Saturday, 20 August 2011

Encroaching old age.

The world turns and we turn with it but today is an intimation of mortality.
Before I married David the second I lived in a house which had a fairly steep drive. In the first week of living there the man who was painting it's outside watched me one morning as I carried my dustbin up the drive for collection.
The next day he produced a wheely bin.. explaining that it would be on my bill along with the paint when he'd finished.
I was grateful. I had puffed and panted up the slope The new bin still had to be pushed up it but it was easier than carrying one.
When I got married and moved house I asked David why we didn't have a wheely bin.
We didn't need one...he preferred to carry the rubbish out. That was fine, we are not up a hill and anyway carrying or pushing bins was now his job.
So this morning he announced that he was going into Truro.
I wondered what he'd shot off for? Images of flowers, new sandals, a haircut?
He came into the house saying Truro was very quiet, everyone was on the roads!
Then he produced a new wheely bin like a rabbit from a hat, previous conversation not mentioned.
"It's going to be much easier" he said..
Anno Domini approaches.

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  1. Anno Domini not at all. It is simply a question of saving energy for the things that really need it.
    Well, that's my story anyway!

  2. We have two wheelie bins, which live in the back garden and have to be wheeled out, down two alleyways to the front of the house for collections. One at a time is no problem, two together is exciting. Running with two in tow, is even more exciting. I can confirm that they are more stable when full.

    Of course, this is my denial of anno domini and I'll keep on doing it as it might be the only exercise I get that day.

    Now, my spouse is more sensible, and takes one at a time at a sedate pace around the front or returns them the same way. She says it's about dignity? I say it's anno domini.

    Anyone got anything for a sore ear?