I really think it would be best if I could just concentrate on doing one thing at a time, instead of flitting about from one to another, predictably ending up getting nothing done.
Perhaps I was a butterfly in a previous existence? Though I would have had to be a caterpillar first which wouldn’t have been much fun, now would it? All that crawling around, don’t you
know? Though occasionally, when life is particularly busy, the idea of going through the chrysalid stage when nobody expects anything of one except to sleep seems rather attractive. Especially with the prospect of transformation at the end of the Long Sleep...
Which is all very fanciful, I hear you say, but what you need to know is which of the many tasks I have started today have been left undone as I turned my attention to something
To start with, I had been entrusted by my friend Eleanor with a carrier bag full of used stamps and milk bottle tops which I had promised to take to
church for her. As is my wont, I have been transporting this carrier bag on the back seat of my car for the last three weeks, even though I have had plenty of opportunities to dispose of them every Sunday. Today was the day I would deliver them without fail,
I told myself. Unfortunately I was running extremely late this morning; grabbing the carrier bag in my haste to reach my customary pew if at all possible before the second hymn, I managed to tip half the contents all over the back seat and the floor of the
car. There was no time to stop to gather them up so I promised myself I would do this as soon as I got home.
Except that, while supping my mug of coffee after
the service, I was reminded by my friend Pam that it is likely to be a trifle muddy at Birdy Group tomorrow - so as soon as I arrived home, instead of retrieving the errant bottle tops and tidying up the car, I was busy rummaging in the garage to find my walking
boots. Finding them wasn’t too difficult - it was the realisation that both boots were still coated with mud, leaves, stones and twigs from their last outing with the Birdy Group.
I am getting on pretty well with cleaning my boots (all the time reminding myself that maybe it’s time I treated myself to a new pair - while knowing I will forget all about that idea till next month’s Birdy Outing comes
around too late for Boot Shopping) when the washing machine beeps to announce that today’s laundry is now all clean and dandy but needs hanging up on the drier upstairs. I stop what I am doing and leave the boots (one more or less clean, the other only
half so) on the doormat while I head upstairs with armfuls of clean washing.
I remove yesterday’s almost dry washing from the drier and hang up all
the wet clothes but before I can consign the almost dry to the airing cupboard I catch sight of a box of Mr B’s old sporting trophies rescued from the loft. Excellent! I tell myself as a new idea forms in my fertile mind. I have been on a mission of
late to surround Mr B with reminders of his happy life. Confined as he is these days mostly to one room, I am busily decorating the living room with photographs and other mementos of Days Gone By. On one wall, for example, there is a black and white drawing
of an old-fashioned print room, a nod to his working days as a compositor while above the TV is a framed photograph of Yours Truly aged 44 which Mr B says is his favourite picture of me. Interestingly (or perhaps not!) the photograph looks as if it was taken
in my Rock Chick days, what with my denim jacket and sultry smile - and doesn’t resemble me at all, either then or now.
I leave the almost dry washing
decorating the landing banister and turn to unpacking Mr B’s old sporting trophies and finding space for the most exciting looking of them on top of our two display cabinets. This means rearranging a number of photographs of the Tremendous Ten grandchildren
so there isn’t a whole lot of space up there - but at least Mr B can see them from his armchair and revel in Triumphs Past. There are a number of lesser medals which he isn’t too bothered about but which I reckon, with the engraved plates removed
from the lids, might do a turn for a golf club or table tennis club trying to cut down on their bill for medals. Such a good idea of mine but I’m not exactly sure how to go about finding a new home for them - and anyway, I need to put the dinner in the
oven (Spanish Tray Bake, courtesy of the Hairy Bikers)...
Have I actually completed any of the tasks I set myself today? I am racking my brains to think - and
then it comes to me - I’ve written today’s Daily Blog!
Well done, I tell myself, ignoring the muddy boot, the washing on the landing, the medals strewn
on the living room floor and the bottle tops on the floor and back seat of my car.
At least that’s one job jobbed (as my dear mum would doubtless say.)
Such a shame about the rest...