Today sees the advent of yours truly’s eighth week in COVID lockdown.
“How do you reflect on events in the previous 56 days, Gary?”, I hear you cry……. And even if you’re not I’m gonna tell you anyway!…….Come back! Come back!……. I’ll endeavour to make your ocular scan of these paragraphs as entertaining as possible.
Blimey, I’ve just upped the pressure on myself with the commitment above. Promising entertainment in your piece, although noble, potentially leaving the author with a burdensome target upon he/she’s back.
Further down the line, my boast potentially coming back to bite me in the ass. I’d suggest even if 80% of my readership approve of my penmanship, they’ll always be 10% who are utterly unimpressed. Not forgetting the 8% unable to make an informed opinion as their narcolepsy kicked in during paragraph two. Along with a remaining 17% who’ll shake their heads in despair at my inept understanding of the percentage process.
Consequently, I’ve come to terms when it comes to art and creativity, to borrow from Abraham Lincoln, you can’t please all of the people all of the time. However, I am prepared to hyperbolise to the 8% of my narcoleptic readership “You’ve missed a literary doozy!“……. Actually, why am I informing you of that?……. After all, you fell asleep two paragraphs ago!
I’d like to clarify, I’m not really vain glorious enough to generally bluster any of my penmanship is worthy of the title literary doozy. The grand boast above was merely used to set up the gag at the end of the last paragraph.
I’m relieved to chronicle I woke to find my back injury, which’s proved both a bane and pain all week, appears to have improved significantly overnight. In fact for the first time in five days I’ve had the wherewithal to pull up my undies, socks and shorts without rendering myself breathless with pain.
However, I’d no option other than endure this sharp discomfort. This a consequence of the only alternative left a real threat of an indecent exposure charge when stepping out to shop for essentials.
Anyhow, touch wood, the lumbar trauma I suffered on Monday while gardening is at last on the mend. Previous days have seen numerous back spasms producing significant, but thankfully fleeting, anguish.
However, the horticultural task being undertaken at the time will be worth it when the peony rose, whose liberty I gained with the maintenance, effloresces in the next week or so.
I’ve just realised introducing gardening as a topic within the narrative could have severe repercussions for my promise to make this piece entertaining. After all, horticulture’s a subject which anyone yet to reach middle-age generally approach with a very large barge pole.
Talking of barge poles evokes recollections of a work colleague during my early 20’s who’d a penchant for mixing his idioms and metaphors. This chap’s adage confusion bringing forth such wonderfully funny profferings of “I wouldn’t trust him with a barge pole!“, “He smokes like a fish!” and “He drinks like a chimney!”
Anyhow, it’s time to draw a line under this hooey. Now I can dry my legs and feet without recourse to yelping in pain, I’m going for a shower.
Hopefully at some juncture within these whimsical observations I succeeded in raising a smile, or at the very least left you content enough not to send me hate mail. If you did chortle, I”ll look back on these musings happy in the knowledge I’ve delivered on the earlier promise to entertain you.
Keep safe and remember things are never as dark as they seem!…… Unless, of course, you’re in a coal mine without a helmet lamp…… Or you have an overnight power cut…… Or if……. Actually, on reflection there’s load of things as black as they seem!…… As you were, troops!