A snail’s pace…

Sometimes I wish I was more technologically minded. If only that were so I might have finished publishing my “Innocent Flirt” book on Amazon’s Create-space Publishing (paperbacks) days ago. Instead, I’m labouring over the simplest of tasks (probably) because I’m so unaccustomed to all the ins-and-outs of resizing, trimming etc…. which is vital to get right or everyone will see at a glance that I’m a rank amateur. My head reels and my brow furrows as every day I plod on in the night and have to give up until the morning. I seem to be going at a snail’s pace… which reminds me…..

Yesterday morning, while Chris and I had our cup of tea in bed, we watched a snail climbing up the handrail of our outside steps; it was a perilous and arduous uphill climb for the snail, especially as it was wet and slippery (the snail must have had to use its body as a sucker). Sadly for the creature it was heading in the wrong direction for food – the summit was nothing more than a bare, slippery round finial – and it seemed to sense that something about his “snail nav” had gone amiss. He turned veered off to the right – no, that looked dangerous , he turned to the left – equally as frightening, so he persisted up to the post upon which held the finial. Bang! He hit the post and I could no longer bear to watch his suffering.

I ran (in only my panties and night vest) outside in the rain and helped the snail onto the summit. Was he happy? Well, didn’t appear to be very happy. He recoiled! And then he was definitely unhappy when he fell off onto to quarry tiles – oops! I picked him up and put him back (more carefully this time) and he played dead for a few minutes before setting off back down the wooden mountain.

To be honest with you, I’m really not at all fond of the slimy, plant-murdering blighters so I had no qualms about sending him down to the railway line below (to meet some of his friends) but I missed and he landed on the grass. In a way I was glad that I was such a poor shot. What I really wanted to say is that, if perchance you happened to be on either of the trains going by our place yesterday morning and you looked up and saw a strange woman wearing only a vest and pants, out in the rain, photographing a handrail, well you were wrong – I was photographing the snail!

What’s so strange about that? I know at least two other snail hunters.

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