Self indulgence. Now and Then: Memoirs of a Sort.

Lambrusco was ill. The vet came, gave her a hooficure as in manicure, sprayed blue stuff on and gave her an injection of pain relief and penicillin.  I needed to have her in a pen, because of all the rain our only pen was a paddy field, so I asked her if she wanted to go into the woodshed.  Initially she said "not blaaaaaahhhdy likely" but after having shown some resistance she decided her hoof was tooo sore to run away.  For once I could run faster than her.  So she turned and together we walked amicably to the woodshed, she loped in and just lay down.  Life was tough and painful.  I was actually quite worried.    It reminded me of when I was 6 years old and I had no desire at all to be away from home and not seeing Mum and Dad for several months as boarding school loomed.  I ran away, screamed and shouted and kicked as violently as I could.  I was picked up, pushed in the car, the door slammed and locked firmly behind me.  The sim...

The Women's World Cup.  I was totally immersed. At the height of my enthusiasm and enjoyment of football Dad gave me a t-shirt for a christmas present, with a quote on it by Camus.  I put it on with gratitude to my Dad, with a big smile of agreement and appreciated his thoughtful gift. I was happy and proud with my christmas present.  Within minutes my joy was deflated quicker than our punctured wheel barrow tyre, when a thoughtful family attendee kindly observed by saying "there is nothing good about football".  I was kind of taken aback, had the smile wiped off my face and I took it off.  I haven't put it on since. I had so many good times with my Wigan football friends following a more than mediocre football team around the country.  The fun, the craic, the banter and the silly comments were all created by the catalyst of football.       Goal shoot for which I won a jar of 'Uncle Joe's Mint Balls' and a signed shirt!  Andre Mariner, r...