Polos of Death
Breakfasted with mum so she could have a quick look at my tax and pass it on to my accountant for checking. Lots of buttery croissants and tea. We had a go at backing up her files, and then when they all went off to Braintree I came home and checked my windows, which seem to be bone dry in the presence of the moisture gobblers.
I had been hoping to go out with the camera and take some pictures of autumn, but the clouds had come across and everything was grey and dark, so I fiddled around online for a while and cursed the BBC weather site for being wrong. If I’d have known it was going to be grey I’d have gone out yesterday instead, when it was sunny and warm.
Then, very suddenly, just as I was thinking about lunch, everything cleared. The clouds seemed to disappear and the sun broke through, so I bolted my veg ravioli and headed off to Danbury Lakes, which I’ve not been to since last year when I spent my birthday sitting on a bench by the side of the water.
In the rain.
It was one of those birthdays you always thought about as a kid, when you marvelled at how old you would be in the year 2000 (27) so it turned out to be a bit of an anti-climax.
Fortunately it wasn’t raining this time, but it was wet, which is why I slipped and fell on my tripod, polos and hip as I was trying to jump across a stream. I probably looked very stupid. I felt fine at the time, but the further away the car got the more uncomfortable my left foot got, and then it started sticking to the inside of my shoe, so I knew there was a bit of blood involved.
I hobbled back to the car, then limped around Asda, and when I got home I carefully rolled off my sock to find a big round hole in the side of my foot where the skin had been peeled away.
My polos had been crushed into little bits, too.
Lots of fireworks tonight.
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Tax Freedom Day on October 31st, 2004
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