I had ideas that I’d be one of those confident airy people out for the early morning run on New Year’s day – not too early though, otherwise nobody would see you!
But I didn’t do that. On New Year’s morning I was in my dressing gown till at least lunchtime, making my way through an overlooked Terry’s Chocolate Orange.
The new year seemed to be starting quietly and without incident – just how I like it. And then, things went a bit topsy-turvy.
A couple of nights before I turned 40 (yes the four-oh!) we were driving home on the A737. Quite suddenly an adult male deer bolted across the path of our car and I hit him hard and ugly.
It took me a minute or so to notice the blood on the windscreen.
Later, the car was quietly towed away. One dead deer. One dead car. Three lucky people.
A week on, and it looks like we won’t have a car for a while or so. At first I was proper annoyed as it dawned on me all the things that are now much more complicated by not having one!
I realise now, the car is not fucking important. Not at all.