Ice-skating

A cold and frosty morning: Tuesday, 8.30 am, on a windy country road. The sparkling silver frost contrasts strikingly against the smooth shiny oil-like blackness of the ice at the side of the road. As the brakes lock on my car and I skid sideways past the large on-coming van that I had originally thought I was destined to hit head-on, a thought occurred to me. "This perilous journey to work has suddenly become far more scary with the onset of the frosty seaso....". My thoughts are interrupted as I land sideways in a bush.

It was only when I reached the office that I realised I was in shock. The fact that I sobbed uncontrollably and was unable to string sentence together, was shaking and feeling ready to throw up, were a bit of a giveaway. I decided to work from home in the afternoon.

When I got home, joy of joys, Dad was there, which meant I was treated to a Daddy cuddle, the likes of which I have not had in far too long. I snuggled into his jumper as he put his arms around me and rested his chin on my head. "When I hit a patch of ice on my motorbike", he told me, "as I was flying through the air, I said to myself 'You'd better land on your left side because if you land on the right all those cars there are going to run you over'. It's amazing how much time you have to think and how time slows down in these situations, isn't it?". Ah, Daddy. James enquired how many times in his life he's had time to ponder such things when flying through the air. "You'd be surprised", said Dad. I suspect, however, we wouldn't!