The above is plastered - in a prominent place – on a wall in my study. It was designed to keep up British morale on the eve of the second world war; and has the royal sign of approval – a crown – courtesy of King George VI. Apparently the well intentioned poster didn’t make much of a public appearance at the time; the original rediscovered about ten years ago. And not a minute too soon – for my purposes.
Though, as the TV advert says: “Lose control and flap about” . That’s why I adore a real crisis. I keep calm and carry on. Give me an average day and I lose control and flop about. Those are the days I make lists. I love lists. They satisfy my hankering after that most futile order, my dormant penchant for perfectionism; they nurture my hope that I’ll still be around tomorrow. After all, you wouldn’t want to leave behind a list as yet to be ticked off, would you?
Considering my backlog I shall have to live till I am overripe. Like one of those apples you find on the ground in autumn, having fallen off the tree some time ago, pecked by birds and in advance state of fermentation making bees bumble about in drunken stupor.