Hello Muddah, Hello Faddah
As I write this narrative, thick clouds and light drizzle ensure I’m greeted with a dank and murky view looking out of the bay window onto le jardin de la maison de Strachan.
Subsequently, an atramentous ambience prevails in the room in which I write, necessitating the rare daytime requirement of a lamp illuminating.
I feel like late US comedian Alan Sherman in his 1960’s song penning a letter to his muddah and faddah. The theme of his displeasure being stuck indoors at Summer Camp due to inclement weather
It was a light hearted communication to his parents, begging them to come take their son home to spare him from more precipitation induced boredom.
When I say I feel like Sherman did in the song I’m not meaning I want my parents take me to their home. However, I can currently relate to the listlessness and dissatisfaction of being incarcerated indoors due of the weather.
Unlike the young lad Sherman portrays, I’m not at Camp Granada mixing with people with malaria, having worries at being eaten by a bear or concerned because the lake has alligators. That being said I am being delayed from visiting Garforth’s new garden centre, which is inconvenient.
I’m on day 7 of my attempt to go through October without an alcoholic drink. I’m not undertaking this as part of MacMillan Cancer Support’s ‘Go Sober for October’ fundraising event. My driver behind my abstinence being purely that I fancied a month of detoxing.
My decision not to ask for sponsorship being I’m conscious that constantly requesting charitable donations online can become wearing. So currently I’m raising money for this worthy cause by collection bucket in stores or high streets.
With regards to the alcohol free month, I find abstaining from alcohol for a decent period of time beneficial in many ways. Not only is there the cost savings of not partaking in a glass of beer or wine for 31 days, but your general feeling of wellbeing improves significantly.
In fact when I abstained for 9 weeks at the start of 2016, I felt so much better that I nearly smiled on one occasion during week 8. Everyone seemed happy at my new found sobriety, apart from my local store.
That period of two months hit their beer and wine so badly sombre music was played in the beer aisle until my abstention ended. Not to mention glass recycling fell by 10%.
I like to test my self-discipline now and again by staying sober for a month. It can be testing mentally, especially when you’re fond of a beer or wine and had a rubbish day. However, it’s not as difficult as it would be fighting the many alcohol related illnesses, such as cancer and liver disease.
Inspiration avoids me currently. I knew I shouldn’t have challenged it to a game of ‘Hide & Seek!
Sat beside my laptop, a mug of cold tea stares back at as if to say “Look are you gonna drink me or not, Gaz?” I ignore it and take a sip from my water glass out of spite. I’m sorry, but I’m not having hot beverages dictating to me where and when I should drink them.
I’ll drink it when I’m ready, thank you very much. Not when badgered by a cup of rapidly cooling char.
The soft yellow light from the recently lit standing lamp in the corner (5ft tall in its stocking feet) gives a warm comforting glow. Woodland animals from far and wide stop cleaning the isolated cottages of Disney princesses to visit and bask in its radiance.
Undeterred by the inclement weather conditions, deer, chipmunks, chaffinches, rabbits and gorillas stand gawping through my rear bay window, fascinated by this glow. All apart from a grey and white marked rabbit who knocks on the window to alert me to the fact my cup of tea was going cold.
That of course is fictional. The thought of the rabbit talking to me is a ridiculous notion….. It was a chipmunk!
Wait a minute! It’s stopped hailing, ducks are swimming, kids out wailing. Playing football, gee that’s better! Muddah, Faddah kindly disregard this letter!