Chapter 5 (All quiet on the Western Front)

I have come to realise over the past few days that reducing my verbal output has unexpected advantages.
With the requirement to limit my speech I have developed a useful tendency to speak only when I have something to say, something, that is, that matters to me.
This limitation has undoubtedly had some advantages for the people around me as well, giving them space to speak without interruption, and perhaps more importantly, I am LISTENING..... finally listening to what they have to say.
With this more selfless approach to communication, I have come to understand......(he paused briefly, brushing his blonde fringe from his brow and gazing wistfully out of the cottage window, across the neatly clipped lawn, he leanined back in his leather wingback armchair and making a mental note to speak to Joe about weeds visible in the border) THAT IT'S LARGELY SHITE!

(Only joshing Mrs Viv).

It is liberating in a strange way and I am hopeful I can remember this when (and if) I manage to throw of my speech impediment.

I have always admired people that talk sparingly, it seems to convey some kind of deeper personality or intelligence.
I once knew a man who could hold a group of people in his grip with just such a ploy.
When, during a meeting, he was asked a direct question, he would suck on his pencil and as silence descended.......and became almost unbearable, he would begin his answer.
At this point, confident that everyone was sold on his Gandalfian status and sage like wisdom, he knew anything he said would be considered deep, well considered and that his audience would consider themselves privileged to be receiving his thoughts..
Like some real life wizard of Oz I finally glimpsed the truth, the day I saw behind the curtain was the day that I realised that the copius notes and drawings, he appeared to take whilst avoiding the mundane issues of the meeting were in fact childlike doodles, he was a fraud but he worked his audiences endlessly with the same trick.
I hope to rise Zen like above this chicanery and actually spend more time listening and not just hearing my family and friends.
I'm sure if I get through this I shall re-instate my machine gun speech delivery, appearing to listen whilst actually thinking about what I'm about to say next. It would be funnier if wasn't at least half true.

On a lighter note I have spent today flopping about with lovely Zeynep and edible Yasmin, we had a lovely roast lamb lunch which pushed my weakened chew and swallow muscles to the limit but well worth it!
We washed it down with a bottle of 2010 Bourgogne Pinot Noir, a mellow Burgundy with cheeky notes of fresh berries and mellow spices (we are from Wokingham you see)..

My neck is aching gain today, I am really hoping that this isn't an early indication that my neck muscles are next! I also struggled to get a screw top off of a jar of gherkins yesterday, finally resorting to stabbing the lid to pop the vacuum. These are always difficult but I am bound to wonder whether my grip is weakening....on reality maybe but that was always a tenuous grip at best.

Doctor Armstrong tomorrow, poor Doctor Armstrong could never live up to the expectations I have placed on him and this consultation. I am excited in the way that a small child is on Christmas eve.

Go on mush fix it please....  FIX IT.... FIX IT..... NOW (please).