Insurmountable Molehill/Making the World a Better Place

I suppose it's partly because I feel ill at the moment, but things do seem really difficult. This morning I looked at a small pile of ancient stuff by my bed, pointed at it decisively and said, "That." In that moment I was quite convinced that I had set myself a realistic target for the day, i.e. finding proper homes for or otherwise disposing of the components of that small molehill - dealing with it. I took it apart and found out what was there. I washed a few things, took their picture, put the molehill back together (minus the washed things) and took its picture, sent both pictures from the mobile to the computer and they have not arrived! Stuff it! Foiled again! One element is a wooden box. I used to have 2 pebbles in it from my dad's grave with a little label saying, "Stones from Dad's grave". I was encouraged to release these stones into my garden by a well-meaning but possibly misguided anti-stuff agent. Now there are some counters and screws and paperclips, bits of violin, a marble, a fuse, a little bell.... in there. I'm not sure that's any better. I sat down and had a cry.

One last check - no, they still haven't arrived - and I shall have to go and do my other errand of the day, visiting Barbara M in hospital. Last night I went over to her flat and rang all the bells. I found out that she had been taken to hospital about 2 weeks ago. This morning the neighbour who knows her best rang me (I'd left her a note) and told me her friend's number. The friend then told me which hospital she was in and I said I'd go today, so I better had......

(Next day...) It took 3 buses to get there and 3 back. I love the way the Oyster card says '0.00 taken off' (or whatever it says) when you've paid for a bus pass. By the time I got there it was 10 minutes past the end of evening visiting, but they let me in anyway and we had a good little talk. On the last bus on the way there (a 316) I was sitting next to a frighteningly rattly window. It was one of those little buses and I was sitting on the left-hand side just behind the central doors. I pressed on the window to stop it making such an alarming noise and the man behind me did the same. After a while I took out the wrapper of some chocolate I'd almost finished eating, tore some paper off it, folded it into a little wedge and pushed it into the crack at the top of the window. The man behind me indicated that another piece near his bit of the window would make it even better, so I folded up another bit and pushed it up further back. The bits of paper more-or-less divided the top of the window in 3 and the window stopped rattling. We smiled broadly at each other and I said wouldn't it be great if we could mend the whole city so easily with little bits of torn-up paper. I wasn't sure he'd understood, so I tried again, with gestures. "Yes!" He said gruffly. "I understand!"

The picture above is the molehill. The next one is of a keyring I'd forgotten I'd removed from the pile. I put some keys on it this morning that had been held together by a rubber band.

When I left Barbara (last night) after nearly an hour, I rang my friend Jack on his mobile. The bus came while we were still talking and I'm afraid I went on talking to him once I was on the bus. I sat on the left again but this time just in front of the central doors. While I was still on the phone with Jack, I turned round and looked at the window behind the doors and there were my 2 little bits of chocolate wrapper! I said to Jack, "It's the same bus!" and he started to say something like well of course it would be.... so I had to tell him about stopping the window rattling and get across to him (way up in Hebden Bridge) that it was the selfsame actual bus itself.....

I sat pondering the ineffability of being in the right place at the right time and savouring the feeling of being completely satisfied. A vivid internal image of Barbara's beautiful face kept me company and her pleasure at my having sought her out.

On the way home I had a text message from Ji who was coming to stay the night, so I met her and was then busy with all of that.

The molehill still looks exactly the same as it did when I went out yesterday. The things I found in it and washed are pictured here. They are tiny plastic magi with a cow and a donkey, part of a Christmas crib set, and a wooden wheelbarrow whose wheel turns. These objects always used to be on our Christmas cake when I was a child. They were a little bit caked with ancient icing, but seem to have recovered well. I was worried about the wheelbarrow, but I hadn't realised it's not held together with glue, but beautifully carpentered, with a cleverness for which I have no name.