My little rhyme told of my failed attempt to do the least bit of anything right. So, I buy a clock! Okay it's broken -- so what! Back it went to the antique fayre and a very disappointed man handed back my Â£120.00 pounds with a degree of reluctance and a solemn face.
I can't help feeling a little bit sick that the clock that took my interest, and excited me to the point of a child in a sweetshop, was no longer part of the family -- gone like the family heirloom I promised Steph who incidently didn't care one way or the other.
"It smelled" She said "Musty like an old dog"
"It was oak and over 100 years old" I said in it's defense "and it's seen some action over the years"
"Well it's certainly had it's day" She snapped, and with that disappeared upstairs to her room.
My dad was more sympathetic and duly offered to buy me another if we went back. There was one I recalled. It was hung near the exit but the price I couldn't see. We decided to have a look and headed to the fayre this afternoon. To my relief it was still there and when I asked the guy for a price -- no wonder! Â£660.00 -- WHAT!!!
"It's a Thirty day clock and Westminster chime" He said
"Blimey! I'd want Big Ben and Westminster for that!" I said
My dad's wallet went away like a slight of hand and even though he walks slowly with a stick, he was out of there quicker than a cat with its tail on fire.
"Phew, that's a lot for a clock," he said. "It's a lot of money just for time."
I agreed wholeheartedly and with that came home.
I'll wait for the right clock to come along. Not my week for bargains!