Purveyor of Bollocks to the Crowned Heads of Europe
Saturday, 3 September 2016
Thinking the unthinkable
Ahoy there! Welcome on board!
I don't very often wake up with a slight feeling of dread, but this morning my head was full of anxiety about whether or not I have made something as safe as it could be, and I am running and re-running a series of 'worst case scenarios' in my imagination which involve all components of a recently built structure failing at once.
My reason tells me that this is highly unlikely, but if even the smallest fragment of doubt remains, then that is enough to ruin my weekend. I usually operate on the belt and braces principle, but I settled for belt only in this case. Oh well, I will go back on Monday and stare at it until I come up with the right conclusion. Staring at photos only makes things worse - contrary to popular myth, the camera lies, and lies often.
The first thing I saw from the kitchen window was a Peregrine Falcon, flying low overhead with what looked like a Blackbird in its talons. In my current anxious state of mind, this image took on an aspect of grim portent, and I fought hard to bring reason back into the picture.
I just looked out of the other window, and saw the father of a young friend (or ex-friend - she has been helping to spread malicious rumours about me) walking along with a large flag tied to his back, advertising a local market. This is a step up from his previous job, which was walking along carrying a large wooden placard advertising the same market.
I admire him and what he does. What he does best is to ignore the embarrassment he causes to his children by not working as the accountant he is qualified to be, earning just enough money to keep going without any of the mental stress that I am experiencing right now, but - sadly - not quite enough to be able to eat as well as pay council tax bills.
I thought I had organised a reasonably stress-free existence, but then the words of the foreman on the job of yesterday came back to me when I questioned whether or not a certain procedure was necessary.
"Whatever you think best, Tom."
It is what is known as covering one's arse in front of witnesses.