The Wrong Kind of Leaves

‘The Wrong Kind of Leaves’ is short-hand for much of what goes wrong in British life.  We just don’t seem to prepare properly for anything these days – possibly because life is so complicated and the paperwork so overwhelming that there is no energy left to tackle anything new!
So. I lined up, with all the senior citizens, to get my flu jab (got a track history of chest infections – honest – no kidding!) and managed to avoid the challenging glances of the few who clearly thought I had no business to be there.  I was careful with my diet.  I took my multi-vitamins and I kept going, through thick and thin, to fulfil my commitments to society in general and family and local community, in particular.  And where do I land up by way of reward? A holiday destination in the sun? Huh! In bed with a VERY NASTY chest infection and ribs so sore I just can’t bear to cough any more! If just one person who reads this feels even the slightest bit sorry for me – well I probably don’t deserve it, so please transfer your sympathy to OV who is TRYING VERY HARD to look after me and has now got the knack of ‘tempting morsals’ as opposed to cheese sandwiches.  Bless him. 
It would seem that no amount of preparation can protect us from the stuff chucked at us.  I am just grateful that the heating is working and that no bombs will fall on me tonight. Since I am awake for most of the night listening to the World Service on my radio, my thoughts are with all the people suffering such appalling pain and terror, trapped in Gaza… and people everywhere who get such a raw deal in this world. My problems will be solved by readily available medicines and simply resting. Perhaps those leaves aren’t really so very wrong after all.
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About apthomas

I love books, reading, writing, baking, chocolate, painting, sewing, people and fairtrade - not necessarily in that order. I am a lazy gardener - who loves the garden, and a lazy housewife who likes the place to be warm and welcoming. I live in beautiful Somerset. I am enslaved by Sherpa-the-cat. Saturday mornings find me 'playing shop' in the Honey Pot - a second hand bookshop, run from my garage, where along with the books you'll find fun, friendship and refreshments - all in a good cause.
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