When it might take a cripple to catch the tortoise

This is why I like extreme conscious writing, I mean, I have been so busy that I haven’t been able to write Friday Light as so much was happening. Which was a shame, as you wouldn’t believe what has been happening to me! Well, many hardened Friday Lighters would! Well firstly I hate to say that my knee has not really healed up after the operation, I naively dreamed of running in an untouched Swedish forest again that I promised myself I would do after a confident pre-operation chat by the surgeon. But sadly I went for an operation and in effect was crippled (temporarily I hope and trust). But I was far better off before it, bad hey!

But let’s get down to the important things. Forget about a father of five being crippled. A bad knee makes finding my son’s baby pet tortoise that escaped somewhere into our large overgrown garden (because I can’t garden anymore), almost impossible. Yes worse than my train running over an illegal immigrant in the Eurotunnel going out to Belgium yesterday. I declare and shout the desperate family decree we have lost the family baby tortoise! And if we don’t find her by the weekend the kids will cry for a week and she will die, as she is too small to hibernate outside.

But the Eurotunnel train did suddenly stop yesterday, the lights blacked out, the pressure dropped and I stayed there for 1 hour in my car while the train crew came up with lame excuses as to why we where sitting there in our cars without electricity in the dark under the English channel. But even on the way back too from Belgium, we were waiting another hour with a new delay. Something is happening isn’t it? The cultural shape of the planet is changing.

So how does a man engage in the grand ‘tortoise rescue’ with a bad left leg and lift logs, stones, clear away weeds and cut back brambles and be his son’s hero. The one that says ‘don’t cry son we will find your tortoise’. A man that knows that he can’t even flippin’ bend down to tie his shoelaces?

Well it wasn’t until I realised that there was a sleepover party at our house with 5 rather excitable (laughing at anything types) who are coming for a sleepover tomorrow (mum and dad bought in some new wine supplies). Ahaa and since I had just been to the world’s largest chocolate factory (in Belgium) while running over immigrants yesterday, I also had a car full of chocolates! Dad’s master plan was brewing nicely.

So the kid’s sleepover party changes to a HUNT THE TORTOISE PARTAAAY. Bingo! Angus you are so brilliant, I say to myself smugly. And the prize for finding Belle the tortoise is, yes, a weeks supply of chocolate! The screaming giggling girls are put to magnificent use. She was a cute pet too you know, and if only our misguided little sausage dog had even a mildly adequate brain she could sniff it out and join in the hunt, but sadly our dog is far too stupid to engage in anything mildly useful.

Well the weekend is sorted. Saturday in Kent is predicted as sunny too, hooray! I am a cripple, who cares! People are dying under trains, but our tortoise has gone. And what in life is important? The people that show us what is of course! And with this Friday Light delivery today I am greatly encouraged that you will continue to tune in to my pointless things I perhaps wrongly feel important.

There are reasons for everything though I mean perhaps then it takes a cripple to catch tortoise!

Yours logically


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