Life is not fair

When the Gods wish to have sport they can be exceeding cruel.

On my way back from yesterdays blip I was diverted by an overturned lorry. Since I was driving my better half's pride and joy I had the benefit of Sat Nav. Not that I need it as an adjunct to my impeccable navigational ability you understand, but I often put it on on solitary journeys just to have someone to argue with. The boys have christened her Repeating Rebecca (the sat nav voice, not the lady I married)

She was as usual trying to lead me astray. Having reversed out of the third farmyard and passed the cemetery four times she sent me to the heart of a small village, up streets that the slimmest ass or daintiest donkey would not fit into. After a little while the inevitable happened, whilst trying to avoid a jutting boulder embedded in the pavement to my left a screeching of metal told me that a wall had leapt out and clawed its way from front to rear on my passenger side.

The noise was horrendous and it was difficult to drive on nonchalantly whilst the offside mirror was waving cheerfully to the girning onlookers as it dangled from its wires.

Luckily the car was drivable, the damage which I inspected in a secluded lay-by merely cosmetic, I am sure that is how Anna will view it, I thought , yeah right!

I parked in shadow, having made sure that dusk had fallen before I arrived home, at least seeking the shelter of the night before bravely confessing. As anticipated the concern for my welfare lasted all of five seconds before the furies descended.

I am confident the dog house will become increasingly commodious with familiarity, and I now realise what motivates people to run away to sea. Anyone have a berth for a slightly aging cabin boy? Or a chauffeur ? Go on, I can drive, gi's a job.