|
“What size of shoe do you take?”
“A shoe the size of my feet.”
Well I didn’t
expect that sort of answer, of course, a bit off-beam if you ask
me, given to me by a child actually, quite logical of course, perfectly
correct, but still unexpected.
On this note,
have you ever had one of those days when things go a bit off-beam
yourself? I’m sure you have. Haven’t we all? The sort
of day when an inanimate object hits you square in the face for
no apparent reason. Or a stupid day – a day when you do stupid
things? I had a stupid day recently. Very painful it was too.
I was ambling
along the pavement and admiring the shrubs in the park (Buddleia,
Jasmine, Philadelphus, that sort of thing) when a lamp post hit
me on the side of the head. Not really the sort of thing that you
expect to happen, is it, and very similar, in fact, to an incident
a number of years ago involving a young lady called Cassandra: ‘The
Cassandra Incident’.
Cassandra was
sauntering along the roadside verge without a care in the world
– just like me - when she was hit full in the face by a road
sign, dented it too, and even now, years later, the imprint of her
face (main features only – nose, chin and forehead) are clearly
visible beneath the words ‘Please Give Way To On-Coming Traffic’.
For some reason she didn’t see it, you see, and this despite
the fact that she was looking straight ahead at the time. Now there’s
a mystery for you. And what do you say after witnessing an incident
like that? ‘Are you alright’ is a bit lame, a bit weak,
isn’t it, particularly when the poor woman is holding her
face and making such horrible moaning noises. Or do you say nothing
and pretend not to notice? Now there’s a dilemma. I said nothing
at the time, of course, because I didn’t want to embarrass
her. Sometimes it’s best to turn a blind eye, isn’t
it, so I admired the wild poppies in the field opposite and pretended
not to notice anything untoward as she lay dazed and horizontal
on the grass beside me. (In hindsight though – if I recall
correctly - this was an error of judgment for she was not best pleased,
no, not best pleased at all).
But anyway,
the final outcome to this saga was simply a matter of dented pride,
dented road sign and no lasting physical injuries to speak of. To
this day, however, I can still hear the sound of Cassandra on Road
Sign as she connected with metal – a ringing, tinging sort
of noise.
The lamp post
and the road sign incident were accidental of course, but sometimes
this is not the case. Have you ever been tempted to stand on a garden
rake that’s lying ‘wrong-side’ up on the lawn,
I wonder?
Well of course
you have. Who hasn’t?
You know that
you shouldn’t, of course, you know what will happen if you
do - it’s inevitable, isn’t it? - but you stand on it
anyway, just a bit, just enough to get the handle rising slowly
off the ground, then wallop, it hits you full in the face before
you can say ‘Jack Robinson’, ‘Gordon Bennet’
or whatever your colloquial phrase might be. Very painful. Do it
once and never do it again.
But no matter
what dangers lurk out there in the garden (and who invented the
garden shredder for heaven’s sake!) we still opt to pursue
such a satisfying pastime with obsessive zeal.
So how about
life without gardening?
Would that be a good idea? Cut down on some of the risks associated
with life in general?
No, that’s
unthinkable, isn’t it? Give me a bit of risk and stupidity
any day. After all, isn’t that what life’s all about?
|