I’ve realised something about myself - I don’t like
hearing the sound of ticking clocks. I think it reminds me that my life is
disappearing rapidly on towards its inevitable conclusion. Hearing a second
hand on a clock move around is like having someone in the corner of the room
going “Your life is ebbing away and you’re wasting it! GET UP! GET OUT! DO
SOMETHING!”
When I was at school, we had regular visits from a
lay preacher who used to do a 15-minute assembly that was normally him
screaming at us about fire and brimstone and God’s wrath. One Friday he did a
long spiel about us being watched from the Heavens while we masturbated. A bit
creepy, really, and makes God sound like a pervert when you think about it.
Another time, for reasons I still don’t understand, he felt the need to lecture
us on personal hygiene. I remember his words clearly – “EARS and ARSE are
important. They should be cleaned every day, and yet most people choose to
ignore them.” Not sure why he was obsessed with those particular body parts,
but as I’ve got older, I’ve realised he’s right on both counts.
Philippa and I are taking the little man for his
first little holiday this coming weekend. Just a few days in a caravan on the
Suffolk coast, but it still counts. We waited til September and it was a third
of the price that it would have been mid-August. No wonder people take their kids out of
school during term time.
RC 16-9-19
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