I am this person- daring, confident, willing to give anything a go. Well maybe 30 years ago. The spirit is willing but the body has crumbled and if I attempted it now I’d be off to the fracture clinic and A&E.

When I said to my nephew, ‘I’ll show you some moves on your skateboard,’ it was the alcohol talking. I’d never been on one in my life. 

I put the board down, stood on it and pushed off gingerly and somehow I managed to remain upright. I leapt off and running alongside the board, bent down and scooped it up. Rather nicely done I’d thought. My nephew was clearly expecting more. Feeling confident I pushed off again, with some force this time. As I hurtled towards the bend in the road I realised I didn’t know how to turn. The only thing for it was to  use the Leylandii hedge as a safety net. 

The skateboard hit the kerb. It stopped dead. But  I carried on, my legs moving in  slow motion like a runner in ‘Chariots of  Fire.’ Fortunately I didn’t hit anything solid as I went through the hedge. Coming out the other side; I trampled across the flowering herbaceous border before falling face down in the crotch of the seated vicar.

‘Manna from Heaven,’ said the vicar, enjoying my unfortunate position. I hastily apologised to the startled guests and left.  

Walking back my nephew said, ‘Nice move.’