Yesterday I moved a bin of linseed from one bin to another. This morning I feel ninety-nine years old. There was a time when I’d not notice the physical work and merrily rush from bin to bin singing as I went. Yesterday I hardly had the strength to climb the ladder out of the bin, let alone sing ye olde farm shanty…

I’m not Eighteen any more,
I shovelled a bin of linseed and I’m sore,
The emptier the bin,
the worse a state ‘twas in,
I’m ready for the knacker’s yard I’m sure!

If anyone can recommend a good retirement home I’d be grateful!
Have a great weekend!

© Baldock Bard 2015
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