A sponsored swim-a- jog- a- bake-along- a- cake-a- bun-a- biscuit -dance

Don't ask me why but recently I've been thinking about doing some fund-raising for charity. There is no obvious reason for this thought. My mind, I think, often works independently from me and if I leave it unguarded for a day or two it can make its own decisions and then expect me to take the consequences.

I've had a bit of think today about what I could do vis a vis fund-raising . I did most of the thinking on the bus home from town (I caught the bus home because there was still a lot of snow and ice on the pavements and my journey into town on foot a couple of hours earlier in my shiny boots had been more than fraught with skiddy danger). The bus, according to the massive sign written on its side, was a 'new, state-of-the-art' bus. 'Oh goody!' I thought, stepping on and settling into a seat, fully expecting to enjoy a new state-of-the-art bus riding experience. Did I get it? Nope. Not a cup of coffee, a shoulder massage, a balloon-modelling clown or a performance poet in sight. Which left me nothing to do other than think.

I thought, I could do a sponsored swim now I'm back into swim fitness. Boring. And of no benefit to anyone. Ditto sponsored walks, runs, weight losses, silences and book reads. (Except a book read wouldn't be boring. Unless it involved 'A la recherche de temps perdu' or 'Ulysses' or anything by anyone called Amis or Rushie.) What can I do that other people would enjoy, I thought. I could bake cakes and biscuits and hold an all day cake and coffee sale. Or I could make soft toys and sell them. I used to make a lot of soft toys once upon a time. I could do tarot readings. I could do a 'tea and tarot and carrot' evening. (Don't ask me about the carrots. One of my minds more dubious suggestions and one I'm not even going to begin to try and explain.)

What about a charity auction? Or a writing competition with all entries going into an anthology that could be sold? Or a cabaret evening? A quiz night? The possibilities, it seems, are endless.

At this point I had to get off the bus which saved my brain from over-frying itself. Phew!

I shall give some of these ideas more serious thought. And then, of course, I shall have to decide which charity I want to fund raise for.
'How about something chicken related?' asks Mrs Poo as I tuck the girls up for bed and share my thoughts of the day with them.
'Like the Battery Hen Welfare Trust, you mean?' I say. 'And put out that torch, Mrs Slocombe. I can see you reading under the duvet. You'll ruin your eyes.'
'Yes, I suppose so,' says Mrs Poo. She is wearing her new Doctor Who Pyjamas, the ones with David Tennant emblazoned on the front, locked in mortal combat with a Cyberman.
'It's the only chicken charity I can think of,' I say. 'Do you know of any others?'
'Weeeelll.....' begins Mrs Poo, 'there's always the W.N.A.H.I.T.C' fund.'
'And what's that?' I ask.
'The 'We Need A Holiday In The Caribbean' fund,' says Mrs Poo.

Really, she's shameless that hen. I give her a reprimanding look and close the bedroom door.
'Night night, girls,' I say and head towards the back door. Stopping to remove my wellies I swear I can hear the strains of the Banana Boat Song drifting across the garden.
'How about a sponsored limbo dance?' says my mind.
'Don't you start,' I say.