Several years ago I helped a friend move house in Birmingham. To thank me, he took me to Edgbaston on the Sunday to watch a one day match between Warwickshire (the home side) and Worcestershire, which was near where I lived at the time. It was a strange match as Worcestershire didn't make many runs, about 130 from memory, and Warwickshire had got to 80 odd without losing a wicket. Suddenly, wickets started to fall and it got quite exciting. As yet another one fell, I jumped up and cheered - then remembered that I was sitting in the Warwickshire members' enclosure. OOPS. I was lucky not to get thrown out. When the match finished and Worcestershire won, one of the members said, in a very broad Brummie accent, 'well done, your team deserved to win'. He noticed, then!

A few months ago, I was getting ready for my mother to bring my grandmother over for a sleepover (I think this was the month she had no appointments. I figured I’d eat quick before she got there—so pulled out a can of soup—and promptly sliced through my finger, which was in the way of the lid as it went was pulled up [I stopped using a can opener the day that I had to rush to the doctor’s for a tetanus shot because I cut myself on the bent tin].

The worst part was, I didn’t even realize how bad the cut was until after I’d pulled my food out of the microwave and was eating—and happened to notice the wetness dripping from my hand. I then applied pressure with my napkin—and tried to clean up a mess under the microwave.

In sptite of my bwest efforts, there was a “crime-scene” waiting for my company! [I can laugh about it now, but I was extremely embarrassed then—so much so that I kept muttering “I wish I’d never opened that damned can” or “I wish I hadn’t eaten!”