Chute

Chute is a useful French word - Chute means a fall whether it be from a horse, a quad or a hay loft. Over some 30 odd years, I have had an awful lot of them. I have been blessed with good luck in as much as although I have had some real crumplers, I have never yet been injured seriously. Well yes I did break my collar bone when I was 10. My worst fall was about 18 months since, when my tricycle and I were run into and over by a white Citroen van - I do not know why - it never stopped to ask. I did not become conscious for another fortnight and for some months there-after; I was sunk in dreams - some pleasant - some not; It seemed that my head had had a good clattering, which is really not recommended and which has rather buggered up my memory, so when I go to London in April, I am to be shipped off to see Dr Kennedy at the Lister Hospital down by Chelsea Hospital. He is said to be good at disentangling muddled and scrambled brains. As my son says - I must have a huge mental overdraft and now it is 'payback time'.
How did you enjoy the recent windy weather? A real bugger was it not? We had damage to the roof. I had been to the market in the town and had just avoided being blown into the fish lady's stall.
When we got back home I got out of the car to close the yard gate. The wind was howling around the buildings and I had great problems standing. Eventually I managed to force my way out of the door of the front passenger seat. The wind came howling down the passage way by the building. It caught the car door, snatched it out of my hands, and slammed it shut. I had been leaning against the door for balance. The wind suddenly gusted and dropped. There was no wind against the door or supporting my balance, the door shut and removed my equilibrium. I fell flat on my back, dropping the back of my head on the concrete floor - not recommended procedure nor much fun. Nor was it much fun when I found that I could not get up: my knees are frankly buggered these days. Mrs Poole came to help, but, bless her heart, she is a little scrap of a woman and can no more shift me than I could shift a bullock, so she jumped in the car and shot down the road to where Gerrard and Josette live - they have picked me up before. They were not there, so she shot up the road and collared Laurens our other neighbour. He came at once bless him, wrapped his arms round me and hoisted me up so that I could grasp the top bar of the yard gate. We have good neighbours bless them. It took me two days to get my twisted knees working again. So that was a Chute and in all honesty, I do not recommend them. All you will do is to increase your physical debit balance - rather painfully.