In the past week, I have seriously become concerned about the state of the nation’s mental health. I’m referring to the UK, of course, not Spain. There has been nothing short of hysteria in the media, following a clumsily edited Mother’s Day shot of the Princess of Wales and her brood. Seemingly, Kate or William or someone at Kensington Palace, issued the snap in the hope of assuring the public about the state of the Princess of Wales’s health. Well, that truly backfired. Instead, the image has been mercilessly picked over by journalists, and ghouls and trolls on Twitter, who claim that something far more sinister is happening in the firm. How this nonsense has been arrived at is anybody’s guess but it’s quite obvious that people have nothing better to do with their time than speculate inanely on the matter.
You’d think with all that is happening in the world, a small mistake made in editing an image would be at the bottom of the worry list for most people but apparently not. One UK broadsheet journalist was so insanely convulsive and conspiratorial on the issue that I considered calling the emergency services and the men in white coats. Thankfully, sane readers had had similar thoughts which I read in the comments section. Let’s hope the whole pathetic matter will now blow over. Let’s leave poor Kate to get well in peace. Surely, it’s the least the UK’s more paranoid citizens can do.
Gen Zzzzzz
This week, we learnt that three million UK citizens under the age of 25, ie Gen-Z-ers, were not working, mostly through choice. They felt getting free dole money was much more edifying and meant they could just sleep, drink, and smoke all day. I see their point. I mean, my taxes become excruciating when I work harder and earn more to the extent that I begin to think in the same way as French tradesmen which is to take the foot of the pedal, earn less and get taxed less. French tradesmen are canny beasts. They mostly work the hours that keep them under a higher tax threshold and the rest of the time they can float around enjoying the good life, presumably on a bike with a string of garlic around their necks.
Anyway, the number of those on the dole in the UK has spiked since Covid-19, many citing mental health issues. Well, one broadsheet candidate certainly gets my vote for being incarcerated as quickly as possible. Her aside, hasn’t everyone got some kind of mental health issue? I mean, how does one define it and how bad does it have to be before you can claim dole money? I was a Samaritan in the UK, so I know what serious mental health issues look like. Ugly, let me tell you. Those are the people who deserve our help, not fakers and takers.
Running to catch up
After a lazy lull in exercise the last few weeks, following the Seville marathon, I’m back in harness, running and attending pilates classes again. It took some time to convince my body that this was a good idea but finally, sulkily it gave in. The extra hours without exercise gave me more time at the desk which has been sorely needed but running gives me more energy and lightens my mood, so it has to be done. I’ve had a marathon work period since the beginning of January and it’s not getting any quieter. I shouldn’t complain, and I don’t really. It’s just that now and then I would love a whole day off but that is coming at the end of May. I shall hold that thought.
On the subject of running, a local woman approached me on the beach this week and suggested that I should be careful because running could play havoc with knees and was generally bad for you. I asked her whether she had ever run, already knowing the answer.
Oh no, she assured me, that would never happen. All the same, she was happy to advise me on a topic that she knew absolutely nothing about. Frankly, the only advice I take on the subject is from my splendid dry-humoured physio, Jos Alkemade in Santa Maria, or fellow runners.
I winced as she struggled off down the beach, bowed down by extra weight and arthritis. Many years ago, a couple of alcoholic expats used to habitually stop me on my mountain runs to tell me about the perils of running. They revelled in peering from their car windows to issue some doom-laden prophecy about how my knees would be shot through by the age of fifty. Both of them died before their time, one of cancer, the other from heart disease. I was sad to learn of their demise, but it proved a point. We never know what lies ahead and all we can do is to keep on trucking and doing what we think is right for us, not for anyone else.
Of course, poor old Jim Fixx, the American bestselling author of The Complete Guide to Running, published in 1977, came unstuck. At 52 he was out jogging, had a heart attack and died. I’m well past that particular milestone but anything can happen. Still, I’ll keep a positive attitude and if running is the way I’m to pop my clogs, so be it.
Cat heroines in Soller
We have a dedicated cat angel in the Soller valley. Her name is Antonia Vives, and she runs the local Soller cat association. Many of us are volunteers who help with feeding local cat colonies and fundraising and I do my small bit along with many others. It was therefore fantastic that she and her deputy were awarded beautiful cat statuettes at a cat focused gathering of volunteers at Soller townhall last week. There are many unsung heroes and heroines in all our communities. Antonia is one of them but this time, a little recognition went a long way.