We had a slightly colder winter than normal and now spring is far drier than I’ve ever witnessed it, with almost two full weeks without so much as a sprinkle of rain. It did rain on my parade today though, when I hopped and skipped to court from the carpark, without a care in the world, taking in the beautiful Victorian buildings of Manchester city centre and the pastel blue sky.
I cannot even say how, when or why it happened; whatever it was, I found myself sitting on the tarmac, crashed down onto my bottom as if my legs had been taken out by a fishing line. Good job I’ve got a sense of humour... I envisaged the scene from the outside, this tall, large woman in a red coat striding along with confidence one second and the same tall, large woman a heap on the ground, as graceful as a jute sack of potatoes all scattered across the road. I had to fight the laughter as I did not want to appear mentally unstable, as well as physically so.
I should just be grateful I didn’t break anything. I limped all the way with a bleeding knee and it was only after much pleading that I was given a plaster, just in case ‘you’re allergic to latex and then sue us’. I repeat, good job I’ve got a sense of humour.
