I am afraid that I am marked for death. I do not wish to be marked for death. My nephews are visiting and I refuse to believe that the Universe will deny me the pleasure of a Third Sojourn in London.
So why, I can hear you all thinking, am I blogging about being marked for death.
Yesterday was a good day. I submitted the twelve-millionth tweak of my chapter for an edited collection that may see the light of day sometime next year. (I am sure that the blasted thing will come back to me at some point for another tweak before it ends up printed and bound!) I had a yummy dinner at a new place that I hope to return to and enjoy another yummy dinner, in the company of my lovely friend, Ariel. I accomplished some Christmas shopping in a real shop and not online at Amazon.co.uk or thebookdepository.co.uk!
My suspicions of impending fatalism were aroused during my homeward journey.
At 8:02pm I was driving slowly from the Midland Train Station when a Daft Cow in a Silver Mini Cooper S pulled out from a carpark right in front of me.
I went from 50-something kms/hour to 0km/hour in three seconds.
My Orla Kiely handbag with the cutlery design went flying off the front passenger seat sending its contents onto the dashboard and the floor. The ‘I HEART Darcy’ bag containing gym gear moved from the middle of the back seat for the first time in two months landing on the floor. (The contents did not move in flight because I think that they have melted together over the course of the hot two months in which I have not been going to the gym.) My head went crashing into the steering wheel leaving a lovely floral mark on my forehead that, funnily enough, resembled the floral motif of my steering wheel cover.
Fortunately the angle at which my head hit the steering wheel meant that my chin landed firmly on that bit in the middle that sounds the horn when depressed so I was able to make the Daft Cow in the Silver Mini Cooper S aware of the near catastrophe her bloody incompetence almost caused.
I heard what I feared may have been bells – does the Angel of Death carry bells or just the scythe? – but it was the car travelling behind me applying pressure to its horn protesting against the sudden violent halt to its progress through Midland.
Needless to say the Daft Cow in the Silver Mini Cooper S drove on, seemingly oblivious.
I shook off the descending concussion and cautiously continued my journey.
At the next set of traffic lights, I was very pleased to find that the Daft Cow in the Silver Mini Cooper S was getting an earful from the Horn Depressor from the car that had been travelling behind me.
I pulled up beside the Daft Cow in the Silver Mini Cooper S, emerged from my Little White Holden Nova and yelled, “Watch where you are bloody going you stupid woman!! You nearly ran into me!! And why on earth did you just drive on and not stop? I could have been concussed! Look at my head! It’s covered in a bloody floral motif I hit the steering wheel that hard. For goodness sake”.
Yes, I have to admit that there was probably an F-word in there too, but there is no need to share that with you because it is an awful word and should not be used when one is in control of one’s verbal output.
The Daft Cow in the Silver Mini Cooper S sat quivering in the front seat and kept repeating that annoying phrase, “I’m sorry, I didn’t see her/you”, over and over again.
Yes, it would have been hard to see me in my Little White Holden Nova, especially when I was right on top of her!
Okay, I can hear you all thinking. That was a pretty rough ending to your day, but for goodness sake woman, it was hardly a life threatening situation. Your head is thick, it can take being smacked against a steering wheel occasionally.
I used to think that I was going to meet my maker thanks to a rather nasty fall down a precarious staircase. After a year of driving the length of Greenmount Hill, Western Australia every day, except on Slothful Sundays when I do not leave the house unless for something very entertaining, I am now thinking that Death by Daft Driver is my fate.
Slamming my brakes to avoid rear ending the Daft Driver who has just pulled in front of me is something that I do EVERY DAY. Not occasionally, EVERY DAY!!
I had my nephews check and there is no sign invisible to my eyes on the front of my car reading, “Pull Out In Front Of Me, I Love Emergency Applicating My Brakes”.
So what is it that makes Daft Drivers pull out in front of me? I think it may be that I am marked for Death by Daft Driver.
If I can just avoid them until the twenty-eighth of December 2011 when I plan to be hopping on a plane back to Blighty to commence my Third Sojourn in London, I should be okay.
But just in case…
I want to send out this little note of THANK YOU to my lovely friends who have made my life just wonderful by their mere presence in it.
I do not want to get too mushy, because I do not do mushy, but I know how completely unbearable life is when one has an address book empty of wonderful friends. I have been there.
Yes, family is wonderful too, especially when one’s siblings and honorary siblings start presenting one with gorgeous nieces and nephews, and honorary nieces and nephews.
But it is those whom one chooses to bring into their life who are extra precious.
(And what a wonderful thing when someone chooses me!! I still cannot get over that people choose to have me in their life! Wonders never cease and all that!)
Jayne, Adey, Allison, Giselle, Stephen (P, not Fry), Alastair, Alisya, Kristy & Matt, Jane & Steve, my fellow Fry Agents, Jo, Ali & Grae, Tracey & Adam, Berenice, Heather, Barbara, Dee, Elena, Mr Nagle…
And not forgetting Mary, J-A and Ariel!
As I was driving up the Greenmount Hill last night, eyes pealed for Daft Drivers, I thought of all the wonderful mini-adventures and lovely times I have had with all of you, and those I have not mentioned personally, but who are never forgotton or far from my thoughts, and I realised I had better take the next available opportunity to say – Thank you for being my friends!
So I am taking this opportunity to say to you all now:
THANKS FOR BEING MY FRIENDS!!
And other mushy stuff I do not say, but I always feel, being the old softy that I am, all evidence to the contrary.
Hopefully I will get to see you all again soon and it won’t be a case of “So long, and thanks for all the friendship”, but I have to get home tonight up that bloody hill, so just in case…