SOMEHOW, our resident domestic jinx is determined that we shall not enjoy any of the season’s cheer.
A second – brand new – set of tree lights has now partially failed and we shall have to return it to our local branch of Focus from which it was bought only on Monday.
I appear to have mislaid the receipt, however, so I just hope I don’t get any grief in exchanging it.
Between that and My Good Lady's dental problem – she lost part of a tooth – and has to get it seen to tomorrow, while I have some blood pressure issues that need addressing on the morrow’s pm.
And now, one of our car’s warning lights tells me that a headlight bulb is on the blink.
It just seems to one thing after another.
I’ve expressed before in these blogs my general sense of the other shoe syndrome that haunts me at this time of year – I’m just waiting for the next disaster to strike.
And I peer around me like a man beset by anxiety – what will it be? Still more health problems? More domestic upset? Some weather-related misfortune?
To be honest I shall not be sorry when this so-called “festive season” is over and we can all get back to a more normal life.
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