Being of an impatient nature, when stuck with someone who is rabbiting-on and getting nowhere, I have for years developed the extremely bad habit of carving -up the flesh around my thumbnails using the index fingernail as a tool. This self-mutilation deters me from telling anyone to 'get on with it' or indeed screaming with frustration as some poor soul whines and whinges.
My impatience is directly inherited from my father who, when listening to someone, would rattle the coins in his pocket or drum the fingers of both hands on the arms of his chair (at least the latter was quieter!)
This Autumn has brought my cure. I have never resisted gathering conkers, - to open-up that green spiky case and extract its gloriously coloured fruit, individually designed and polished by its soft surroundings, - pure magic.
Groups of chestnuts are now strategically placed throughout the house, 'phone in one hand and a couple of conkers in the other, it doesn't seem to matter so much that I'm listening to a robot giving me instructions to press 1 to pay my account, press 2 to place an order....................
Whilst the supermarket cashier talks about absolutely nothing to the customer in front of me, there I stand, conkers in each pocket, pressing them against the palms of my hands, - no stress!
On the tree chestnuts are whacked as sticks are thrown to detach them, if they fall naturally onto a road they get runover and crushed and when collected as weapons for a championship they suffer the indignity of being skewered and threaded onto string, wielded against an opponent until one is smashed and capitulates, - but if they are gathered up by an impatient old lady they will spend their future being fondled and nurtured!
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