Having just returned from my holidays, I’m feeling relaxed, refreshed and (at least for a short while) I don’t have a care in the world. Unlike one of my neighbours, who’s been completely bald for years and doesn’t have a hair in the world. I understand that nothing much happened while I was away – except an earthquake.
It started with a low rumble in Tumble. They felt its power down the Gower. A window pane went ‘crack’ in a greenhouse near Clydach. And a tree began to bend in a garden in Bridgend.
I did consider entering some of my poetry in the Eisteddfod, completing my application in the form of a poem so it would stand out from all the others. But, ironically, I couldn’t think of a word that rhymes with Eisteddfod.
Joking aside, depending where you were at the time, the earthquake was pretty scary. Two Carmarthen fellas, having difficulty keeping vertical after a lunchtime drinking session, were violently knocked back on their feet.
Something else earth-shattering happened while I was on holiday. KFC ran out of chickens. Yes, the fast-food chain Kentucky Fried Chicken, which specialises in fried chicken meals, was unable to sell fried chicken meals because they didn’t have any chickens to fry. Apparently, they had problems with a new delivery firm and, until it was resolved, no chickens could cross the road. Several newspapers reported that some KFC fans were so distraught they were unable to get their regular fix of eating fried chicken out of a bucket that they called the police.
Wondering exactly what these people thought the police could possibly do about it kept me awake all night. In fact, I was still awake at seven o’clock, so drove to my local McDonalds to try one of their new giant burgers for breakfast. Guess what? They’d sold out of them the week I was on holiday.
