Some topics naturally fit together. All will become clear…..
I went for a walk today. Regular perusers of this particular repository of random thoughts will know that the correct response is not “really, Claire, where did you go?” but rather, “Really Claire? What happened this time?” Newcomers might like to try this as an example of what has happened in the past….
So today, I was
1. Asked if I would mind being bait for two terriers who were finding the undergrowth more interesting than the calls of their mistress. (For the record, they ignored me as heartily as they ignored her.)
2. Addressed as “my dear chap” by an approaching elderly gentleman cyclist, and told to look out for the rain coming from the south.
3. Held in some measure of contempt by the lady driving the Nissan Micra along the bridleway under the instruction of her SatNav, for my belief that my OS map might be more accurate. However, we were able to agree that there was no sign of the house she sought, and I didn’t laugh as she used the very wide bridleway and convenient gate to perform a seventeen point turn.
4. Briefly mis-located as I missed the dog sized hole in the hedge which led to the path I actually wanted. (This did get rectified within about thirty yards, my navigation is not that bad.
It was when I crossed the road and got to the open field that I made my first bad decision. Here’s the view. Note the wonderful open aspect, the rolling countryside, and the bloody enormous black cloud. When I saw the cloud, I got out my waterproof jacket, and put it on, and checked the map so I wouldn’t have to get it out in the rain. What I failed to do was to put on the waterproof overtrousers I’d slung into my rucksack just in case. Within 20 seconds, I was deeply regretting not putting them on as rain, unimpeded by any obstacle at all, lashed into my left flank at 45 degrees. Within a further 10 seconds, I realised it was now completely pointless putting the overtrousers on, as I was wet through from the hem of my jacket to the top of my boots. I gritted my teeth, reminded myself of how stupid I can be and strode on. For three quarters of a mile of open hill top. The water seeped down into my boots, and managed to wick its way up as well. In spite of the sunshine which followed, I arrived back at the car with trousers soaked from waistband to ankle. The car park was deserted, there wasn’t a soul in sight, I knew I could make it safely back into my house from the car, and I didn’t want to spend half an hour driving home in soaked trousers. So I made my second bad decision, to remove the aforementioned trousers.
The rest, dear reader, is history. A helicopter appeared overhead (really!), a car pulled into the car park…..oh, knickers!