Hop Along

As you know, I live with my best friend Mildred deep in the south of England. We have a little cottage - yes with roses round the door - and life is generally very jolly. However, of the two of us, Mildred is the daredevil. You may remember that I wrote a piece about how we prepared her for winter in strict adherence to the old fashioned ways - I goose greased her and sewed her into men's long underwear and vest. I suppose that I shouldn't have been too surprised when Mildred announced that the annual freezing over of the outside children's paddling pool in the recreation ground was about to take place and that she fancied going ice skating on it! Against my better judgement we went down the first Saturday evening that it opened. The ice rink/paddling pool is something of an institution here and has been enjoyed by scores of people over the 80 or so years that they have been freezing it. Ice skates are very cheap to hire - £1.50 for the session - and we both took to the ice with our customary skill and alacrity. What I mean is that I clung to the rail around the rink, whilst Mildred skated off to impress the vicar and his wife who were sailing sedately around; he with his scarf flying behind him and she with her hands firmly planted in her rabbit fur hand muff. He was terribly polite and chivalrous about being struck sideways on by a flying Mildred at a collision speed of about 90 mph. I could see what was going to happen. The vicar stopped still whilst Mildred bounced off him like bullet ricocheted off a wall. She went straight over onto her back, legs akimbo and skirt revealing altogether far too much of her long underwear. The vicar gallantly averted his eyes but held out his hand. Mildred grasped it and started to haul herself up, hand over hand up his arm. He, ever the gentleman, called to her to let him pull her up . This fell on Mildred's deaf ears and whilst he pulled, she clambered until she seemed to be hanging around his neck. The unexpected weight then pushed him over and he lay on the ice with Mildred straddled across his neck! Poor lamb, he was struggling to breathe as the combined weight of Mildred and her winter clothes combined with what must have been the most malodorous smell of goose grease forced him to panic and attempt to struggle to his feet. As he twisted he caught her be-skated boot under him and there was a sickening "Snap" as her ankle broke.

You can imagine the commotion. Mildred in real pain, the vicar desperately trying to apologise and pick himself up. His wife enquiring if all was well - when it clearly wasn't. Across the ice came the paramedic, skate-less. That was a mistake too as he shot into the assembled group and soon we had people, bandages and miscellaneous ointments and tinctures skidding around in the middle of the rink. Just as I thought things couldn't get much worse they did! The pool only has about 4 inches of water in it. The rink manager, trying to help hit the fast "Thaw" button. Soon I was watching a scene of utter devastation as the ice rapidly turned to water and now, apart from the skating accidents we were now faced with imminent death by drowning! The Manager, ever helpful, started to throw life rings into the pool. People who seconds earlier had been skating were now foundering in the water. This was turning out to be an accident of Titanic proportions.

Three ambulances took the injured to hospitals that evening. All except Mildred were released the same night. Mildred came out the following day and now sports a plaster cast from toes to her knee. You can imagine my response when she told me that she wanted to have a go on a child's pogo stick earlier today.

We don't celebrate Thanksgiving here. Perhaps we should, at least in our little cottage!!