The Colonel,s Lady and Judy O'Grady are sisters under the skin.
I seem to recall that, although this is the end of Kipling poem, it appeared in a music hall song but with the name Molly.
I could be completely wrong here, memory plays tricks upon us all, cue Maurice Chevalier and Hermione Gingold singing I remember it well in Gigi.
It seems that so very many of us are home bodies, completely happy in our close circle of family and a few real friends.
I have always said that people who retire and move hundreds of miles from home were foolish as their "support network" was gone.
Then, of course, I did just that. Moving from the edge of the East Coast to very close to the edge of the West Coast. In my defence I did it partly to be nearer to James and his family, at that time he did need quite a bit of support, and partly to shake off the sorrow of 2004.
Luckily it all worked out well. I have a close group of friends and neighbours and we interact almost daily.
I have all of you, and many more that I read on an as and when basis.
It is only since my fall and subsequent dental issues that I have started to become reclusive. The heart issues had their effect as well so I suppose that I could attribute it to the Domino Effect.
The heart thing meant that my socialising in real life was severely curtailed, driving was out for a while, and walking was short and slow.
I started to get out and about and then the accident meant that I was back and forth for treatment, all of it very painful. in the midst of that the dental surgeon stabbed his finger while it was in my mouth.
Blood tests, almost an armful (Tony Hancock was brilliant) and the ensuing worry while I waited for results knocked me back.
I was assured that I was a very low risk. Boy oh boy, I wasn't worried about my blood, it was the thought of what may be in his that made my skin creep.
I think that was the kicker, nothing to do with the gaps in my toothline, (well buildings have skylines) I am not vain, just scared stiff of the dentist and his implements of torture.
Do you know, I think that is the only thing that I am scared of!
In my days as a Publican I was "on display" every day, before that I did a quite a bit of Barmaid work, and loved every moment of it. My kitchen door had a large glass panel so that my customers could see me and me them.
My work in the Deli Factory was again face to face with loads of people, many regular but many agency workers who changed like the wind.
Again, I loved it. The constant ebb and flow of faces made the job so much easier to enjoy. I retired almost reluctantly, it was only my desire to increase my crafting time that made it happen.
Now I sometimes wonder if I almost "burnt out" on the social side. Looking back over the years I realise that we were a very social family. My childhood home was always bursting at the seams with extended family and we were encouraged to have friends around.
I took that with me when I had my own home and my son was even more outgoing. At weekends there was almost a revolving door, more coming in than going out though, and there was no such thing as a quiet night in.
When we decided to have a Barbecue, the entire street would turn up. All bearing food and drink and there was an ad hoc rota for cooking. It was so busy that the local pub closed and the landlord and his wife would come, as they said, all their customers were at our house so they may as well join in.
I think that I have partied, talked, laughed, and met enough new people for a handful of lifetimes. For several years my Christmas card list was well over 300 and I was posting birthday cards almost every day.
Sunday lunch would mean 20-30 people to feed, then there would be many weeks when we were eating somewhere else. Now I am happy to cook for just us, with a meal for W every few days.
I must have had a personal energy Well somewhere, I was never tired and was always busy. all this alongside working quite long hours.
Of course, with so many of us feeling alike, it may just be a reaction to the hustle and bustle of modern living. I see people rushing hither and tither and smile and think, that was me until I moved here. That warm glow of smug satisfaction is long lasting and very real, almost a hot water bottle for the soul.
Strike that, it is a very real Hot Water Bottle for my soul.
I may have left a busy life behind along with friends and family. I came out the winner though.
In exchange I have a slow paced life, full of time to look around me at this glorious country. Time to stop and smell the roses, as well as growing them.
Then there is the creme de la creme, lots and lots of crafting time.
On that positive note I am off to get the kettle on, even that has slowed as I threw the ultra fast electric one and have an old fashioned whistling one for the gas hob. That is a real blast from the past, although ours was huge and sat on a range top not a gas hob.
Enjoy the rest of your weekend, where ever you may be. Keep warm or cool as needed and be happy in your own skin.
My skin fits me like a glove, hand knitted of course.