The Merthyr Spirit

Had a truly great day today. The Spring sunshine felt like Summer, and d woke me for Aquarobics at an unfeasible hour. Ponced about for a bit in the pool, went and had a light breakfast at McDonalds - yes, McDonalds, shoot me now or get over yourselves! - and then went back for a gym session. Decided since the day was so nice, and I've been away from home for three days, to basically bum around Merthyr for a bit - did some shopping, had a couple of relaxed and chatty coffees. We were on our way home when d left my side instinctively. Took me a moment to see what she was doing.

There was an old lady, sitting on a stone bench, bleeding quite significantly from her nose.
Ahhh, there are some sights that just do your spirit good, you know?

No, of course that's not what I mean. What I mean is that the owner of a high-falutin' market stall had come down from his showman's world, complete with a natty top hat, and was making sure this old dear stayed conscious, stayed smiling, and gave him information that was necessary. He'd enlisted a couple of passers-by already, and they had, without hesitation, gone to a local cafe, where the staff had already called for an ambulance. We stopped to see if there was anything else that could be done.

Turns out this lady was 91, and had put her new open-toed shoes on on this bright Spring day...and gone over in them, smashing her nose on the ground. Looked a bit nasty, and was prone to bleeding. We wondered if there was anyone who could go with her in the ambulance once it arrived, or anyone we could contact. Phones were proffered. The lady knew her daughter's address, but couldn't, for the moment, remember her phone number - which is fair enough. You try being 91 and remembering your daughter's number off by heart after headbutting the Earth, go on, I dare ya! We've more than established recently I can hardly remember my own name in perfectly normal, non-plannet-nutting circumstances, and I'm just 40!

d, as is her Girl Scouting nature in such circumstances, started organising the response.
"Honey, take the groceries home, put the meat in the fridge, bring cash and my phone. I'll go with this lady in the ambulance. If we can get the address of her daughter written down, you take a cab to her place, let her know what's what, and if necessary, follow on with her in the cab."
Sounded like a plan to me, so I legged it. Refrigerated a big chunk of pork, grabbed the phone, fought with our savings bank for a handful of ten-pound notes, had a moderate argument with the girl-child next door, just because, and headed back. Got...because this is me...just a little lost on the way back, but found where I needed to be eventually; as d mentionedwhen I arrived, this was because I followed the visual clues available - "Bright yellow ambulance, bigger'n God..." Handed over the phone, d got into the ambulance, telling me that apparently, the lady's 71 year old daughter had now been contacted, so I could go on home...Which I did.

Had no sooner reached the flat the second time when d texted to say that Ma had now returned from an old school reunion in Cardiff, and asked if I could check on her.
"Wanna walk up there?" she texted.
Sure, why not? It was becoming the vibe of the day. I walked up to Ma and Dad - he was feeling brighter when I left, but by now, the blood transfusion he had on Wednesday is pretty much all but spent. Ma meanwhile saidshe'd drive me to pick up d from the hospital, so we did.

On the way, Ma regales us with the story of her purse.
Apparently, yesterday, she'd lost her purse at the local Aldi store. It had cash in it, though no credit cards. She'd gone back this morning, to find someone had handed it in, cash intact, without leaving their name and with the expectation of no reward.

Now, it would be easy to do the trite thing I've already done once or twice, which is to say "See, that's small town living for you - wouldn't get that in the big city..." I think that probably does big cities a disservice though. All I'll say is that for a town it has been spectacularly easy to bad-mouth over the decade, Merthyr couldn't have given me a better welcome home after a few, fairly incident-packed, days away, than a day like today - beautiful weather, simple closeness, and human beings being good to each other without expecting anything in return. That really does your belief in human beings a power of good.

Oh, today's interview of d was conducted by a gym employee, who while showing her how to use a piece of equipment that seemed to require a higher engineering degree to operate, caught the accent, and said:
"Where'ewfrom'en?..."

This, I've always known about Merthyr folk - they are, without doubt, Nature's journalists. Nosey, inquisitive, your-business-is-my-business people, who find nothing intrusive in asking direct questions about pretty much any aspect of your life that interests them. Turns out I've always been too busy resenting this intrusively questioning aspect of their nature to appreciate the upsides to your business being their business. Such as returning a purse intact, or making sure an old lady was cared for after a tumble in the street.

When you have a day like today, it makes you understand why Socialism - as distinct from Communism, whatever d says! - started here. The busybody instinct, used for good, can be a powerful estorative to the weary, cynical bastard.

Speaking of which, I'm now a weary cynical bastard...and so to bed! Big long walk ahead tomorrow, and hopefully some biking. It's good to be back into some sort of routine.