".....and then my heart with pleasure fills and dances with the daffodils"
A rather different Wednesday. As people always say (always, always, always) "It's all in a good cause". And a very, very good cause this one is. Peter Heath has been involved for quite a while in with Marie Curie Cancer Care, who provide end of life care for terminal patients at their homes, 24 hours a day.
I've never done this before, and had no idea what to expect - apart from standing still, NOT rattling my collecting vessel, NOT shouting, accosting or harassing, not standing near to one's partner in collection (thus no talking amongst ourselves), and having to wear a TABARD
(snappy title above, copyright Justin Wallace) - oh, and I believe that it is permissible to smile, look friendly and approachable. I know, I know, but I think that I may have just about risen to the challenge.
(snappy title above, copyright Justin Wallace) - oh, and I believe that it is permissible to smile, look friendly and approachable. I know, I know, but I think that I may have just about risen to the challenge.Ann Fish was to be my opposite number, the other side of the Marks and Spencer portals. We met at the nerve centre of MCCC in (ironically?) Well Street at 08.45. Ann chose a warm white hat decorated with a Crowd, a Host of daffodils. I managed to escape with a powder blue cap had a similar crop, which I hoped would be fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Smile muscles limbered and deployed, we took our posts as the clock above Moyses Hall struck nine. "clink" - Ann gets the first contribution. And the second and third. Will I be faced with inadequate ignominy? Explaining to Peter my total inability to charm cash out of the passing crowd? Where is Neil when you need him?
I watch the host, all keen to complete their quotidian tasks, nipping in to Marks & Sparks for knickers and sarnies and chance remarks from friends reminding (with a start) that time's unwinding - already, March. And then they emerge with loaded bags to be reminded of mortality by two, cold collectors, they recognise the yellow, know the name. Where's my change? I'll make it a note, they helped Mum (and Grandad, too)
"you look cold, wouldn't like to do what you're doing"
"Here's one for Mum and one for Dad" (that's tenners, not coins)
"They do more than any other"
"I've got a Direct Debit, but take this, now, as well"
Widows' mites are a common theme (widows might and many do)
Nearly an hour goes slowly by, and the clock corrects me with the quarter-chime; that's fifteen minutes gone, not fifty. More shoppers, the Market Traders have to break off from their gossip more often, my cash container starts to actually feel heavy; I notice Ann easing her back by leaning on the litter bin, moving from leg to leg (in my head I hear Sharon "Engage your core, deep breath, ears, shoulders, hips in line, spine in neutral").
Mr President Picking and First Lady Brenda arrive - time to stop! 
In the end, the time went quite quickly and, with tacit permission to look at everyone passing (the majority of eyes swing to side or down, avoiding contact) I find that I notice a great deal more about the composition of the market day crowd in Bury St Edmunds. If I was a physio or osteopath, I would be in despair at the posture and movement of those who don't appear to have any ailment (yet). The different levels of effort put into appearance, and the effect of the result on perception (make mental notes to throw out several mis-shaped favourite items of clothing); the shambling swagger of young men - in essence, this is unchanged since time began and magically disappears with time (for the majority). I leave the last word to Peter, from his email of thanks
"Thanks very much for volunteering to help this year and thank goodness we had a dry day. The total raised was £1499, a brilliant effort and £600 more than last year but with 7 more collectors. You did very well yourself collecting £65:91, a great total, very well done.
The sum raised will be used within Suffolk and will pay for 75 hours of expert nursing care for those far less fortunate that ourselves. Thanks for making a difference to their comfort and for supporting their families"
SJH.
Smile muscles limbered and deployed, we took our posts as the clock above Moyses Hall struck nine. "clink" - Ann gets the first contribution. And the second and third. Will I be faced with inadequate ignominy? Explaining to Peter my total inability to charm cash out of the passing crowd? Where is Neil when you need him?
I watch the host, all keen to complete their quotidian tasks, nipping in to Marks & Sparks for knickers and sarnies and chance remarks from friends reminding (with a start) that time's unwinding - already, March. And then they emerge with loaded bags to be reminded of mortality by two, cold collectors, they recognise the yellow, know the name. Where's my change? I'll make it a note, they helped Mum (and Grandad, too)
"you look cold, wouldn't like to do what you're doing"
"Here's one for Mum and one for Dad" (that's tenners, not coins)
"They do more than any other"
"I've got a Direct Debit, but take this, now, as well"
Widows' mites are a common theme (widows might and many do)
Nearly an hour goes slowly by, and the clock corrects me with the quarter-chime; that's fifteen minutes gone, not fifty. More shoppers, the Market Traders have to break off from their gossip more often, my cash container starts to actually feel heavy; I notice Ann easing her back by leaning on the litter bin, moving from leg to leg (in my head I hear Sharon "Engage your core, deep breath, ears, shoulders, hips in line, spine in neutral").
Mr President Picking and First Lady Brenda arrive - time to stop! 
In the end, the time went quite quickly and, with tacit permission to look at everyone passing (the majority of eyes swing to side or down, avoiding contact) I find that I notice a great deal more about the composition of the market day crowd in Bury St Edmunds. If I was a physio or osteopath, I would be in despair at the posture and movement of those who don't appear to have any ailment (yet). The different levels of effort put into appearance, and the effect of the result on perception (make mental notes to throw out several mis-shaped favourite items of clothing); the shambling swagger of young men - in essence, this is unchanged since time began and magically disappears with time (for the majority). I leave the last word to Peter, from his email of thanks"Thanks very much for volunteering to help this year and thank goodness we had a dry day. The total raised was £1499, a brilliant effort and £600 more than last year but with 7 more collectors. You did very well yourself collecting £65:91, a great total, very well done.
The sum raised will be used within Suffolk and will pay for 75 hours of expert nursing care for those far less fortunate that ourselves. Thanks for making a difference to their comfort and for supporting their families"
SJH.
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