Spray painted for going out with the other side?

 

My Father had a scratch on his car and I figured I was the one to fix it. Having confidence but zero experience I sanded the surface smooth, used filler and then sanded again until it felt scratch-free once more. Satisfied that it was now time to apply the undercoat of paint I sensed I was on the last leg of this task and felt things were going really well. I retrieved the spray tin of paint that matched the metallic green of the car. My father had bought it some time ago to cover up the odd bang from shopping trolleys. It was an old tin and the nozzle had broken on the top. 

I quickly found another one from a different spray can and after removing the broken bit pushed the working one into place. Unfortunately, the can immediately sprayed across my face in a horizontal green stripe. It was like someone had painted a green bandana across my eyes from one side to the other.  The pain was extraordinary as the metallic paint got into my eyes.  Until that moment I was blissfully unaware that metallic paint is called this because it has roughly 1-part powdered metal to 50 parts paint.  I staggered into the house and frightened the life of my parents who could instantly see they had a problem on their hands.  My father ushered me quickly into the car I had just been working on and rushed me to the nearest hospital to Dungiven, which is Altnagelvin Hospital in Derry about 20 miles away.

We ended up in the busy A and E department which was packed with people all seeking help from medical personnel.  I couldn’t see them, as my eyes were tightly shut, but I could hear their voices and the busyness of the environment.  My father began explaining to those around us what had happened.  He took great pains to explain I had been working on his car when this accident had happened and added unnecessary details like the metallic green colour of his car and the spray tin.  Being in a lot of pain I was bewildered that over time as people left to be triaged and new occupants arrived in the A and E my father continued to retell the same story to this new captive audience.  Feeling embarrassed at what happened I began to resent the retelling of the disastrous paint job to so many strangers.  

Then the penny suddenly dropped.  At that time of the Troubles, as we called it, girls who went out with those of the opposite persuasion (ie Catholic or Protestant) were routinely tied up against lampposts or gates and covered in paint (green or orange) to shame them. My father was retelling the car fixing story as the majority of people in the A and E would automatically think I had been having a dalliance with someone across the cultural divide and had been punished accordingly.  

The green paint indicated to all that I was a protestant who had gone out with a catholic and had been punished for my sins.  This realisation changed things considerably for me.  Being eighteen and never having had a boyfriend of any persuasion I began to feel, despite the pain in my eyes, that I had accomplished a new status.  These people suspected that I had been having an affair and despite it not being true I felt their suspicions were a sign of confidence that I could be someone who could have hung out with some guy!  

On some strange level, I felt my station was higher than it had been earlier that morning before all this had happened.  I perversely wished I had dressed better for this outing and perhaps at least brushed my hair to suit the role they suspected.  The doctor in A and E carefully removed the green metallic pieces from my eyes using a long-handled cotton bud and it was amazing how many he had to take out.  He wasn’t concerned with the paint across my face, as he said it would wear off eventually.  So, I left the busy hospital with my eyes pain-free and a green strip across my face feeling like a new quite desirable woman.  It's an ill wind that blows nobody any good!

Started with skirting boards and ended with shoes

 It started many months ago. All I wanted was a bit of paint to touch up the skirting boards in the house, a simple task. However, one tin of white paint seemed to cost a fortune in the local hardware shop. Hesitating at the astronomical cost, I spotted a tiny tube of tester paint. This particular tester had a kind of sponge dispenser on the top. It meant you could squeeze the paint out onto the skirting boards directly without the need for paintbrushes and had possibly just enough paint to do all the skirting boards removing all the unsightly stains. 

As with all such hardware purchases, the leftover tube ended underneath the kitchen sink. After six months I purchased a pair of shoes for my mum. She needs to have wedge heels, with shoelaces and light colours, they also need to be soft and comfortable. The shoes when they arrived were a kind of dirty beige colour. This was disappointing but even more upsetting was the fact that they were far too small for my mum despite being her size! These shoes ended up in the back of the cupboard in the bedroom, one of my least successful purchases. Roll on yet another six months and I purchased on the Internet a shoe stretcher.  I never knew such things existed. This one had rave reviews and when it arrived met all my expectations.  

Feet change shape over the years and this stretcher could account for bunions, corns etc.  You just screw it tightly and leave the shoe overnight and by the next day, the shoe fits like a glove.  I spent a happy few weeks altering every shoe I could lay my hands on in the house.  It looks like a torture device but actually removes pain instead of inflicting it.  I was delighted with this purchase and wondered why I never knew such things existed!  

Of course, the yucky beige shoes were stretched and thankfully fit my mum for quite a while.  But she never got used to the yucky colour and for some reason when they got wet, they looked as if they were suede covered in greasy oil stains.  She stopped wearing them and I stretched them some more until they fit me.  They were light and comfortable but looked horrid. I wore them anyway after all waste not, want not.  Finally, this week I decided to change their colour once and for all.  I was determined not to spend any more money on these stupid cheap shoes.  Thankfully, I remembered the skirting board paint tester and used it on the shoes.  Don’t judge me!  I guess using house paint on shoes is not a good idea but I have reached that age where frankly, am I bothered?  The paint is beginning to crack a little but I am pretty pleased with the whole affair.  

There is joy in reaching an age when

1. There is no one to stop you from crazy ideas

2. You get to mess up and move on

3. Success is in the moment not some time in the future

4. You don’t give up on your mistakes you just reverse up and drive over them again

Table your mistakes, learn from them, then move on.

Confucius

A salve to their hurts

It was a drawing class and you were excited by your first nude.  The art college had arranged for a sitter and the entire class of art students were ready for this new challenge.  I remember being amused by your description of the reality of that first session.  Into the art room walked a large rumpled middle-aged woman whose flesh folded in creases, varicose veins in abundance, cellulite tricky to catch on paper, puckered like her upper lip.  What a shock you all had from the much-expected smooth pink stained cheek with velvet youthfulness on display.  A real lesson in drawing and in life that day, two hours of detailed depressing preview on aging for those just beginning their youth.

I have happy memories of you sitting on the carpet, leaning against your Dad’s knee as laughter ran out in the home in St Austell.  Family should be like this, I thought all the faces filled with smiles and huge gales of laughter.  More tales shared, music ever present and food, abundant tasty food.  Your Mum weaving everyone together with her smile, letters, visits and love.  Do you remember how she screamed in delight when a son or daughter appeared on the path outside the house.  Arms held wide open as if to greet and thank the universe at this magical spectacle. 

You moved to London and had two jobs.  Even this did not dampen your enthusiasm or serve to exhaust you.  Youthful energy drove you on and when you moved to Northern Ireland with a bunch of friends we delighted in your company.  Having you close by was a treat we took for granted.  Your generosity was constant and how many lovely meals did we have from your hand.  You bought my sons, toddlers, tiny cute judo outfits and they delighted in wrestling you to the ground.  Your home a designer’s dream of grey and chrome and the air full of fresh ideas, business ventures, painting and friends. 

Then your own kids arrived in abundance four bundles of love who gravitated to your side and I remember you lying on the floor covered in small toddlers and babies clinging joyously.  Jostling for the best position.  I watch as you have continued to draw people to you, kindness is such a rare commodity in this world.  So not surprising to find you, even now, years later with a large extended family of friends, neighbours and associates. Your home is fortunately large enough to accommodate all these people. 

I sense the load has grown as of late and the glow of kindness is still there but a price has been paid.  Is it ever so that gentle kindly souls are burdened beyond endurance?  I reckon all of us, on rare good days can cloak ourselves in the array of kindliness and goodwill.  Smiling benevolently at this world, wishing all in it well.  However, certain rare individuals seem to have kindness imprinted to their core, like a stick of rock.  Even when worn down, weary to the core they continue to impart love and service to those around them.  It is such a privilege to know such souls and they remind me of that high standard we should all aspire to.

“Should other peoples and nations be unfaithful to you, show fidelity unto them; should they be unjust towards you, show justice towards them; should they hold aloof from you, attract them to yourselves; should they disclose enmity, be friendly to them; should they poison your lives, sweeten their souls; should they inflict a wound upon you, be a salve to their hurts.”                                     

Baha'i Writings