Is there anyone out there whose life is like a ride on the Orient Express, first class? Hop on, go straight to the dining car when you're handed a glass of chilled Chablis by a bow-tied waiter, sit back and let the train chug gently along the track? If there is, I'd love to hear from you; in particular I'd like to know if it all just comes naturally or if there is something you have to do to achieve this state of ease. Because for me, following the same metaphor, life is more like a ride on one of those little mini locomotives they use for the ghost train: too small for a grown up, lashes from side to side and up and down without warning, winds around and through sometimes hair-raising situations, and if you lean too much one way or the other you'll fall out.
Not that it's a general complaint; mostly, life is a good thing, and I'm more than happy to be living it. It's just that sometimes I wish I could throw a tantrum and have it all my way. Take the drainage. My poor husband, as if he doesn't have enough of a week, had to spend the entire weekend digging the trenches for and then laying drains. What I would have wished for him was lovely, soft loam to simply spade out and then allow gently to fall from his spade as backfill. What he spent the weekend doing was hacking out with a pick the typical MK clay soil, metres and metres of the stuff so that even he was tired (which doesn't happen often). I spent most of the weekend ripping up tangles of weeds and briars that appeared seemingly from nowhere and were in the process of choking our fledgling shrubs and hedging. Why is it that the plants we really want to grow vigorously actually grow at a fraction of the speed the unwanted ones grow at?
Is it the same reason our bodies sprout unwanted hair at a rate inversely proportionate to the amount we're losing from our barnets? Is it simply the universe's way of telling us life sucks sometimes, and just deal with it?
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