Bird, flower, tree

It was not a completely wasted weekend.

bird 1 bird 2

bird 3We went to the Royal Horticultural Society gardens, where there is a hide by a few bird feeders, and I snapped away. I don’t know a tit from a finch, but they are pretty. After I cracked my line that “bird, flower, tree” is usually specific enough for me, C. made remarks like “Isn’t that buddleia pretty”. Um, I think I may have heard the word buddleia. She added to my irritation by taking great pains over inane photos of blooms, when she had sabotaged my requested photo for a facebook profile. I have a new wig, you see. flower 1

Oh fuck. Am I moaning? I’m not boring you am I?

Onywye. We went to Betty’s, originally of Harrogate, for tea. “I couldn’t eat here every day, but it is so lovely to take tea at Betty’s occasionally”, C. simpered. The purpose of conversation to say things with which everyone will agree so as to draw us together rather fails when what you say is Crap! It’s a fucking tea room! I’ve been trailing round with fucking Hinge or bloody Bracket incessantly screeching “My gender dysphoria is in the PAST!!!”

flower 2We went to the Quaker meeting at Pontefract, where C. actually shut up for a moment, I contemplated the beauty of their wooden table and the five children. A girl aged about one made strenuous efforts to stand. She did not take a step, and she swayed quite a bit, and getting her leg under her was a struggle and she needed some support to get up, but watching her make this single-hearted effort to improve her life was beautiful. I chatted to Quakers over coffee, and enjoyed that. I like them. I like the meeting house.

Then we went to the Outlet, and I got a frock for the wedding; and I could leave any shop C happened to be in.

We went to her country dance club on the Friday night, where about 26 dancers bodged our way through the dances. I get less pedantic about these things.

The food and the outings were pleasant enough, but she had no real interest in my concerns, or even my responses to hers. We drove through a village with a police box. As a mad keen Doctor Who fan, I would really really like a photo with that, but she ignored me. She wanted to tell me The Truth for some reason. The conversation was almost entirely tedious and horrible. I imagine her quietly satisfied.

15 thoughts on “Bird, flower, tree

    • I took as little interest as possible in my father’s garden, and have not had one of my own since. I fell in love with an azalea walking to work, then found out last week that it could be other than just red, or red and purple.

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  1. Those are extremely good photos Clare πŸ™‚ Lovely bluebells. We had masses of them in our garden when I was a child. I never grew sick of them. Right now I empathise with the child trying to stand.

    A good read with pretty piccies. I enjoyed it.

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    • πŸ™‚ Thank you. πŸ™‚

      I based my estimate of her age on what she was doing, and find that babies do this rather younger, so I overestimated her age.

      I used to encourage people contemplating transition by saying “You have accomplished great tasks before- you learned to walk and talk!” Until one responded, “My mother told me I was very late walking.”

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  2. I’ve been with people who simply don’t hear. They ask a question, then barge on just as we start to answer. After ten minutes of that, I find myself clenching my fists and getting increasingly upset. So however did you manage a whole weekend. You are actually very patient, you see. Thanks for the lovely photos. XXX πŸ™‚

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    • Magic telepathy does not work.

      It seems to me obvious that going on and on to a bald woman about how wonderful it is to have hair is unkind. Just because C found her hair growing back after she started using patches rather than pills does not prove causation even in her case, leave alone that it is worth my while to try.

      However ridiculous such a belief might be, I think she believed she was being helpful. I should really have explained to her my own perspective, rather than sat in silent, growing resentment. I see little malice in her.

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      • Undoubtedly, it helps to believe she is merely carried away by an excess of zeal and was trying to be helpful. I have been guilty of being too insistent, many times. But in practical terms, a whole weekend of such polite compromising is exhausting. I would love to see a pic of you in your new wig! xx πŸ˜€

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    • Thank you. It is not a kingfisher:

      Kingfisher
      This kingfisher was taken by J.J. Harrison. Here is another, by Tony French.

      Kingfisher_hovering

      My photos are a product of circumstances. There is a hide near some feeders, and my Lumix Panasonic DMC-TZ25 (Leica lens) focused automatically in “intelligent auto” mode, except when it didn’t, focusing on the vegetation and making the bird a blur. So I don’t claim great skill, just right place, right tool.

      Violet might know.

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  3. I do hope C doesn’t read this! Or maybe she wouldn’t recognise herself. People like this seem so unaware of the impact of their actions I wonder if she might not!

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    • Oh, hello- it is you, isn’t it? She would recognise the description of what we did together, though I did not say that she wanted to go to a lecture but got the wrong day, so that we had a wasted journey. She was irked at herself, at that.

      I don’t care whether she reads it or not. It could only do her good (from my point of view, at least).

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