I suppose it had to happen ‘Elvis’ came back to the Ricoh almost a year after he was sacked and claimed all three points. Someone needs to tell him that he spoiled my day.
I made up my mind yesterday to put into practice something I’d read in the week. Several research projects have suggested that gardening has a positive effect for those who have dementia. My only problem yesterday was that I knew it would be too cold for Maureen to join me outside, or for me to stay in the garden for very long. So throughout the morning I popped outside for ten minutes at a time. Maureen stayed in the warm, supervising my efforts from the patio doors in the dining room.
As I pottered she watched my efforts as I improved the prospect from our dining room. After several bursts of activity I introduced some colour, and order into what had become a tired scene.
We took our mid-morning break and I sat back with some satisfaction looking at how four additional polyanthus, along with some tidying up, had added a splash of colour to what had become a very tired scene.
After a warming lunch I sat back to my usual Saturday afternoon. The Sky Blues were unchanged from their last match a 6-0 victory over Bury, and I anticipated another high scoring win against Fleetwood. Elvis spoiled all that as his team ran out 2-1 winners. I know it is rather silly but my mood always dips when we lose. It could have been worse as my bet would have already been down had the bookies accepted my wager that not only would we win the league but we would be unbeaten for the rest of the season. Thankfully my quid at 20-1 is still on. I think the odds would have been even better after the way they played yesterday!
By the way for the uninitiated ‘Elvis’ is Steven Pressley the dastardly manager of Fleetwood Town. Just as Coventry City missed an opportunity to stay in touch with the leaders of the division I also failed to make the best of things. Rather than slipping into despair about the fortunes of my team I could have turned it into an opportunity. Elvis could have been artist of the night and Maureen would have waxed lyrical. My disappointment with the footie meant that I failed to carry out my duties as the resident D J. Instead ‘we took an early bath’, as they say in the game, and were in bed by 9 pm.
I wonder if Maureen would have sang along to this one with some gusto?