Crazy Crones Unite

OK that’s enough: I’ve started fighting back now.  I’ve inaugurated a group on Facebook for menopausal and post-menopausal women to share their experiences because, in my view, there’s not nearly enough of This Sort of Thing going on: women exist in isolation, struggling with menopausal symptoms and we need a forum for sharing them.  I thought I was going completely mad when I started Changing, and had I known how common it is to suffer psychosis and short-term memory loss during this period, I wouldn’t have felt half so frightened.  I don’t know what the solution is – but I do know that knowledge is power, so if you are – or think you are – in that category, send me a friend request on Facebook and I’ll add you.  The group is called Crazy Crones.

Good title, eh?

Yesterday I scavenged some wood from round the back of our house.  This is a useful place for picking up and depositing stuff: it’s a disused garage with a space in front where, if you put out dead electrical goods, some mysterious people in a van will come and take them before you can get to the shops and back, and where people also tend to deposit old furniture and wood.  Now, normally I’m against This Sort of Thing as it’s unsightly and untidy, but it can be very useful to trawl the neighbourhood scavenging wood and other things you need.  Last week I found a perfectly good chair in someone’s front yard which I brought home, cleaned with alcohol and polish, and then sat on.  There’s nothing whatever wrong with it, and it’s a very useful addition to our household.  So in connection with thinking of ways to live without money, this stuff is all relevant.

But! this morning my thoughts were taken up with K. Stuart Hart.  And who is K Stuart Hart? I hear you cry.  Well, I don’t – but you know what I mean.  K Stuart Hart (I never found out what the K stood for, unless it was ‘Knighthood’) was my piano teacher.  A well-known figure in the area, he taught piano to just about every middle-class child in West London and was regarded by most with affection and respect.  He was very definitely ‘old-school’, though gentle with it, and he got on a lot better with girls than with boys as, being a man of short stature, he felt inferior to most other males.  I liked him a lot and he taught me a great deal: however, one thing he never managed to teach me was how to sight-read.  I can’t help wondering if nowadays this would be regarded as some kind of learning difficulty – because, just as knowing the alphabet is not the same as being able to read, so it is that I know how to read music; I know which notes are which and what all the little dots and squiggles mean, but I just can’t look at a piece of music and play it.  My sight-reading is painful, to say the least – and it was only due to my great skill in aural work that I was able to pass my piano exams at all.  On the other hand, once I’ve learned a piece of music I can play it from memory years later – yesterday I was playing a few pieces of Bach which I learned about 10 years ago and last looked at probably five years ago.

Yes!  Apparently it’s called ‘dysmusia’ and there’s an article about it here, though I can’t read it:;jsessionid=A998C597284BCBCF9252175A94A4CF60.journals?fromPage=online&aid=2067

Kirk out


2 thoughts on “Crazy Crones Unite

    1. I don’t know. I can see why it might be helpful but I’ll ask the members what they think


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