IF IT CAN GO WRONG

Today was one of those dreadful days when everything goes wrong at once.

The morning was set to be troublesome, Pa's visit to the dentist yesterday and the removal of four of his teeth left him in a good deal of pain and with a face like a football. He and as a consequence I too had a disturbed night. I left poor Pa asleep at last when I went downstairs to prepare my son's breakfast at seven thirty. If I'd had the least idea just how much aggravation lay ahead I should have remained safely in bed for the day.

Our cat Moth had been sick in every one of the downstairs rooms…..several times and both of the stoves had gone out. Poor little Moth had been sick the previous evening but had appeared quite recovered by bed time and we had retired untroubled.

Came the dawn!

While going from room to room clearing up the mess I was disturbed first by the Postman, next by a Courier and finally by Sainsburys who arrived with our groceries earlier than expected.

While my son lit the fires in the drawing room and the library I called our local Vet for advice.

Usually our Vet comes to the house in emergencies, today however he was understaffed and unable to leave the surgery. I made an appointment and booked a taxi, while longing for the days when Pa and I were fit to drive and cursing my son for never having learned!

Pa surfaced at twelve and it was as we were having an early lunch that the phone began to ring.

The chap who had been booked to fix the leaky conservatory roof on Wednesday and who failed to arrive called to say that he was on his way….bugger!

This meant that I would be unable to take the cat to the vet and that my son, who must have his novel finished by Sunday would be obliged to stop work and take her himself.

The taxi had barely left when the conservatory man arrived and having taken a brief look at the problem spent the next hour and a half hammering and banging on the roof in a manner so alarming that I feared that the glass would break.

Another telephone call from an obscure N.H.S. department enquiring as to the delivery of Pa's medication threw me into a panic. Apparently afraid that I might be a drug pusher they refused to confirm delivery without first speaking to him in person. Pa was at the Vet with my son. Since this medication is vital I was seriously concerned at this turn of events.

They agreed to call back (reluctantly its being P.O.E.T.S. Day) and relieved I returned to the conservatory the floor of which was now littered with dead spiders and bits of paint.

“A loose pane, infiltrating ivy, and a blocked gutter were the cause of the trouble” He said.

Quite how the remedying of these defects had warranted all the hammering remains a mystery.

I had heard nothing from my son and my concern for the cat was growing by the minute, the gardener arrived unexpectedly to mow the lawn. Recent heavy rain had left the ground sodden and I had misgivings, but what the hell, either he mowed today of it would be two weeks before he returned by which time we would require a baler...he mowed.

His departure was followed by the Avon lady and since I had not completed my order I scrabbled about for a pen and placed an order for God knows what, knowing my luck It will turn out to be some grotty perfume of awful aftershave!

At last the boys returned wit the cat who apparently had worms, thanking the Gods that it was nothing worse I spent the next hour cuddling the little mite and crying on and off.

Next I took a fall, fell on my already; painful wrist and am now in absolute agony and typing with my left hand only.

I mean now to have a large Scotch and a dose of Morphine, I would say goodnight, but it will probably be anything but.