Give them an Inch
Sometimes you come across the strangest things. Hog weed is not normally part of my sphere of reference. It grows six feet tall and only flowers at the top. Not only that but it normally flowers around May and June – not December.
There I was, nosing around a piece of the verge where I often pick up the most interesting (I won’t say the juiciest, just in case I’m miss-quoted) snippets of news – and thinking of leaving a posting or two myself. When suddenly, there it was, right at eye level, to say nothing of nose level. It must have grown almost overnight, we were down this way the day before last and it wasn’t here then. Perhaps the best thing I can do here is confirm that there was no giant at the top, no magical land, no eggs of any constituency or colour and no geese. Where all that nonsense he dreams up comes from, I’ve no idea.
But it made me wonder about opportunity. Some people seem to go through life somehow managing to be in the right place at the right time, awake and alert – ready to make a grab for a large chunk of their fair share. Then, there’s the rest of us, not even sure if we’re going the right way, never mind having any idea of what the right place would look like if ever we happened to pass it by, going in the opposite direction, on the other side of the road.