Feel The Need

Those of you regularly following the blog are of course aware of the answer to the second question. Once again.... Caught out for doing something without permission. From the look on my mother's face I  guess it was a good thing I was in a hospital already (just kidding). However there was no doubt that she had lost a good preserving jar. One of the large ones too. In our family the use of such jars were fairly crucial to the winter food supply. Not in any extreme mountain winter survival way, but generally in having options when it came to the range of foodstuffs available to our somewhat limited palate and purchasing options during the non-bounteous months. The preserves of summer peaches for a winter pudding or pickled onions for the delightful crunchy treat. Or, as mentioned the various jams we were provided throughout the winter months. We couldn't have done without the preserving jars that were recycled each year. Now we were one short. Thanks to me.

In the meantime my patients property bag was closed up and the top folded over and taped closed, securely, by the attending nurse. Others were laughing a little, which did nothing for my mothers dislike of public embarrassment. I have already mentioned this was one of her great dislikes (see blog ............). once again I had successfully created the situation again. This time, completely unintentionally. That still wouldn't stop her comments, once I was away from the hospital. I am sure I would hear all about it again. The event would have to be relayed to the other family members. For me, it was the nurses reaction that was the important part. No doubt my mother's version would focus more on the smashed preserving jar. See what I was referring to about witnesses (see blog 10th December 2012), they all view events with their perspective in mind.

With the outer bag well and truly sealed, any spiders currently climbing around inside my school bag or inside the paper bag were well and truly trapped inside, with the broken glass and all. I was in no position to argue about their containment and felt my school presentation was gone, crushed, finished. The great and terrifying, girl scaring, boy pleasing, school talk was a wash out. I would have to focus on something else. Then it occurred to me. Was I badly disfigured? Did I have an awesome scar from the crash. That might work in my favour. While a bicycle crash may not be the most glamorous of incidents, the fact it was a hit and run added a certain 'mystic' to the event, and, if I was left with any impressive injuries...(nothing too horrifying of course, just romantically dashing). The door to school social recognition and peers acceptance was opening a crack. I tried to see my mother through my partially opened eye. "Mum." I croaked sympathetically. She leaned in towards me. "Yes?" She enquired. I tried to muster a brave and sympathetic response from her. "Am I badly........... scarred?"
(Continued tomorrow)