Mind The Gap

 

Hm. I see there’s been a bit of a gap since I last posted anything here. Things get in the way: bumps, dips, gaps. Gaps you can tumble into. Like Jonah tumbled into, a great whale’s mouth;  and that was Jonah gone for a while.

Best to mind the gap.

 

There always is one. A gap that is.  You think you are going along nice and easy, doing this and doing that, clicketty click, clicketty clack, like my aunt Ida’s knitting needles. They rattled so fast it was like watching a cartoon; and the jumper she was knitting for me grew and grew and by the time she’d finished it was down to my knees, and with so much wool in it it had the weight of three sheep at least.

And wouldn’t that make me a sheep too? Not so much a jumper, more a bleater: ‘Four legs good; two legs bad’.

Whoops!

That little bit about the knitting and turning into a sheep, I’ve a feeling there was a gap there. Some little bit of something that I jumped over.

It’s a different story if you happen to be waiting for a train and you look down and there’s that thin slice of darkness below the platform down by the wheels and the rails.

Make sure you jump that gap.

My advice? Jump them all, every last gap that comes along. Be a jumper. Not like the one my aunt knitted but light on your feet, limber as an acrobat, so you  can swing, or sail or skip over every kind of obstacle that life plonks in your way. That’s it, be  a skipper and skip over it all.

Or maybe be that other kind of skipper and dance across the sea with a soft sweet breeze filling your sails.

Just don’t go to sea in a sieve!