For the last two years I’ve joined in the #atozchallenge, namely to post every weekday in April using each letter of the alphabet in turn. In 2015 it was places I’d been to, in 2016 it was London themed. This year it is a dictionary of my family, recounting incidents small and large that have taught me lessons down the years, caused me consternation or generally seared themselves into my memory. I hope you enjoy them. To find other bloggers doing the challenge and maybe be inspired yourself, check out the A to Z Blogging Challenge Blog, here.
I have been described as clumsy, heavy-handed and a klutz and it is true I have laid waste to a significant number of ornaments, furniture, structural elements of real estate and a variety of transportation. This song, by Jake Thackerey was played at me at University as a warning.
However down the years I have done as much damage to myself as to other things, animate and inanimate. Indeed at one point aged about 9 the doctor warned my mother to try and keep me safe as he worried about the number of X-rays I had had in the previous 6 months. I’ve already mentioned here the milk bottle with which I perforated my bottom and the needle from the Archaeologist’s experiments with sound that ended in my heel necessitating an operation. I had conkers exploding into my right eye, a thumb dislocated playing stuck in the mud, a lacerated foreskin cause by an over vigorous closing of my fly, my brother crushing my head between his rear and the path way when we timed our synchronised descent from an oak tree to a tee and a face plant from my bike when I lost control downhill with what my dad told me was wheel-wobble.
But the one I want to share today is this…
Mrs Greening in year 4 taught us Scottish Country dancing. Having had to suffer years of Music and Movement when vigorous little bodies were expected to imitate a petal falling in Autumn when their repertoire comprised solely an ICBM hurtling towards Moscow it was a pleasant change. Some may remember Joyce Grenfell’s fabulous version which is so close to the truth…
Well Scottish dancing was fine until I ricked my neck performing a rather epic Stripping of the Willow. Boy do I remember that. The pain was awful, every movement sending shots of fire across my shoulder and down my side. The treatment was manipulation followed by a deep heat burning of the affected area courtesy of an enormous infra red lamp. It was bloody medieval, people. However the worst bit was mum. She accompanied, as you’d expect a caring parent to do. She could see my distress and brought along a Famous Five book to read to me as distraction. So far so marvellous. Save while this mini solar lamp did its magic I was strapped into a stretching machine. Literally a strap was placed under my jaw and another round my ankles, I lay on a bed and the ratchets were applied to keep my tortured neck straight. For 5 minutes mum set the scene with George and Tim and Anne and the rest and then she dropped off to sleep. Could I wake her? With my jaw strapped and my feet tied? Hardly. I lay there, for an hour with nothing to focus on but my neck while mum caught up with several consecutive sets of 40 winks.
I learnt a lesson that day; however loving a parent, sleep will take precedence if given the chance. Now, a parent myself, I understand why…
TanGental 
Thanks for the morning chuckle and smiles. Enjoyed the stories
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Hope it brought back memories too!!
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OMG I remember Music and Movement in primary school… wasn’t it broadcast to schools over the radio or something like that? 🙂
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Yes that’s right!! One of those big wooden box speakers
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Oh lordy!!!
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That was brilliant, very funny. Got to hand it to you: my klutziness usually only results in minor breakages! Having said that, my most recent effort at a ceilidh ended with me skidding, pulling my partner along a slippery floor and demolishing the drum kit, whilst the drummer was left sitting there holding his sticks! I have also tobogganed down the stairs on a duvet from upstairs to downstairs in my current house and have fallen out of the loft but managed to clutch onto the opening on the way down resulting in the unfortunate kicking of the ladder down the stairs, but none of these things have produced more than a scratch or bruise. Hopefully I will remain tough for a long time to come. I could not believe it when I read you have had a HUNDRED stitches! Must be some kind of record. Can you remember all the mishaps? Looking forward to seeing what Z produces.
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Well it’s noticeable they put in more these days. I cut an eyebrow and they put in 15 where the cut on the butt 25 before which was five times as long had 6 stitches
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It sounds like they weren’t expecting your butt to make a public appearance and gave you to the rookie or the vet.
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Scottish dancing…. thank God it was not it’s Gaelic cousin Irish Dancing ! zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
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I might not have survived
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God forbid!!
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I hadn’t heard of the song or singer who was played AT you by your alarmed friends – did it work? Love Joyce Grenfell, such an acute observer of the human condition and its inanities – I must listen to her more often! Glad you survived that horrendous accident – and your childhood really 🙂
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Yep still bouncing off the floor. I find that if I think of it more like I’m attacking the ground rather than falling over it doesn’t hurt less but my ego is unbruised
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😀 I must remember that next time I go upside down!
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You would’ve been medicated to the hilt these days and wrapped in so much bubble wrap that suffocation would’ve resulted. I am also accident prone and when our caricature recently got jammed in the laminator at the show, I felt I should’ve apologized to the poor artist. Even though I didn’t touch the machine, it must’ve been my aura that did it.
I remember something like Joyce Grenfell at school. It’s a very distant possible memory. Perhaps, she put out a record.
One last day of A-Z…I can’t believe how much I’ve learned about Tasmania and Geoff’s family through this series. As usual, it’s been intense but very rewarding.
I must say that I missed the list this year and barely saw many other blogs. I’ve also had time restraints with the kids being on school holidays and driving Miss off to Dance Camp a couple of hours away.
All the best for tomorrow!
xx Ro
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Yes the lack of a linkie while understanding is a shame. I pick u some lovely blogs that way.
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It’s a wonder you are still standing 🙂
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I loved that piece by Joyce Grenfell, her voice just gave it that edge as far as immagining the scene goes!
Despite me also being clumsy, thankfully, I didn’t end up hurting myself as much as you did. That solar lamp and stretching contraption combo sounds horrific. like some sort of Medieval torture instrument!
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happily I think the NHS has moved on … maybe it was Shipman training…
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Every family had its emergency room child, but you ended up in a medieval dungeon on the rack!
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I suppose I might be a little taller as a result
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That’s a bonus!
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