A Day Off for Passion

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Image by Arty Angel on Pixabay

I have been planning a "day off" for a while now. Today it dawned. 

Clearing my diary of everything except for an Almshouse Trustees' Meeting, I was looking forward to a day of relaxation and recuperation. Spurred on by a knee that is misbehaving this was to be time away from my usual Wednesday dollop of gym, sweat and chat.

Forget the ten mile walk I was lusting over a few weeks back; a fortnight ago instead, I was revelling in my new found ability to balance on my right leg for over a minute when it suddenly wobbled, I was hit with searing pain and it's been erratically unstable ever since. Strapped up, I have continued my daily dose of exercising but decided that today I would try resting.

Isn't it amazing how the rest of the body, if not the knee, responds so well to a mini break. Whereas I would normally rise at 7 am, today I slept until 8.50 am. Legs raised, I have caught up with paperwork and after a quick tidy up of the kitchen, concluded my chores in time for another seated session to watch Prime Minister's Questions.

The body may have felt comatose in lounging position but the mind was quickly catapulted from its placid mode. What has this country done to itself that it is now led by a robotic Prime Minister dancing (no, she has already shown us she can't do that), I mean moving, to the tunes of extreme forces within her party whilst all the time behaving like the head of the Ministry of Truth in "1984"?

With her persistent use of only Newspeak and the concept of doublethink, we have been moved on from "Brexit means Brexit" and "No Deal is better than a Bad Deal." However, today and to all intents and purposes, we still got "My Deal or No Deal." That, of course, is despite our elected Members of Parliament voting against both, including on two occasions against her deal in record numbers. The Speaker has politely pointed out that she would be contravening our constitutional law to bring an unchanged motion back for the House of Commons to vote on, but she ploughs on regardless.

Now it transpires that she has written a rather petulant letter to the President of the European Council seeking only a short extension to the date for exiting the EU to facilitate her deal, when even her Deputy Leader has recently advised the Commons that a short one-off extension would be "downright reckless" and contrary to the rejection by Parliament of a no-deal scenario.

Well, of course, all that got my blood circulating furiously. Fingers crossed it has been pumping its way into the right place in my knee and converting negative Brexitified energy into positive healing. Yes, I'm grasping at straws but the knee issue does need some help and, who knows, as things stand at present this could be the only productive outcome of Brexit.

Interspersed with preparations for this afternoon's meeting, I did some hopping around the garden in the sunshine having understandably shied away from digging in the vegetable plot. I wasn't alone. It seemed that our lawn had been taken over by frogs hopping too, whilst amorous toads had assumed control of the path leading to the back door. Passions are clearly rising everywhere.

Of course you should always be able to rely on a formal meeting to restore composure to the day but that takes no account of the need to listen to the car radio during the journey. Catching Tusk's response to the request for an extension, it would appear the stakes have been lifted in some kind of international Poker game. As the commentators mooted the proposition that this made a no deal more likely, the discussion by the time I rejoined it on my homeward leg had moved onto stockpiling in readiness with particular reference to toilet paper. Now that ought to have given rise to scope for all kinds of lavatory humour, but the blood was once again too busy raging.

Back at home I am now contemplating a comfortable seat in front of the News Channel. Will I be able to bear watching the Prime Minister make an announcement at 8pm? More importantly do I watch with, or without, an ice-pack on my knee?


Comments

Doug said…
I think our Brexit thoughts are similar and we have amorous frogs in our garden. Much less frogspawn floating in the pond this year, perhaps there is a Brexit connection?
23 March 2019 at 12:45
Caree Risover said…
Looks like we must have a nation united with its garden reptiles and (would wish) dislike of Brexit or maybe there are just the two of us.
24 March 2019 at 21:12
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