No Rhyme; No Reason; 80th; Grand Parents’ Season.

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Dear friends, I really think
that it has reached high time
I stopped subjecting all of you
to Really Awful Rhyme,
But so my latest doings, now,
that everyone still knows,
I will present them in the form
of Truly Ghastly Prose!

Today it was a matter of getting up early for Grandparents’ Day at Junior Primary. Not early enough, unfortunately. By the time we got there, only ten minutes late, J and her class, as well as the rest, had already delivered their rhymes. Oh well, we then repaired to one of the fields for a picnic. We had taken our fold-up table and seats in preparation, so sat in state while ordinary mortals were subjected to a state of grovelling on the grass.
Having fully fed our faces, it was off to KZNSA for an 80th birthday party for the Past President of Durban and Coast Horticultural Society of many years. More eats and drinks were guzzled.
I left solo from this entertainment to go for the next medical appointment, but was on my way when I realised that I had failed to consult my diary in the morning as to what was next, so didn’t have a clue. I had an idea it was at Parklands Hospital again, so went in that direction, but took an unfamiliar route and got lost. By the time I found myself again I was in a tizzy.
I came to the conclusion that it had to be for a drip at the Oncologist, but they said no, that was next week. At that, my brain switched off. They helpfully phoned all the doctors I could think of to no avail, so I tried to phone Much Better Half and her sister, to whose home she and J had now gone. Answering service every time.
Finally, she did ring back and reminded me that what I had set off to attend was the eighth of my ten daily radio treatments. How on earth had that gone from my mind? Apparently some woolly-headedness (without beanie) is typical of the treatments. I do hope that’s all it is, and that I am not going ga-ga.
Not much time remained for me at home before I had to take J to her swimming lesson again. Before it, she put in some really good keyboard practice. One piece truly nailed from memory.
I must have recovered my faculties, because I was able to correct MBH on dodgy maths advice given to R just before I left.
J swam extremely well.
The latest two generations of ferals are bonding, as may be seen. Isn’t that cute?

© August 2019 Colonialist

About colonialist

Active septic geranium who plays with words writing fantasy novels and professionally editing, with notes writing classical music, and with riding a mountain bike, horses and dinghies. Recently Indie Publishing has been added to this list.
This entry was posted in Africa, Grandchildren, Humorous rhyme, Personal Journal, Really Awful Rhyme and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

23 Responses to No Rhyme; No Reason; 80th; Grand Parents’ Season.

  1. Debra says:

    I’ve said for years that I can be in two places at once, but it’s trying to fit in the third that gives me trouble. You have a LOT going on right now, and I think you’re doing well to even try to keep up! And you get a big gold star as a stellar grandparent!


  2. Widdershins says:

    Very wise to blame such lapses on the treatments. 🙂 … hope you eventually got there in time.


  3. All’s well that ends well. Reminds me of when I turned up at the wrong church to play for a wedding. 😯


  4. All the best with your treatment. My mom didn’t have this but she had chemo and herceptin for 19 months. I enjoyed your poem and your update.


  5. Met die frenetiese tempo waarteen jy leef, is dit g’n wonder dat jy self soms nie kan byhou nie!


  6. elspethc says:

    Life goes on, with or without rhyme and reason. Keep us smiling.


  7. equinoxio21 says:

    8th out of 10? Good. Hang on Col.


  8. SueW says:

    Another very busy day Les. Love the Feline pictures, yes they are very cute!


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