The perils of creative ideas

You may not have noticed (particularly if you don’t actually live in Britain) but we’ve had a little snowfall recently. This morning, I opened the front door to nearly a foot of soft white stuff – infinitely more pleasant than the icy stuff that’s greeted me over the last two days. It’s a lot less dangerous to walk through too…

At a meeting a couple of days ago, a task had been allocated to me for Thursday’s lunch break (relating to my inability to suppress either creative ideas or sarcastic, flippant remarks) which involved not just going outside in the freezing cold, but also foraging for something [precise details of the foraging and its results to follow later]. It wasn’t an attractive prospect today, but the idea of taking photos in Regent’s Park did appeal, so I went for it.

Unsurprisingly, the park was stunning. The pond was frozen, the trees laden with snow and its fields virtually deserted of its usual lunch-time runners and tourists. There was also a lot of wildlife – pigeons, herons and the like – as well as lovely squirrels.

I’m a fan of squirrels. When I was young we had a lovely one that lived in our back garden and sometimes came and sat on our back step when the kitchen door was open – I named him Spike. I was rather impressed that the squirrels were letting me take some pretty good photos of them today, clearly Regent’s Park’s inhabitants are cockier than most.

Getting on with my foraging, I paused occasionally to take more photos, increasingly amused at the squirrels’ tenacity and their apparent fascination with the purple wellies. Some tourists behind me were getting very excited about them, but I carried on my search amongst the snow drifts. After a few minutes I paused to organise my findings on a nearby bench [sorry, this sounds ridiculous without explaining what I was up to – I’ll explain soon – promise] and the squirrels followed.

Out came my camera again, amused that one had sat on my foot. Amusement soon turned to shock and horror as the creature proceeded to run up my leg! Urgh. They may be cute from a distance, but up close they’ve got sharp claws and look rather rat like. After shaking my leg viciously and squealing like the girl that I am, I walked briskly on, continuing my mission.

Immediately prior to the incident – you can tell the squirrel’s plotting something. 

The squirrels followed. This time, I vowed not to be distracted, or to make eye contact with them.
My stalkers did not get the better of me again.

There was another peril of this winter-time adventure – the sheer cold and specifically, its affect upon my extremities. When one arm is devoted to carrying a pile of something, it doesn’t allow much circulation to the fingers and even if they’re glove-covered, they can get very cold. Very, very cold. On returning to the office the pain was so intense that all I could do was pace my office moaning “ow, ow, ow” until it subsided. Over an hour later they were still tingly, though apparently because they hadn’t turned black or snapped off, no permanent damage was done – good to know.

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