On the phone...

Every day I see people almost maniacal preoccupied with their mobile phone; watching the screen as they constantly press keys, buttons or shuffle on the screen.  

I do understand that a mobile phone is not just a phone… People tend to store their entire life on their phone: contacts with info like numbers, picture, address, date of birth, calendars with appointments and special occasions (even Christmas, Valentine’s Day, National Day and other rather obvious can’t-miss-out-on-noticing-they-are-coming-up days), pin codes and passwords. Not to mention down or uploaded music, games (I recommend wordfeud!), internet with social medias like facebook, twitter and msn (I am sure there are more, but those three should represent the nature of them all.)

There is something ridiculous about people shopping for groceries while talking to themselves, and not very discreetly either, mind you. They jabber about people, names and their private issues, paying no attention to fellow customers or shop assistants.

Walking about in their own private sphere, people do not realize people hear what they say in their end. I do not really consider it eavesdropping when they talk that loudly, either.

It is quite a while since I had a meal in a restaurant without hearing someone’s phone ringing. I miss that. I miss having a conversation and a meal without being abrupted, in the middle of a sentence, with the words: “Hang on, I just have to take this call”. And I end up sitting there, in my own awkward limbo, listening to my company being overly friendly to a friend or a coworker who just called to say hi, as I sit there feeling more and more neglected, left out and less important than the random person on the phone.

Sometimes I feel people talking on the phone or sending a text message are getting more attention and are taken more seriously, than the one there, in person. Maybe we think people would feel turned down if we do not instantly reply to the approach a call or a text message actually is, but to be honest: To talk to someone on the phone and then hear the toilet flush really is no compliment to me.

I am old enough to remember when people did not expect me to be accessible at all times.

Maybe that is the reason why I put my mobile phone away and leave it in the car or keep it out of reach and audibility in various ways. For some reason some find it appropriate to ask me why I did not answer their call at the time they called… I could be tending to private business, you know.

I am not as brave as a friend of mine, though, who has the following message on her phone service: “Hi, either I am not available right now, or I just do not want to talk right now. Leave a message and I might get back to you”.

Domestic sabotage

My house is a constant reminder of life happening. I am talking about the kids’ ongoing running in and out, slamming of doors, heaps of shoes and jackets right inside the entrance door, schoolbags being dropped on the floor at the strangest places, the permanent heap of used towels and dirty clothes which never end up in the laundry basket. In short the activity level is high, noisy and visible in various ways.

I spend a lot of time picking up socks, always looking for the other one to make up a pair. The dog helps out by carrying shoes from the hallway and hides it under tables and other furniture. Sometimes he is lucky and finds my keys. I never find them at first attempt myself, so it is a good thing he can put them somewhere “obvious”.

Things scattered around is not really a big problem, because it is not a mess: it does not result in a sticky pool of something wet left to soak up by itself… hopefully before I find it and get a fit of frustration. (I realize my fits do not help any, as the kids try to avoid them by hiding the mess, rather than clean it up themselves or at least tell me so I can clean it up before it sets. My fits really end up having no effect other than serving as a classic example of what we could call frustrating recoil.)

Anyway, this weekend the sun was shining, so I let the clutter, my frustration over the state of my house and laundry be, and went outside.

I have this hallucination that if at least the garden looks fine, people will not notice the state of my house inside too much because they will be dazzled by the perfect idyll outside.

Last fall I invested in an abundance of flower bulbs and seed in the hope that they would survive the harsh winter… which never really came. And by now the tulips, the hyasinths and the crocus stood there proudly, ready to bloom. Ever so lovely, and I could picture the flowering season starting off like an overwhelming fireworks.

Anyway, I did some weeding, checked on my olive tree, my apricot/plum trees (yes, two kinds on one tree), my fritillaries, roses and clematis. I cut whatever was weathered or broken and refilled the flowerbeds with fresh soil.

At the end of the afternoon my garden looked really trimmed and cared for… my boys played football and I sat on the outdoor steps with a jug of hot coffee, enjoying the last beams of sun and feeling really pleased with myself.

The phone rang, I went inside to pick it up and I answered as I went back outside, still talking on the phone. Wireless phones are really great that way…

I still feel sorry for the person at the receiving end: when I came back outside my dog had, during those couple of minutes, dug a few perfect holes in my flowerbeds. Flowerbulbs scattered around the edge and the numerous perfect, lovely looking sprouts lay around in the dirt…

No, the dog is not dead... it is resting. He worked hard for a short while, you see....