Time and Tide waits for No Man, who is an Island!

I have nearly worn out all of my 48th year and number 49 is already crouching ready to pounce on the next available Thursday. So it was with this busying my mind and morning, whilst on my third mug of tea that the ‘What If’ question started to bite. What if I lost some of this middle aged puppy fat, and took to a highly lucrative career in international bra fitting and finally made that big move to L.A. or Corby?
Obviously this kind of dilemma needs a lot thinking about, especially when trying to multi task; thinking AND heating up those really small sausages and baked beans, only to hear a knock at the door which brought me very quickly back to earth. Before I knew it (and with no consideration for my own personal safety) I was unlocking the door and hoping for one of those lovely Sunday morning moments when a passing Jehovah witness had smelt my atheism, and called to cure me.
Alas, clearly the Jehovah’s Witness program hadn’t been extended to the Bletchley area due to cut backs so I opened the door to Leighton’s second best Bassist, Nicola Beggs. Like a wise man visiting the baby Jesus he bore a gift, which to the untrained eye was about the size of a DVD /CD, or very thinly packed sports car. He sheepishly made some profound remarks about ‘time and tide’ and ‘Snowman weights’ or something, and hurriedly flounced off in a flurry of thinly disguised blond highlights and kilts, promising to be in touch the week after next!