Today I went for a walk and found myself in a bit of a bind. The sunshine was brilliant. Unfortantely so brilliant my damaged retinas couldn’t cope. This combined with ice on the tarmac and my hangover (pub last night for National Novel Writing people's party) and transformed a simple stroll into an extreme sport. I had however got to a point where I couldn’t turn back…..ice and blindness equidistant either way. It became rather nerve wracking and I had to get out my cane and kind of punt myself along or cling to the railing by the riverside. A couple of times people passing very thoughtfully pointed out that it was ‘slippery as glass’ before skidding away and a dashing jogger (dashing in the Jane Austen sense as opposed to the commuter sense) paused to pant heavily and discuss his bleeding knee. He sweetly presented it to me like a ten year old. I would have got out my scars too for more bonding but was too busy trying to keep upright.
It is a strange feeling to know you have no way around something dangerous but will have to just soldeir on through. It happens to me quite a bit and it is always a weight that I feel, almost a sadness, not exhileration. The weight is a like iron though and ultimately becomes the strength I need to get home.
Blast..I should have got the jogger's number... ho hum.