My Life on a Plate

Life is...

What happens to you while you're busy making other plans.

I think I've quoted that song line more than any other over the years. The older I get, the more relevant and poignant it seems.

I've reached the point now where I tend to push aside any plans that may start to formulate in my brain when I wake up. Experience has taught me as soon as I become vertical, life will throw all manner of unexpected surprises and irritants my way, so it's no good thinking an ordered, leisurely day lies ahead. It just doesn't happen that way. Instead I get up and ponder how long it will be before the first obstacle or problem rears its head. Sometimes it's immediate in the guise of lost spectacles, spilled tea or unexpected visitors. Other times it can be up to an hour before something comes along to cause hassle or confusion.

Today has been no different. At ten I waited for John the foot tickler to arrive. By quarter past he hadn't, leading to the first head-scratching moment of the day. I phoned his wife and threw her into a panic as she assured me he'd set out ages ago. Further phone calls confirmed he was at my friend Gillian's house. We alternate the reflexologist sessions weekly, but I swear it should have been at my place today and not hers. It's definitely her who's going senile not me , but I wasn't going to argue.

So, instead of a relaxing morning at my house, I then had to rush round in order to leave time to walk to hers. My next mistake came when I got the bird food out the cupboard and the vegetables to make a soup later from the shelf below. I topped up the bird bag with some bread, put the bird bag in the bread bin and took the veggies outside to give the birds. And I thought I was good at multi-tasking.

After correcting the problem and putting the bird food outside, I noticed the water in the bird bath had frozen over. So, instead of refilling it with my watering can as I usually do, I returned to the kitchen to get the freshly boiled kettle. Immediately I reached the bird bath again, I'd forgotten it was the kettle I had in my hand, sloshed it into the bird bath and it splattered all over my foot.

After hopping back to the house I noticed a pile of small change on the kitchen table. We keep a little money box for the twin grandsons and put any loose coins in it for them, so I thought I'd just drop them in before going out. I picked up the money box and immediately the bottom fell out and about a £100000 worth of coppers and small coins scattered in all directions all over the lounge.

After crawling round on hands and knees retrieving coins, I dashed out the door to walk to Gillian's house. Crossing the park I spotted a stray worm on the path, decided I didn't have time to rescue it, took five more steps foward then decided I couldn't cope with the guilt of leaving it to frazzle and went back. On closer inspection said worm looked a little worse for wear, if not already deceased, but it still had a gooeyish look about it, so I decided it may stand a chance if I moved it onto grass and covered it with leaves. Not wishing to arrive at Gillian's covered in worm goo I used my last tissue to deposit the worm under a hedge. It neither thanked me or showed any sign of still being on the mortal coil, but I'd done my best.

Finally I arrived at Gillian's house breathless, with a runny nose and no tissue, late of corset. I'd only been up a couple of hours and already the day was turning into a series of mini-disasters and frustrating mishaps. I should be used to it by now; most of my days turn out that way, but sometimes the sheer possibilities of what the rest of the day holds is enough to drive me to drink. And no doubt it will.

In the words of another of my favourite songs...

'Life gets tedious don't it? '