Coming Home to Roost

Earlier in the week I knocked over a box of medallions, and was most displeased. IT was clearly my fault as it was me who knocked them over, but I couldn’t help thinking at the time that if I’d been allowed to organise the storage space things would be a lot better. When you have run the chaos that relates to spare parts on farms, you tend to develop a skill for stacking and storing.

I had to pick up around 20 medallions, and as I did so, I put them in order and made a safer space for them. Today we sold one and I found it easily. However, I then noticed it should have a certificate with it. There wasn’t one. I checked and double-checked, then checked the rest of the box and another box that held similar medallions. Eventually, having exhausted all possibilities, I checked the floor again. It seems that I had been too hasty in my previous clearance, as several more medallions and certificates appeared, having dropped into a storage box on the floor and lodged in gaps between the stored items.

Two Puffins

Again, nobody’s fault but mine, as I should have checked more thoroughly. Definitely a case of “more haste, less speed”, though, as before, I couldn’t help thinking it would be nice if we had things organised so that we didn’t have to work in the middle of a pile of boxes.

When I get a minute I will sort it all out. At the same time I will discover perpetual motion, cure covid, and organise world peace.

And as my pigs fly off into the sunset, I will reflect on the impossibility of ever becoming organised and turn

my mind to things which are more possible, like submitting eight sets of poetry in the next five days and losing weight . . .

I thought of using chickens in photos to match with coming home to roost, but I ended up with puffins.

Puffin at Bempton

16 thoughts on “Coming Home to Roost

      1. quercuscommunity Post author

        That should be “floor bound”. I really must become more accurate. I always imagine you being more agile than me. 🙂 And more debonair, of course.

    1. quercuscommunity Post author

      This is one of the foundations of our marriage – ever since we walked for hours across St Abbs head to find puffins. They were half a mile from a car park that wasn’t marked on the map! Pah!

      Reply
    1. quercuscommunity Post author

      I saw one recently. Maybe I will compose a bittersweet poem on the theme of procrastination and a life frittered away. Or I may just write a limerick involving the town of Nantucket . . .

      Reply
    1. quercuscommunity Post author

      Kittens, puffins and lambs always used to gain me extra Twitter views. In my experience efficient organisation is best left to others. In the long run it saves worry. 🙂

      Reply

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