Unintentional Poet

The fridge salad drawer is an ingenious invention. It is unlike the door slots, where things are liable to leap out, if overloaded. It's sturdier than the shelves, which, when balanced too precariously, launch cheese-blocks or chutney jars at my unsuspecting toes.  On the contrary, the salad drawer is like the Tardis of the fridge, offering respite to rushed souls.  Running short of time? Open and throw in, at any angle or velocity!  Space an issue?  Just press a little harder - it will all go in somehow! Sometimes, though, this apparently time and space-saving approach becomes problematic.  After particularly hectic periods with work and family life there is no more ramming, throwing or squashing space and a horrible realisation dawns: the drawer must be dealt with!  Holding my breath, I begin to delve, attempting to identify the items that are far past their best.  Embarrassing though it is to admit, I have lunged across the kitchen to the bin w...

This weekend my son competed in his first Swimming Club Championship Gala.  Last minute advice issued, my stomach churned as he mounted the starting blocks for the Under 9s fifty metres breaststroke. Fifty-eight seconds later, he had stormed to victory in his heat; we later discovered he had taken the trophy for the overall Under 9s event.  Riding high on this victory, he headed for the backstroke.  This time he trailed behind his competitors and, slightly misjudging the finish, found himself disqualified for turning onto his front before he reached the end. Once he had recovered from the disappointment (with the help of a Double Decker), we reflected on the lessons learned that extended far beyond swimming to all of life.  Although disqualification was a huge disappointment, it was a lesson learned.  He could let it beat him and give up – or shrug it off and learn from it.  We regaled our own experiences of disqualification from sporting events to make him...