My wardrobe, like a mature garden, changes with the seasons but no new plants or clothing items are purchased. As the weather grows warmer, the jacket comes off and then the jumper and I just walk around in a shirt, together with the jeans and shoes which remain in service regardless of the weather. I believe in having three pairs of shoes. One for comfort, one smart black pair, and one smart brown pair. Neither of them are worn very often because I am not smart, and that was explained carefully to both pairs before they agreed to become part of the Countingducks clothing supplies department.
Thus life has rolled on, and I have been happy with gradually putting on more layers as the temperatures changes, and I look forward to when jumpers and jackets could be quietly removed again to enjoy their well-earned summer break: shirts, by the very nature of their calling must work throughout the year.
This year, however, something has gone wrong. Some germs or a virus, no doubt exhausted from all that travelling and activity decided to take a break within my person and very soon afterwards I could be heard coughing and wheezing in riotous welcome, as well as experiencing fatigue and other odd symptoms. The health department blamed the jacket, saying it was too thin, and proceeded to get me a thicker ‘winter’ coat.
Now I am left with the choice, which I made this morning, over whether the air is cold enough to justify what I call “the emergency jacket” or warm enough to favour my ‘normal’ jacket whose feelings, I fear , are in danger of being bruised by the new kid in the wardrobe. This bewildering level of sensitivity cuts no ice with her ladyship and on those days, like today, when I decided to leave it inside, I gave my loyal pal a quiet pat to remind it that “It’s day would soon come again”. Sometimes we all need reassurance about our worth, even a humble jacket, and a quick pat on the back can make all the difference to our day.