GAD

Can’t be Easy

Bertie: “It can’t be easy being you, Bobby. It’s hard enough just being your friend. A day of wonderful joy became a following day of huge muddle in your bonce.”

I Have a Dream

Bobby: “I have a dream.” Bertie: “Do you keep it in a jar?”

Who Bleedin Cares Anyway?

Bertie: “Are you suffering, Bobby?” Bobby: “Not ‘suffering’, but wary in these troubled times.”

GAD Revisited

Bertie: “Bobby? Are you feeling OK, mate? You seem in a bit of a muddle.” Bobby: “I think a lot of people are, Bertie, in these troubled times. Especially older people, who feel isolated while the world talks about all the things they want to reopen while we old grunters are just interested in staying…

A Letter to Myself

A Letter to Myself These words are from Bobby. To himself. I was a helpless observer.

I Feel Quite DiscomBOBulated!

DiscomBOBulated. Bertie: “I feel quite discomBOBulated. It’s very nice down here in Whitchurch. Just above Solva, near St David’s in West Wales. Rosemary is lovely. It’s very quiet. Peaceful. But I miss being part of everything that is happening in Laurel Cottage. Bobby will ‘rescue’ me when he is allowed to go on a long…

Memories on the Bedside Table.

The Bedside Table. Mindfully Bertie started as a kind of bereavement therapy for Bobby. As you know, I had been best man at their wedding and chief mourner at Diddley’s Funeral. It’s now over three years since the blog started and we have covered every subject imaginable. Never forgetting that each week we would end…

Belonging: 150 Stories from Mindfully Bertie.

150 stories from Mindfully Bertie! Yes dear, loyal friends, this is our 150th story. (Bobby prefers “story” to “blog”). Who could have thought that when we wrote the first one that we called a “preview”, we would still be going strong at 150? I should read that preview now… and see if we have kept…

Flirting with GAD.

Flirting with GAD. Bertie: “Bobby! Why are we sitting on this bench? It’s taters and freezing me bleedin’ nuts off!” Bobby: “Errr…where did you get that expression from Bertie?” Bertie: “You!” Bobby: “Ohh… Well, since you asked, I am flirting with GAD” (Generalised Anxiety Disorder)

Apricot Village.

Apricot Village. Me? I rely on “flashes of inspiration.” Often precipitated by Bobby’s fond memories of years ago. A classic tendency for “Peter Pan’s” (old men in Sarf London) who can remember the bus ticket on the 93 to Putney Bridge in 1959 but not why they just came upstairs.