Following a couple of emails this morning I decided I had to come and share these brief tales.

Back in the days when MacGyver was on TV, I was a huge fan. I loved him, I wanted to be him. He was just so clever and could rescue you from any situation with just a Biro and some ingenuity.
So, I watched religiously, hoping this talent would rub off on me.
In one episode he sits at a bar, eating olives and declaring his love for them.
This was it! I had to have olives! If MacGyver liked them, then I surely would.
I went out to a restaurant with my family, there was a salad bar, it had olives.
This was my moment, I loaded up my plate with the black and the green.
My Mum issued words of caution "Don't get too many, you might not like them."
Ha! I thought, don't be ridiculous, if MacGyver likes them then I shall too.

I ate one. Just one. Then wondered what the hell I was supposed to do with the pile that still littered my plate. They were nasty damn it.

I have to say I have since acquired the taste for olives, but even today I couldn't manage the quantity I'd piled my plate with that day.


Within the email from my friend, Paul, he told of a dodgy knee resulting from trampoline misadventures.
I was reminded of those delightful P.E. lessons at school. I'm sure they were designed to fill your life with shame.
Today kids we'll hold hands with the opposite sex and learn how to barn dance.
Teachers can be cruel.
On this particular day, the activity was trampolining. There was a single trampoline and all the kids stood around whilst one of our number jumped and flopped about on the trampoline. It was clearly humiliating.
I am a short and stumpy creature, I always have been and it's likely I always will be. My desire to jump about on the trampoline was infinitesimal. I mean it could have been fun if you weren't being observed by 30 pairs of eyes. There was some quick thinking to be done.
My name was called, I was encouraged to get on the trampoline.
I refused.
I was told I must get on the trampoline.
I refused.
My eyes filled with tears.
Between small sobs I told my teacher of the day my family went to a local kids play area which had a trampoline. I told her how excited I'd been to jump and bounce around. Then I explained how I'd lost my balance, how my leg had slipped between the springs on one edge and how I'd been so scared and bruised. I told her how now I was left with a real fear of trampolines.
She comforted me, of course I was not going to need to get on, she called the next name as I quietly wept a little more.

Afterwards my friends said they had no idea that had happened.
Um, that would be because it never did.
I think it was the tears that sold it.
What's funny is, I really hated drama in school. Acting just wasn't for me... or perhaps I missed my vocation.
I think I may have just booked my seat in a hot and fiery place.