Sleeping last night was difficult with the heat and with a side effect of my lupus and several other related ailments, so I had to take one of the sleeping pills my Dr prescribed in response to one of the other ailments, and I did have a good night’s sleep after all. Upon being woken soon after dawn this morning by the sound of the Dawn Chorus coming in through the open window combined with the racket from the Bin-Men’s lorry I got up early to enjoy the warm sunshine. At the time, I was full of the joys of spring and decided to bring the grey bin back into the garden now that the men had been to empty it (thank God for that, its contents had been rotting away in there for the last fortnight). The lid lay open and was dangling backwards, with the bin liner still flapping in the warm breeze and several bits of its previous contents, which hadn’t come away during the emptying process, were still clinging to the inside of the bin liner. It therefore seemed a good idea to pull the bin along with my hands behind my back to avoid the filthy plastic liner blowing out and wiping itself against my clean shirt. (I’ve always been joyfully impulsive, and often make spontaneous decisions – which is a part of my naturally cheerful and optimistic disposition I guess – I just said that to counter the scurrilous suggestion from some, that I am either a Grumpy Old Man, or a Miserable Git depending on your point of view) – then the bin’s wheels suddenly came into contact with the step that runs across the front garden patio.
Well, the bin stopped dead jerking me backwards. I fell inside it, bottom-first, then, just as I sat up and stuck my head out to extricate myself, the lid, which by then was tottering vertically, decided to fall forwards and whack me very hard across my face. Have you any idea how heavy those lids are – Yes, of course you have, you must have lifted them yourself... sorry!
So, the lid smacked me hard across the face, blacking both eyes making by nose bleed and knocking me backwards into the depths to join all the remaining teabags, sticky eggshells, banana skins, potato peelings and stuff still sticking to the sides of the bin liner.
I tried harder to extricate myself, but as I did, the aforementioned light, warm breeze mischievously wrapped the dirty bag and sticky things, around me, binding both my legs tightly together, so that when I finally managed to yank myself out of this smelly container with my ankles tied firmly together, I tripped and fell forward on to the paving stones, making by nose bleed even more, and raising a large bruise on my forehead – I can’t see without a mirror, but I can still feel the lump!
As I was trailing peelings, banana skins, teabags and sticky egg shells across the kitchen floor I asked my loving and patient wife to help me clean myself up, hoping I could play the sympathy card, or the ‘what-am-I-like?’ amusement card, but when she stepped on one of the banana skins and fell on to the tiles, bruising her backside, she had a sense-of-humour failure, and we had a full and frank exchange of views, during which I defended myself by offering helpful advice about putting vegetable waste in the green bin and not the grey bin. Advice which I’m sad to say, was not accepted in the constructive way it was offered. Then I trailed stinking rubbish all the way up the freshly-cleaned stairs until I got to the bathroom to wash it all off.
So you see why I’m not really myself today; however I still have the chocolate my daughter gave me on Fathers’ Day.
Maybe things will lighten up later . . . . . . . .
