Reverie

I told you before about the chair sinking into the earth with me atop. I didn't realise until it had sunk sufficiently that I couldn't get up. There was nothing to grab.

I was pruning seed heads from a clematis about two in the afternoon. Nobody around. Not much chance of anybody coming around.

I decided to be comfortable while I contemplated the problem.There was a nice breeze about me and the sun was shining. The chair continued to sink. Soon it was at ground level and the solution presented itself.

I rolled off and crawled through the dirt to the patio where another chair provided leverage to bring me upright once more.

The ground was moist. I had watered the garden before I placed the plastic chair with the knife like legs in front of the clematis.

Anyway, I did triumph over adversity.But I didn't tell anyone about it for a while. My daughter Heather was quite unimpressed by my imaginative coping skills. She laughed hilariously.

The next time, I was perched on a well-designed gardening bench purchased at Lee Valley Tools. I was weeding with a long handled hoe. A particularly deep rooted weed needed a hard push. It didn't budge. I did.

The bench went backwards and again I was sitting in the dirt, my back resting comfortably against the cedar hedge and gloved hands hanging over the edge of the bench like Scarecrow in the Wizard of Oz.

Heather was on hand . I waited for her to notice my dilemma She wasn't much help. She was laughing too hard .

A couple of weeks ago, the bench was involved again. I was straightening the hose I stood up to handle it. Lowering myself I reached behind for the bench handles. They were not where I expected them to be.

It was evening. I pulled a cushion from a chair and made myself comfortable and contemplated my options . I could wait for Theresa to come home from her class. It was still light .It could be an hour Rain was threatening. .

This time I was on grass. Grass is not as hard as concrete. and not as soft as soil. When knees are arthritic,the degree of hardness is relevant. The chair close by was a spin-around. The potential for my face coming into sudden contact with wrought iron mitigated against that choice.

After gazing at the sky for a bit, I decided to shift. . I positioned my knees on the cushion and waddled to the nearest chair that would stay put under the pressure.

I intended to keep that episode secret. The bruise I couldn't see on my upper arm, gave the game away.

Families have a way of maintaining records of comical events . Intermittent reference frequently involves creative elaboration.

I'm going to be secretive from now on. I won't tell about my Fall at the Hall last night.

Caring hands helped me to my feet.

The Mayor was reading the decision they paid for from the Integrity Commissioner.
'Tis said she muttered sourly

"typical"

What would it take I wonder to engender a smile ?