It’s Friday and that must mean a new guest for my guest writer slot. This week I’m welcoming Jean Harris, a beginner writer, who’s written an entertaining piece about a subject I’m sure you’ll all be able to relate to:

A Safe Place

By

Jean Harris

I’ve been doing it for years. It’s something my mother taught me. And I’ve probably passed it down to my daughters.

‘If something is very important, make sure you put it in a safe place,’ Mother always said.

I’ve done exactly that on many occasions. And I’ve had all sorts of safe places. The wardrobe in the bedroom is a particular favourite. The dresser in the lounge isn’t bad either, or the boxes under the bed. Sometimes the bookcase gets a turn and the bedside cabinet.

You would think it would be useful having so many safe places. It is, until I can’t remember which safe place has been used for which item.

I try so hard. The wardrobe is normally home to gifts of every shape and size before they are wrapped and given as birthday or Christmas presents. But sometimes a gift is too big to tuck into a corner of the wardrobe or so small, I’m sure it will slip down and be lost forever.

So I find another safe place for them. It’s usually a very good one. I really do try and commit every resting place to memory.

But my memory isn’t what it used to be, you see. I tried writing a list of where I had put everything. Of course, I had to find a safe place for that and well, I can’t remember where it is.

When I couldn’t find our holiday tickets, I knew drastic action was required. So I designed a special safe place box. Well, if you call writing ‘safe place’ on a cardboard box designing.

Anyway, I put it in pride of place in the lounge where I would walk passed it every day. Then if I had anything that required a safe place, I could just pop it into the box. And if I needed to take anything out, it was right there under my nose. What could go wrong?

Lots. There were several problems with the box. Firstly, a safe place means just that – a place where things are safe. Putting new chequebooks into a marked box in full view of the front window was not the safest place to put them. I may as well have written ‘Burglars look in here’ in neon letters.

The words also took on a whole new meaning when my ginger cat decided that the box made a lovely bed. I suppose I had pleased somebody, but Aunt Agatha wasn’t too impressed with the squashed notelets and chocolates she received from us last Christmas. Though for our dear cat’s sake, at least we hadn’t bought Aunt Agatha a cactus.

Safe was also not quite how I would describe the box after my husband forgot all about it being there, tripped over it and launched himself over the arm of the sofa. Luckily, a trip to casualty was just about avoided, but the safe place box had to go.

I had a brochure through the post today for improving your memory. I’ll put it in a safe place for now. Perhaps the bedside cabinet is a good place. I can look at it before I go to bed. But then, I’ll have forgotten all about it by the morning. Maybe the dresser drawer is a better place.

If you come up with a better idea, can you let me know?   

Jean Harris loves reading and always enjoyed writing at school. Now she’s retired, she’s decided it’s time she started writing again.  

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