Idling

 

As I opened the window in the west wing my eye fell on the books gathering dust above the bed, which incidentally, also gathers dust.  One book of note comes from Jerome K. Jerome, the great comedy writer of the late 19th and early 20th centuries.  As you know he became famous for his 'Three Men in a Boat' book which touched the hearts of many as they also had been through similar experiences at the time.  He never again found such success.  That book is a 'one off,' a book that sells, and continues to sell today, that had such a success that writers can only dream of emulating.  No other Jerome book reached that height.

He continued to write of course, and in spite of his age, he was 55 in 1914, spent time working for the French Ambulance service during the Great War, the British refused as he was 'too old.'  

One book on the shelf that caught my red eyes was a collection of papers first published in the magazine 'Home Chimes,' as was the way at the time, called 'Idle Thoughts of an Idle Fellow.'

How suitable for me that is I thought, my mind wandering towards the cream I was intending to spice my Costa Rican coffee with this morning.

I intended to reach out and collect the book, 'Idle Thoughts of an Idle Fellow,' but I was too idle to do this, reaching that far early on could be dangerous for one so idle as myself.  So I idled for a moment, then left it and hurried into the kitchen.

Sustained by coffee and porridge filled with raisins I cogitated on being idle. 

I cogitated so long some passing by outside looked up and considered I was just being idle.

How dare they.  I knew how to handle such people, I drew the dust covered curtains and blocked them out.

Being 'idle' is not always a good thing.  Men 'laid off' from factory, docks or mines were often 'idle' but not too keen on it.  Being idle is fine if you have coffee and porridge with raisins, if however, you fail to afford bread it can become somewhat wearisome, as most of us have found out one way or another.  On the other hand, being fed and watered, being able to stand at the window watching men hurtling past early on heading for work in factories, warehouses and Royal Mail while I stand there drinking coffee does bring a smile to my face.  Especially when it is raining and I am inside!  These type of men often wave back I notice...

Later, the women pass by, aiming for shop or office work, always moaning about how hard life is, ignoring the men digging holes in the road meanwhile, and sitting at a desk, possibly all day, while they grumble about their hardships.  These do not wave, they merely put their nose in the air as they pass.

Once 9 am has passed I notice how 'Facebook' gets busy.  I often wonder why.  

I also get busy, I plan my day, make tea, possibly Green Tea with Orange and Lotus Blossom, or work hard watching the housework that I am avoiding, it may be too hot just now, or too cold later, so let it lie I say.  I then fill the time on here, reading the online newspapers, at least the free ones, watching the world continue on its normal progress to destruction, though each day it varies somewhat,  and then instead of idling I decide to take on an adults responsibilities, and ponder what is for lunch.

Now, a real idler would of course have a woman to do this, after all that is what they were made for,  however, the Good Lord took away the only woman I wished to keep, and rightly so, and left me searching the freezer for something I forgot to remove last night.

Corned Beef again I think today.

Being Saturday I would normally spend idle time watching football, however, none is as yet available.  So, instead I, er, what do I do?  

I suppose I will just have to sit here and stare out the window today.

Funnily enough, it comes to mind how so many people cannot idle.  You have met they type, always on the go, cannot sit down, must be 'doing' all the time.  Such people die if they are forced to retire, or engage in wallpapering, gardening, climbing mountains or voluntary work, anything to avoid idling.  What is wrong with such people?

You meet them while working, always keen, always volunteering for jobs, never hiding in a cupboard like others I could mention, and being taken advantage of by managers everywhere.  Some of course become managers, and are a pain to idlers everywhere.

Today, I have indeed been idling.  The idea of work in such warm weather, the temp gauge claims 27% c, although the sun has been hidden behind clouds all day.  I know this as I have been watching it hide for hours.  When it does decide to pop out the leaves on the trees opposite gleam smartly while bobbing up and down gently in what the weather people refer to as a 'gentle breeze.'  It is not usually as 'gentle' as they claim.  

So, as I stand here jingling the keys in my pocket, watching the Saturday world go by, I say, young women did not look like that when I was young, did they all have those bits?  Anyway, watching the traffic makes me jealous of those who car afford a car, I would like a little cheap one to get about, and the maroon coloured Landrover I have asked for these past 20 years has not as yet materialised.

If I was not so idle I may have had one by now I suppose?

This typing is hurting my fingertips, I think idling is set before me for the remainder of the day, and I may as well do that through in the West Wing where comfort is assured.

Idle

I've decided to be idle for a day.  
Not only did I have a busy and emotional Sunday (Yes Willie Collum I mean you!) but I also had a very busy Monday.  Marching here and there, helping in the museum on the day off, marching back here and there, and then doing my Tuesday duty with no help whatsoever (except when I broke the card machine). This has worn out my weak and enfeebled body to the extent that I must lie around like a slob (for a change) doing nothing that would require energy.  Pass that tea cup over would you? 
It makes a change to be idle.  
I am much more used to being occupied with things of note, researching dead soldiers, reading good books, watching football and the like, this sitting and staring into space through the grubby window is not something I am used to.  I have had jobs where idleness was part of the day.  One office I was forced into had a dozen members of staff and work enough for five of us.  Allowing for the fact that many amongst them were not of the highest intellect and the puritan work ethic was not an item they had ever encountered it did mean however I was kept busy.  On occasions it was very quiet so I would pop to the loo down the corridor behind us.  To fill in the time I would head in the opposite direction, slowly, oh so slowly, and wander down the back stairs.  This would lead me through the building for a long detour where I would reach the corridor behind the office then return, slowly, oh so slowly, the way I had come.  No-one ever mentioned this!  Even the eagle eyed boss with a Maggie Thatcher venom did not notice any absence.  Of course once computers were installed the workload, which did not increase in volume, increased to the extent that we were forced to work continually throughout the day taking a full day to complete the work one done in two or three hours.  Several members of staff had breakdowns, one disappeared and the boss's head exploded one morning and she was promoted upstairs.  Being to good at the job I moved to higher things.
Work, not idleness is my thing.  I like work, my desk is piled with work, but I find being idle just looking at it is beginning to wear out my heart, I feel a tension there so excuse me while I push all this paperwork to the side, oops, onto the floor, and relax a wee bit.  I do like work, in fact I have watched some of that work pile up for so long it is now past its sell by date and no longer requires my attention, it's just that I have not been able to round to dealing with it, what with all the other work I am sitting looking at here.  Previous managers often used to mention how I collected work around me and watched it carefully.  Collecting boxes in warehouses was an old trick used by some to avoid work.  These rascals were not idling, it was just that by piling boxes high and leaving a small space in the middle they could play cards without needless interruptions from foremen and the like. 
Idling this morning by looking through the grubby window I note many individuals idling, standing there shivering while the dog runs about enjoying the sights and smells of the park.  The owner, wrapped up against the freezing wind is lit up by the sun shining brightly upon them and by the glass of cognac swallowed before leaving the house.  I am not saying the east wind is that cold but I noticed a man feeding anchovies to a penguin earlier!   It would be interesting to work out how many hours a woman can stand still over the period of a dogs life while she waits on the brutes pleasure?  Standing there hoping not to attract the wrong kind of attention she hovers near a tree in the hope of some shelter, the dog meanwhile attempts to hover near every tree in the park oblivious to her distress and near frostbite. This is a form of idling that I can avoid easily.  However I suppose standing at a stop waiting for a bus to arrive is similar.  There you cannot seek shelter for some rude soul will take your place and there may not be room on the bus for you.  The same goes, albeit slightly differently for millions peering down the track awaiting the 7:43 to their destination. How cold can a train platform be?  Those grossly overpriced mobile phones now distract the freezing queues as they wait, murmuring that they have too little cash into their £500 phone.

It is common in Continental culture (do the continentals have culture I ask?) to sit by the roadside inhaling petrol fumes while drinking coffee watching the world go by.   This is not really something 
I would find easy, to boring, and too nosy really watching people.  However watching attractive young women ignore me is something I have become used to, ever since I was about say, oh eleven. Sitting drinking overpriced coffee with stupid names while being rejected is not my idea of fun but it is a form of idleness much loved by many.  How many of the people passing by are being idle anyway?  Are they unemployed, could they be skivving?  Is this parade of beauties just lassies parading as they have nothing else to but be seen?  I wonder, so many people walk the streets during the day you are left asking where they all come from and why do they not work like the rest of us had to do for many years?  

Anyway, I am worn out doing this.  I feel the need to eat and refresh my tired mind and my etiolated frame.  After which the need for sleep must be paramount as I only got about seven and a half hours last night, surely I need more?   I wonder if somebody might feed me to save me the trouble...