*
It had already been a long, sticky, drive…
We had finished up our ‘rekkie’ just after One Bell when Wen finally pointed the aerodynamic nose of the Green Goddess towards Avebury…
The heat in the day showed no signs of abating as we entered the Giant Circle of Stone…
A liquid dinner seemed like the order of the day before the inevitable call of the stones sucked us into the green…
*
*
Thus it was that on the road from Bicester, the final stretch of our already over long stretch, the hunger pangs began to approach unbearable.
“Are we aware of any acceptable eateries en route?”
“There is always the White Horse Inn?”
Which, bound as it was to add another couple of hours on the journey, sounded like a stretch too far but then, breakfast did now feel like something of an ancient history.
“We can’t can we?”
“I wouldn’t have suggested it if we couldn’t.”
“The White Horse Inn, it is, then.”
It proved a master stroke.
Two unusually fine pizzas and a pint-and-a-half of cider later and we were heading up to the Dragon to catch the last rays of the day’s Sun…
*
to be continued…
Stuart France 
This recounting of a story of the word ‘can’t’ stuck in my memory. As a child, whenever I said I could not do something, my mother always replied, “There’s no such word as can’t in the English dictionary.” And you know what? She was right. This is one of those gates we create out of our own minds; I am not sure what creates that blockage. As babies, we don’t think “I can’t” when our tiny wobbly legs are telling us to get up and walk. We might have to change our course of action and crawl a bit first, but we keep trying to get up. At what point in our thinking does the word ‘can’t come into being, and what triggers it?
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As soon as we become comfortable…
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And how much of it comes from listening to others who tell us repeatedly that we can’t in some form or another, and accepting that judgment? I can so remember the words, “Don’t eat that fruit; it will kill you,” or “Don’t climb on that fence; you will fall and break your neck.” All too many times as children especially, we are told that we cannot do something because it is so dangerous. Dangerous to whom? And as adults, we are often discouraged from doing something because of what someone else says. As an artist, I once made a red woman, who was going to become part of a sculpture with many red women standing on a hill, representing the spirit of women. I made the mistake of showing it to another artist, who immediately set out to murder my soul with comments of how poorly it was constructed, and other similar comments. I went home and put the red woman to sleep in a drawer where it sat so many years. Today she stands on a shelf at the top of my desk, to help me remember that can’t is not needed in my vocabulary.
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Thank you kindly.
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Sounds lovely.
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Aye, t’was, t’was indeed…
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Just lovely Stuart. 🙂
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Thanks, Debby… 😉
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🙂
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A great post, Stuart.
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😉
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