I was unceremoniously woken by a clap of thunder. When I looked out of my bedroom window, Storm Miguel was battering my peonies and the rest of the garden, which was shaping up to be our best horticultural endeavour ever.
Whilst on safari, I lost weight fairly quickly and it wasn't just to do with the heat. After enjoying a sundowner watching impala gambol happily in the bush, we would return to camp to find them on the dinner menu, which was just too hard to swallow. The only time I have ever been offered a gin and tonic for breakfast at 5.00a.m. was on safari and it was the only time I have ever refused one, sensibly realising I was getting enough quinine in my anti-malarial tablets.
It was hot and steamy on the makeshift dance floor as I swilled what I thought was a lot of bitter lemon with a little gin, but the bitter lemon disguised a lethal cocktail of various spirits. With my sound system set to max volume, Tina Turner’s Nutbush City Limits began to sound hollow and distant as my surroundings blurred and my speech slurred. I managed to make it upstairs to the bathroom where, kneeling in front of the lavatory, I projectile vomited the fermenting brew inside my stomach.
What was going on in my teenage brain is unfathomable to me now. I was driven by the overwhelming desire to be expelled so I could spend more time with my dog and my horse.The only teacher that had any control over me was my English teacher, but only from the day, he asked us to write a poem. I wrote hundreds, then moved on to short stories which he helped me get published and I became more focused and a little less defiant.
By the time I was twelve, I had been at boarding school for a year and had become a bit of a comedienne. I was the classroom joker, not the brightest thing to be, but I was fuelled by an inner rebellion, which I seemed unable to subdue. So, I took my anger out on the system.
Never lose your heart to an animal. These sagely words of advice were imparted to me a very long time ago and I've ignored them over the years. I've lost my heart and had it broken countless times by the horses, dogs, and cats who have shared my life.
Memories of scooping up deceased rodents in the past are ingrained in my olfactory memory banks. Still in my pyjamas, I retch my way to the field, the final resting place of the victims of my killer cat(s).
I was lucky enough to have known my birth parents, but on and off over the years, I have tried to build my family tree, but there is one branch that consistently fails to bear fruit.
I often wonder how I come across to fellow shoppers when I'm stomping around the supermarket in my super comfy dog-walking loafers and a face like thunder? You cannot escape supermarket shopping, however much you hate doing it. They provide everything we need to keep ourselves alive, although, maybe not the freshly baked doughnuts.... Continue Reading →