A Head Like A Sieve.

I have never been good with money matters, do not understand how most investment systems work, and am deeply afraid of losing the little money I have.

It has therefore been quite a struggle since John's death to keep an eye on what is in the bank and what it is doing.

My one attempt to save over a set period and leave at the end of the set time with the original sum intact, plus, hopefully some interest, has now matured and I spent an hour and a half with a lovely helpful girl in my bank yesterday trying to look into the future.

We have finally sorted everything out to my satisfaction and with one further appointment made for a few weeks time, I left the bank feeling reasonably happy.

Since it was one of my St. Mary's mornings I made my way there after the meeting.  Under my arm was the black leather folder with all the papers detailing what we had discussed.

After my morning stint I headed for Marks and Spencer to do some grocery shopping then down to the bus stop to get my bus home.

A few hours later I realised that I no longer had my folder.

Panic !!!

This morning I phoned the Church, Marks and Spencer and the bank to try to recover my papers.

No joy.

Thinking I may have left them on the bus I tried unsuccessfully to find a lost property number for the bus service I use.  There is no number.

As I had to shop in town again this morning I talked to the bus driver who kindly rang round a few of his colleagues.  Again no success.

My folder appears to have vanished and I am desperately trying to remember exactly what information is contained in the papers.  I think (hope) there is no card or pin number and the bank seems to think it will not be possible for anyone to try to use them fraudulently.

Here's hoping.

I fear I am a bear of very little brain and what brain there is appears to be scrambled..