Sometimes we all need a helping hand

MY MUM would often ask her brood who broke a thing.

The usual response, ‘wisnae me’, was always countered by her: “What? Mr Nobody again?”

Whenever my gang of girls and I have a dinner together, everybody ‘mucks’ in. Invariably, a feast is prepared by said muckers and then, when the tributes fly, the phrase ‘wisnae me’ resounds again. This time with no one taking the credit – we’ve decided it must be ‘Mrs Somebody’ doing all the hard work.

After weeks of rehearsing our fringe show, just me and my writer/director alone in a room, we were beginning to flounder, not sure whether our show would sink or swim.

Saturday night at the Western Baths, we did the unplugged version of the show. We were so buoyed up when there were waves of applause and torrents of approval. We’d so forgotten how we need others to keep us afloat.

Afterwards in the bar, with my posse of girlfriends in tow, the chat about the show turned to one of its themes; summed up in the line: ‘Hey, we all need ‘haunners’.”

We all agreed the necessity to accept a helping hand was something we girls had to get our heads around, as we are all so independent. When did my generation start living like this, in wee pods, going it alone and looking out for number one? Our parents didn’t. I blame Thatcher but then, I blame Thatcher for lots of things. Earlier that day I’d gone to an open day to meet some folk who, I believe, have nailed the perfect balance of co-creative interdependent living. We’d all do well to take a leaf out of Enable’s book I tell you. Set up to support folk with learning disabilities, they now have a new community house in Esmond Street, in Yorkhill. The karaoke in the bright, cheery day room, was in full swing when I arrived. It’s a full house and the 22 en-suite bedrooms were fab. There are events and activities being organised every week, like arts and crafts, relaxation, exercise classes, and walking groups. There was even a pampering room leading onto an amazingly lovely garden, a library, and a big bright open plan kitchen/ diner.

With an open-door policy for family and friends to visit what’s not to like? We often joke, the single among my friends, that our independence would put any decent man off, but agree that the very worst thing that could happen is that we all end up living in a big hippy commune together.

If it were down to me, what I’d like to see in our commune is all that I saw in the Enable house, but maybe some dogs, cats and the odd goat (perhaps not the karaoke though).

I do believe, however, that it’s a nonsense to suggest we can go it alone – we stand together, or we fall apart. And finally... YOU know you are old when you head off to the Summer Nights concert at the Kelvingrove Bandstand with your thermals on and a robust cushion.

It’s a nonsense to suggest we can go it alone – we stand together, or we fall apart