Kangaroo Petrol

Sometimes I feel like a learner driver in life, with kangaroo petrol in the tank: I start off, put my foot on the pedal, take a great lurch forward and then nearly come to a halt before lurching off again, going into reverse and then steering into the kerb. What’s worse is that I don’t know what I’ve done to make it happen; I feel like a novice at the wheel who doesn’t understand any of the controls.

It was said at the ordination service that a volunteer is someone who doesn’t understand the question. I think I must be that volunteer. ‘I’ll drive that car!’ I say enthusiastically. ‘I’ll figure it out, don’t worry!’ and six gear crashes and several near misses later I’m still figuring it out. It’s very galling. Still, at least I haven’t written the damn thing off. Yet.

On the health front, I think I’m making progress; I still haven’t had the test results but I discovered that the fatigue might be caused by a vitamin D3 deficiency. This is something produced by the liver from the sunlight you absorb, so it’s not just a question of catching some rays (though a chance would be a fine thing right now.) So I’ve been taking some vitamin tablets and they seem to be helping. Meanwhile we wait and see.

In the tennis yesterday a couple of players slipped and fell. It seems that the grass is quite slippery under the roof; they obviously try very hard to regulate the atmosphere once the roof is on – what with all those bodies breathing and sweating it’d get like a sauna otherwise – but two players have had to retire injured after slipping on the grass, and that is not good, especially as one of them was Serena Williams and the other looked to be putting out Roger Federer.

And so like Centre Court, damp, sweaty and slippery, I nonetheless live to fight another day.

Kirk out

2 thoughts on “Kangaroo Petrol

  1. Since 1997, I have had cars with automatic gearboxes. That solves any kangaroo issues. The only time I have to change gear now is if I have to drive my wife’s car for some reason.
    Best wishes, Pete.

  2. Good, although it was a metaphor; I haven’t suffered with actual kangaroo petrol for a very long time

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