A letter from Attenborough
Steve is told by Nurse Humble that his pan-species list is full of string |
I have settled into the Attenborough Home for Confused Naturalists as well as can be expected. I am in a room with two other patients - both, not surprisingly, middle-aged men. Colin is a steam railway enthusiast who recites the Settle to Cumbria 'Fells Rocket' timetable from 1955 incessantly. Last night, Sister Humble caught him with a piece of 00 gauge model railway track that he had hidden in his pyjama bottoms and this caused quite a rumpus. Colin was dragged away by two porters and we haven't seen him since. The other chap is a science fiction geek who says that his name is 'Quark, Lord of the Sith' although I know that he is really called Reginald and is an accountant from Reigate. Together we muddle through the day, being read to by doctors from a B&Q catalogue.
I realised that I had a problem when I was served supper. I tried to convince myself that the lamb chop, cabbage and potato before me were three additional species for my pan-species list, and became agitated when I couldn't decide if the gravy was, in fact, tickable. After a soothing injection I was placed in a chair facing a poster of that nice Monty Don from Gardener's World.
This morning I attended my first 'reasignment' module. I was taken into a room where there was a strange metal vehicle that Doctor Masters called a 'supermarket shopping trolley'. I was taught how to control it, how to place items within it and also how to converse with the other people that I would find sharing the same habitat as the trolley.
I was woken in the night with Nurse Humble attacking something on the floor by my bed with a rolled up newspaper. Within seconds two doctors had joined her, and they gathered something up in a tissue, all looking my way with worried looks on their faces. I thought that I heard someone mutter something about "it being lucky that he hadn't seen it", but in this pleasantly fuggy state I find myself in, I'm not sure what they meant. That's all for now, I have to go now to find out what a wife really is and what a wife expects from her husband. I seem to distantly remember that I have one...
Comments
This pan listing (which is an appropriate title as you do it at Beddington Sewage Farm) has obviously pushed you over the edge!
Graham - I went over the edge long ago...