Just had a phone call from a friend, incredulous that I find life difficult. Mind you, she's in the minority, as most people also find it difficult and the other day I watched Oprah on this very topic.
One small example is the way begging charities drive you mad. Over the years I've been having direct debits for various charities taken from my account. This, of course, means they bombard you with colour brochures and magazines that are delivered in plastic sleeves which have to be slit open so you can drop them into the appropriate bins - one for plastic and one for paper. Needless to say I never read the stuff. And if you have ever thought you were giving a one-off donation you are dead wrong - they keep at you and at you. They pester you by phone, email and snailmail, or personal visits to your door.
There's Amnesty International, Salvation Army, Save the Children, Animal Welfare, Bushfires, Cancer, Heart Research, Red Cross, World Vision and so it goes...for years I've been sponsoring a child through World Vision and they regularly bombard you with reminders it's her birthday, or nearly Christmas and would you please pay for a card and a gift and while you're at it, how about buying a goat for the family next door or providing a well for the village? They are all oblivious of the fact that my main charity is a school in Africa but neither would they care if they knew. You'd think I was a member of the Rupert Murdoch family with an endless cash flow!
I wrote to Amnesty International the other day, asking them to stop taking direct debits as I am but a poor old woman, and will eventually get round to the others. You just about need a private secretary to attend to charity-related correspondence alone. That's not to mention the dozens of colour brochures with pie graphs and useless information that accompany every bill you get. (I actually have one friend - a former tax lawyer - who not only reads this stuff but actually enjoys it. I kid you not.)
This morning friend and I set out for the indoor pool as we had done all week. It was about 5 to 8 when we got there and were asked by the receptionist did we know the pool closed to casual swimmers at 8, when children's lessons began. I was secretly very happy, as I always have to force myself into the water in an indoor pool (when you think of all the nasties in the water), so we ended up back at my place, having our coffee in the garden. (Not that I think for one second the water in the ocean baths is any better - worse even, when you consider the fish wee in it) but it is easier to forget in the ocean pool when you get carried away by the beautiful view.
When I took my swimming costume off I dumped it on my bed, much to Muffy's delight. You can see her in the photo trying to put it on!
One small example is the way begging charities drive you mad. Over the years I've been having direct debits for various charities taken from my account. This, of course, means they bombard you with colour brochures and magazines that are delivered in plastic sleeves which have to be slit open so you can drop them into the appropriate bins - one for plastic and one for paper. Needless to say I never read the stuff. And if you have ever thought you were giving a one-off donation you are dead wrong - they keep at you and at you. They pester you by phone, email and snailmail, or personal visits to your door.
There's Amnesty International, Salvation Army, Save the Children, Animal Welfare, Bushfires, Cancer, Heart Research, Red Cross, World Vision and so it goes...for years I've been sponsoring a child through World Vision and they regularly bombard you with reminders it's her birthday, or nearly Christmas and would you please pay for a card and a gift and while you're at it, how about buying a goat for the family next door or providing a well for the village? They are all oblivious of the fact that my main charity is a school in Africa but neither would they care if they knew. You'd think I was a member of the Rupert Murdoch family with an endless cash flow!
I wrote to Amnesty International the other day, asking them to stop taking direct debits as I am but a poor old woman, and will eventually get round to the others. You just about need a private secretary to attend to charity-related correspondence alone. That's not to mention the dozens of colour brochures with pie graphs and useless information that accompany every bill you get. (I actually have one friend - a former tax lawyer - who not only reads this stuff but actually enjoys it. I kid you not.)
This morning friend and I set out for the indoor pool as we had done all week. It was about 5 to 8 when we got there and were asked by the receptionist did we know the pool closed to casual swimmers at 8, when children's lessons began. I was secretly very happy, as I always have to force myself into the water in an indoor pool (when you think of all the nasties in the water), so we ended up back at my place, having our coffee in the garden. (Not that I think for one second the water in the ocean baths is any better - worse even, when you consider the fish wee in it) but it is easier to forget in the ocean pool when you get carried away by the beautiful view.
When I took my swimming costume off I dumped it on my bed, much to Muffy's delight. You can see her in the photo trying to put it on!
