Friday, 29 August 2014
What is it with me and, no doubt, many others.
You know that what you are doing isn’t good for you. Experience has shown that that is so and you have often paid the price. And yet, you refuse to learn.
"It needs doing”, is what you say. Or “It’s my duty”. Or “But I enjoy it”.
“Maybe this time I’ll get away with it”.
“Let’s just test the waters, no more than a toe .... "
“I promise to stop at the smallest sign”.
“I’m sure it’ll be alright”.
Luckily, it was. At the first sign of trouble I stopped, terrified. Sat down, swallowed my medicines and waited. Pathetically whimpering “please, please, not again.” Not out loud, of course, that would be too shameful. I do have a bit of dignity left, in case you’re wondering.
Stretching up into the plum tree, picking what the birds had left, then heaving a dozen heavy fork loads of damp vegetation from one compost bin into the other, following this with filling the green wheelie bin ready for garden rubbish collection and dragging it 170 yards down the drive to the road, none of that would have fazed me before. In fact, it would have been barely a couple of hours work.
I hate that I can’t do this now without repercussions. It’s not fair. Not bloody fair.
How stupid of me that I can’t get it into my head that things are what they are and that the judicious application of common sense would ensure a relatively trouble free existence for many years to come.
“Yes, but ..........
"Against stupidity the Gods themselves struggle in vain,” so old Friedrich von Schiller said.
I left the fork leaning against the compost heaps. Every time I go by I pick it up, load it up and dump the load into the next bin. One or three forkfuls at a time. I wonder how long I manage to restrict myself.