The Rise of the Pound

Might this be a solution to the current financial difficulties? Not being an economist, or even someone who is savvy about her own finances, I rather doubt it.

Nonetheless, let me tell you the story of a very personal rise in the pound.

My much-loved computer, after serving me faithfully for many years, finally succumbed to old age. A new computer was ordered and duly arrived to take its place. Although I felt disloyal to my old friend in even admiring this newcomer, it had to be admitted that it was very beautiful.

Not only that, it had the amazing facility of allowing its operational parts to be completely detached - it was, literally, wire-less.

The keyboard that I am typing on at this moment has no connection to its parent body, the 'mouse' is equally free to roam at will and responds to being gently stroked on the back.

How does everything operate under these conditions?

I've no idea . . . but I'm suitably awed and impressed.

The one thing that was reassuringly familiar was the layout of the keyboard. Here, if nowhere else on my modern marvel, I felt at home. Letters, numerals, signs and symbols, all were positioned as they always had been . . . or so I thought. Only when I had the need to use the pound symbol did I realise that something was different. There, on my new keyboard, was the dollar sharing a key with number 4, the pound sharing a key with number 3, and the euro sharing the 'at' symbol on a rather crowded number 2. The three major western society currencies were all there.

However, when I attempted to type the pound symbol all I could get was an unexpected and unwanted 'hash'. The dollar was working perfectly, but not the pound.

What had happened? I knew the economy was in dire straits, but I didn't realise that the pound had sunk without trace.

But what if the problem was more subtle than that? What if my American-designed AppleMac, mindful of its country of origin and of America's colonial past, had felt slighted by my wish to use the pound symbol before using the dollar? What if the detached keyboard had decided that other links could be severed, and had done so by removing the pound and establishing a fiscal Declaration of Independence?

I phoned the helpful technician who had installed my new marvel. By means of gentle tweaking, raising a flag here, lowering a flag there, yet maintaining an entente cordiale throughout, we managed to restore the pound whilst retaining the dollar. The 'special relationship' had been re-established!

My new computer can now, free of any national allegiance offer the pound, the dollar or the euro to anyone in need.

I wonder, might this same technique help our economic crisis? A little gentle tweaking, a recognition of flags and priorities, an acknowledgement that some things are beyond our understanding and that, ultimately, we are all here to help each other?

It might be worth a try.

The Gift

It's funny, isn't it, how long it sometimes takes before we realise the obvious. May I tell you about one such discovery that I made the other day?

Chloe, as you know, is a registered Pets As Therapy cat, we visit a local nursing home each week. This discovery relates to the nursing home, and to something I've never heard mentioned when people speak of the therapeutic benefit of animals.

Just think about it for a moment.

What is the sound that you never hear in a nursing home?

You are aware of the ubiquitous background noise of the vacuum cleaner, the squeak of wheel chairs in motion, nurses' quick feet hurrying down the passages, water running in the basins, the occasional voice . . . but you rarely, if ever, hear the sound of laughter.

This is the gift that Chloe, in her innocence and exuberance, brings to the nursing home on every visit.

Each time she enters a resident's room the tired, unfocussed eyes of the occupant light up with sudden interest.

"May Chloe come and visit you?" I ask . . . and the welcoming face grows pink with pleasure.

The chuckles start as she begins her enthusiastic examination of the room and its contents . . . the books on the bookshelf . . . flowers on a table . . . the view from the window. An unexpected pigeon in the garden below can be a cause for general excitement!

Each resident's room, so familiar to the occupant as to have become

invisible, is transformed, through Chloe's eyes, into a veritable Aladdin's cave of unexpected treasures.

Confident in her role as a welcome visitor, Chloe is perfectly happy to let the residents take her by the lead and fondle her.

"When I'm better, may I take her for a walk?" asked a frail, dementia sufferer the other day.

"Of course," I agreed.

What did it matter that the walk would never take place. With Chloe lying happily at her feet, we planned all the details . . . an imaginary walk to the accompaniment of much laughter.

Only an animal could achieve this miracle. Sympathy, kindness and consideration don't evoke laughter. But an animal, unquestioningly accepting the situation for what it is, brings into a sterile atmosphere the heady ingredients of vitality, curiosity . . . and fun.

Which, as I'm sure you'd agree, is a source of stimulus more powerful and effective than any medicine.

Think of us at the nursing home this week. Picture the happy chuckles that will doubtless mark Chloe's enthusiastic progress from room to room.

I couldn't produce this effect . . . Chloe can!