COUNTING THE DAYS...

Around sixty years ago I was doing my National Service, having been yanked away from `normal` life to surrender myself to 731 days in the army for Queen and country.  There was no choice but to do it and get on with it, which makes me wonder how the snowflakes of today would cope with something as traumatic as that.  (I suspect the age of `social media` would see mass refusal to have anything to do with it?)

Anyway, one thing that kept me on the right side of sanity was to do a demob chart which consisted on 731 numbers written out on assorted sheets of paper so that each day I could cross one off.  The last sheet had about 100 numbers left and they were arranged in ever decreasing circles, eventually to disappear in the centre as my freedom was restored.

These days no such issues, of course, but instead I find that there are events to which I look forward with doubtful enthusiasm and whilst I have no desire to wish my life away there are certain things at this time of the year that I really hope might pass quickly.

In the next few weeks firstly we have the General Election, of which I am already bored witless and I cannot wait for next Thursday to come and go so that all the  sound and fury, the lies, the shouting, the ranting and all  the false dawns and promises are finally done with and life, whoever wins, can attempt at least to recapture a semblance of normality.

Then it`s Christmas and the New Year,  supposedly the `most wonderful time of the year` but as is now so common with other `events` it becomes little more than an excuse for excess.  As Bart Simpson reminded us, Christmas is the time when we remember the true meaning of Santa`s birthday.   It doesn`t help having it at the dog end of the year when the weather is miserable, the days are short and I`m a bit annoyed with God as to why He or She chose 25th December for the virgin birth.  Ah well, at least the kiddies will enjoy the fairy tales at Christmas time.

I guess the good news in all of this is that there are only another fifteen days before the shortest day of the year.  It can`t come soon enough for me and I can then stop counting the days  and consign another countdown to the refuse bin.

So, as it is the season of goodwill, I hope you have a nice day.