Family Wisdom

I’m currently studying a course that requires students to submit recordings of themselves in various role playing exercises.

The latest scenario we are to enact involves us performing a role that I know, without a doubt, I am not currently capable of doing well.

It has brought to my mind a statement that my very astute paternal Grandmother once told me.

“Leave the composing to the composers.”

This was in response to me telling her that I had just composed my first song.

One could say that my Grandmother was rather forthright in her opinions. However, this statement has kept me from making some potentially embarrassing decisions over the years.

The memory has brought to mind a slew of other declarations that I have been the recipient of over the decades.

From my maternal Grandad:

“Take your lunch break.”

Usually this was followed by a small rant about the “importance” of only working the hours you are paid for. Sometimes though, it was accompanied by the instruction to

“Stretch your eyes.”

These conversations were enjoyed well before the days of home computers and smart phones.  He was certainly right then, about stretching one’s eyes, and I suspect it’s all the more important today.

Another helpful statement he made referred to safe driving.

“If, when you’re driving at night, the lights of an oncoming car are too bright, focus on the white line at the side of the road.  It will help you to stay in your lane.”

Many are the times that I have put Grandad’s driving advice to use.  I’m sure it’s saved me from many a disaster.

A keen gardener I knew long ago once said,

“Water the garden, even if the forecast says it’s going to rain.”

She was referring to growing plants, but what a great metaphor for all sorts of things.  For example:  Save your own money, even if you believe you are going to receive a handsome inheritance in the future.

My amazing Dad once told me to

“Stop holding the paint brush like a musician.” 

To this day, I have no idea what he meant, so I’ll add another piece of his advice.

“Choose a toilet paper that you like and only buy that one.”

If you’ve read my post about “Choice”, you’ll know how stressful I find toilet paper to be, so thanks to Dad’s advice, my time in that particular supermarket aisle has dramatically decreased.

However this advice is a slight mismatch to his own mother’s advice to

“Live by the specials.”

What if my favourite toilet paper isn’t on special when I need it?

Moving on… I was fortunate to have a primary school teacher who taught us several English proverbs, the meaning of many of them conflicting with others.

This has resulted in some humorous “arguments” in our family over the years.

While preparing a meal together: 

“Too many cooks are spoiling the broth!”  “Ah, yes.  But many hands are making light work.”

“Sorry, I forgot.  “Out of sight, out of mind.” ”  “But I thought absence made the heart grow fonder.”  

I’d like to think that I can leave my beautiful son with a few wise statements of my own, but I suspect I am failing on that count.  The only one I’ve come up with so far was in reference to a block  of cooking chocolate I had bought (on special). When he went to take a bite of it, I immediately pulled it away from him saying,

“It’s too expensive just to eat!”

It was designed to be cooked before eating, not eaten by the square.  To my mind we needed to get our money’s worth.

My beautiful son makes up for my lack of wise instruction.  Last week he informed me of the keystrokes to copy and paste text on my computer.  His instruction to

“Command C, Command V”

has literally added hours to my writing time, which has come at just the right time.  I need those hours to practise my role play - and write up this post.

Nikki