Caveat: Tree #1575 “A challenge”

This tree confronted overcast skies.


My mental association with me yelling is that I’m angry. Or terrified of something. Of course, this makes sense. I’m not a person to raise his voice without good reason.

The “emotional” problem I have in dealing with Arthur is that – in the context of his increasing deafness – the only way to get through to him in answer to whatever banal, day-to-day questions he asks of me (and always without his hearing aids, because he “forgets” to put in his hearing aids, of course), is to yell: much louder than my accustomed tone of voice. And the mental trick my mind plays, that I can’t seem to overcome, is that by yelling, I become angry – whether or not I really am. And I just can’t seem to bypass this gut-level, emotional reaction.

Arthur asks me “What’s for dinner?”

I answer, in a regular tone, “I thought we’d have a salad.”

“What? Who?”

Louder, I repeat, “I thought we’d have a salad.”

“A palace?”

Louder still, I yell, “No. A salad!” Now I’m angry. My gut is churning.

Meanwhile, “Oh, a salad. I thought you said palace. I was very confused. Why would we have a palace for dinner?”

“Just a @#$% salad!”

Repeat, on different banal topics, 10-20 times a day.

CaveatDumpTruck Logo[daily log: walking, 1.5km;]

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