A Psychic Moment Reveals What I’ve Forgotten

Image by JoAnn Mangione from Pixabay

Sitting in the waiting room, I know I’ve forgotten something. My 6th sense is clamouring but I’m only having blood tests — and both arms are present and correct.

Idly listening to a father and small daughter, also waiting, checking out their magazine.

"Dad, can I open the free gift?"

"Not here."

I can see it emblazoned on the cover. Free Tarot Cards with every issue. He’s telling her you have to be careful with them, he’ll show her what to do when they get home.

I’m not sure I approve. She only looks about six.

They’re called in, and go past me. The magazine cover floats by at close range.

Ah… Free Carrot Seeds.

I know what I forgot — my glasses.

***

Originally published in The Daily Cuppa.

A Bit of a Calamity - And goodness me, can’t broken glass spread!

Today was scheduled for writing. Not any more.

The other day I broke the cafetière. I carelessly set it down in the wrong place and it took a dive.

I should have known better. I’ve studied Physics. I know about centres of gravity and balance. I also know that our kitchen floor doesn’t take prisoners. Glass everywhere.

Can’t broken glass spread! It would be impressive if it wasn't so annoying.

I sent for a new one at once and today it arrived, ready smashed. I swear the kitchen floor smirked when I opened the box.

What shall I do with my time today? Continue to find glass in unlikely corners of the kitchen, I suppose. I don’t know what else I can do. I can’t write without coffee.

***

Originally published in The Daily Cuppa.

A Week In Waves

Our nearest coastline is famously fast eroding, though we’re not in any danger of inundation as long as the climate scientists are heeded. Up until relatively recently, it was a given that they would be; the issue was whether or not they had workable solutions. Now they have workable solutions, but who knows?

For us, this has been a week of beach walks.

For the rest of the story, CLICK HERE.

The Awkward Handshake

Image by Hatice EROL from Pixabay

I wrote recently about the awkwardness of shaking hands with myself — when introduced to my alter ego. It got me thinking about awkward handshakes.

My most difficult was a doctor introducing me to a new colleague, a nervy young man who rushed politely to proffer his hand from behind me.

I was lying face down preparatory to a minor surgical procedure on my back.

If there’s a position other than lying face down, from which it’s harder to shake the hand of someone standing behind you, I don’t know what it would be.

I was reminded of the way dentists will fill your mouth with hardware and then ask a question that needs a detailed answer. I’m sure that young man was destined for dentistry.

***

Originally published in The Daily Cuppa.

Arachnophobia — A Gender Thing?

I was in the bath, towelling my hair prior to getting out, when a thing dropped from the towel into the water.

I leapt out — Aaaagh! — and flung away the towel. I know spiders don’t come in packs, but who thinks rationally when sharing a bath with an eight-legged monster from hell?

My shriek brought my knight-in-shining-armor to my rescue. He pushed past, carefully scooped up the spider, and carried it off.

Hey, what about my towel?

When I emerged, I found him drying the recovering arachnid with a hair-dryer. He said, “It’ll be OK,” like that was what I wanted to hear.

I thought dark thoughts but said nothing.

It’s a gender thing.

***

Originally published in The Daily Cuppa.

Time Itself Went Walkabout This Week

 

This hasn’t been a conventional week — none of this 7 days 7 nights nonsense, just a maelstrom of activity catapulting us from one high-octane activity to the next. I feel as though any photos taken have been by chance, but can identify only one that I didn’t mean to take.

In busy but fast-moving traffic when we were already running late for a hospital appointment, we met a “ROAD CLOSED” sign. Some closed roads are barely an inconvenience, and some denote a many-miles detour. Guess which sort this one was.

For the rest of the story, CLICK HERE.

A Trip To The Wilds Of Southern England

A week or so ago, I took a week-long trip to see family. It was a multi-stage trip collecting one family member en route, and another one on the way back; a round trip of just over 360 miles.

As an aside, I’m aware that the British see distances differently from Americans. For me, 360 miles is a long drive, but I expect my friends across the pond would think nothing of driving that far for a pizza.

British people think 100 miles is a long way; Americans think 100 years is a long time.

Before I set out, I checked the state of the homestead.

For the rest of the story, CLICK HERE.