Pear-shaped. Or if we’re being festive, partridge-in-a-pear-tree-shaped.
It’s only day three of my Christmas kindness blogging challenge, and already things aren’t quite going to plan. I am aware that being considerate shouldn’t have to be considered. But consciously acting kindly requires a certain amount of preparation when you’re attempting to write about it the very same day. This is hardly as romantically spontaneous as the rom-com random acts of kindness which lead boy to meet girl and live happily ever after, but the intention is genuine.
Anyway, my initial idea for today was to be a “selfless” road user. I was going to drive to my Grandpa Joe’s and bring him to our house for a Sunday roast, putting all the other drivers and pedestrians first as I went. Fool proof. On the whole, I would say I’m a responsible and considerate driver, letting the odd car out in front of me, etc. It’s the least I can do, because when it comes to manoeuvring, I fully rely on the patience and/or assistance of everyone in the vicinity to get me through the ordeal (see post-script for irrelevant anecdote).
So, I buckled up, hit the road, and… nothing. There was not a single chance to show consideration towards another driver, pedestrian, cyclist, horse-rider, bobsled team, you name it. On the way back, my 89-year-old grandfather’s rants on housing estates, window cleaning and the time when Waitrose ran out of Ferrero Rochers were so difficult to follow that, forget giving way unnecessarily, I could have run 10 red lights for all I know!
So, my highway mission aborted, I opted for something accessible from home that was within my control and bank balance-friendly. A self-confessed YouTube addict, I have been subscribed to various vlogging channels for a number of years, yet I have never taken the time to show the creators my appreciation. In this age where trolling and cyber-bullying are as rife as salt in the sea, I decided to share some virtual love by actually commenting on their videos with some honest, positive feedback.
Will my words ever be read? Maybe not, but they’ll never be unwritten.
P.S. It was beautifully sunny this New Year’s day, so I had driven to our local woodland park to start the year with a lovely and crisp walk. I pulled into one of the car parks which I soon realised was absolutely packed, so tried to turn around, but fearing either bumping a car or falling into a ditch, I was stuck. A kind gentleman spent about 10 minutes of his time guiding me through the 101 point turn needed to get myself out of the car park. I was so embarrassed that I drove straight home without having so much as sniffed the fresh air.