EXASPERATION : small mumblings.

My happy relationship with the modern world has so far been dependent on how much I can understand and accept all sorts of the clever and sometimes mysterious things that are impinging on my life. I have not been too bothered and, like many of you I suspect, I have learned to do what the youngsters tell me to do without really understanding much. However, I had not been prepared for what I can only describe as the cheek of what I had naively and stupidly identified as an anthropomorphic ‘something or other’ which I had assumed existed to help and correct but NOT to dictate.

 Imagine my chagrin, then, when after a short break to admire the garden, I returned to the laptop to find that ‘someone’ had been adding material to the mumble I was enjoying birthing without even the most basic of explanations being proffered to me. It was, I imagine, like finding that you had a stowaway within your boat and deep waters without. In truth some of what had been gifted to me by the uninvited ‘deus ex machina’ would have been very acceptable in different circumstances and that realisation made me even more confused and cross and a bit nervous!  

Help was at hand from family of course who explained that there was nothing to be done about the situation except to delete the invaders and hope for the best. It seems that there are one or two of these exasperating interruptions in anything to do with using the computer and no way to avoid them and if that is true then I shall have to put up with them because it is what it is. Enough said, I think.

However, on another entirely different tack my personal suspicions about robots are having a field day now and this is a true tale which you might find enlightening or at least amusing or maybe worrying.  

 I have a friend who is in possession of two very small robots, Robby, who is used to clean the small garden pool and Ricky whose job is to keep the garden grass in order. Watching them make their way around the garden has been entertaining particularly when they must adjust themselves to overcome an obstacle, perhaps a stone or a tuft of weed, or navigate a fall or rise from one level to the next when they really do seem “clever” for a moment.

 However, it seems that the pair of robots have begun to try to take over their world and are now attempting to develop unilateral independence! Yesterday, Loraine was tripped up by Ricky attempting to cut short her walking by grabbing the heel of her gold and sparkling Crocs and chewing them. Loraine panicked and to protect her toes let alone her Crocs she tried to escape and fell to the ground, twisting her ankle and ending up in A and E with a swollen foot and slightly bruised toes.

We then learned that Ricky, had already, been busy attacking and effectually destroying the long stick and handmade hook apparatus used to get Robby in and out of the pool thereby causing Robby to lie abandoned and helpless beneath the water, waiting to be rescued. I imagine you will be pleased to hear that eventually, a small child ventured into the pool and scooped up the waterlogged victim replacing it into   the safety of the grass.

 In truth, Ricky appears to be somewhat the superior in intelligence of the two by first having found a way to escape the limitations of the grass and then by coming across the local plants and discovering how delicious they can taste?  Ricki has in fact continued the journey whilst enjoying a feast!

Footnote from Mumbler:    In case you are wondering whether I have at last entirely embraced the world of the imagination I did notice that the little robot story was taking me over and I do know that I cannot and must not try to interpret ‘feelings or motives or thoughts ‘enjoyed by robots. But who does not dream sometimes? I have always thought that the inanimate might be listening and which of you has not accused the car of deliberately flattening its tyres and even a King once got very cross with a pen that leaked its ink. On the other hand, perhaps like me you talk to your car and thank it for being well behaved or are ridiculously possessive of something such as a book or favourite umbrella?

Back to EXASPERATION:  We are old, we are Henry Crun and Minnie Bannister and we HATE being addressed as young man and young lady by the insensitive or perhaps insecure whose words are possibly meant kindly when in fact, they can cause irritation.

But the prize for exasperation goes to those who take every opportunity to announce their precious and important presence by sounding their car horns whenever they can, whatever the circumstances.

They deserve a smack!