Friday 13th

Friday the 13th - Hah I spit on you. Ptoooey. You hold no fear for me. I was born on the 13th and with a name like westerwitch and a penchant for running under ladders and shouting 'see, nothing' - how can I be afraid and I had a black cat and I . . .oh never mind. And having just been to the Docs this morning - my ribs are taking forever to heal and I keep 'doing things' and making them worse - and having been told by the Doc I have to rest, hurrah no hoovering, ironing, washing dishes - I LURVE that man - how could today be anything, but a wonderful day for me. Phew I can breath out now - hate writing long sentences cos I have to hold my breath. But I am running out of full stops I am having to conserve them you see. It is because I go . . . . . . . alot - so if anyone has any spare black dots - I would be grateful. Better have some - - - - while you're at it

Oh dear rambling again . . . . . Friday 13th holds no fear, but Thursday 12th now that is a different matter entirely.

To be fair yesterday was a good day, morning and afternoon, by my definition, that is. Apart from a friend dog's pooping in my kitchen. Garn we did larf I tell you.

The evening in comparison went downhill at a rate of something very fast. We had rehearsals for our up and coming shows. Lixtroll had rehearsed my lines with me in the afternoon and I did ok. But in the village hall and on stage, cotton wool invaded brain. Words slid off sideways, sniggering as they left my head. Several of those awful silences when I am thinking smugly – hah, no one speaking, clearly people don't know their lines . . . .and of course that people twas me! So C- for effort and could do better in Drama!

Phew rehearsals over and out to the car park. I put my key in the Jeep car door and it snapped in the lock. Berludy hell and all that. Husband at this point was ten minutes outside the village, coming home from a photo shoot - I phoned him on my mobile - and we agreed he would come and pick me up, back home spare key and so on. I sat in a friend's car and waited and waited and waited and . . . waited hmmmmm. Oh and son turned up too as I was supposed to be giving him a lift home.

Finally husband turns up and the picture of how things should go - me get out of friend's car and get into husband's went all skewwiff. Husband got out of car and then joined by son they proceeded to look at the front of the car. My car that is. The car that husband had borrowed for the day. So I said good bye to my friend and went to look at the front of the car too. Mmmm very ordinary front of car with a WHAT cracked grill and should the bonnet really be that squiggly.

The story unfolded. Husband on the way to the village after talking to me on the mobile (hands free of course) had suddenly been confronted by a very large, well antlered stag, jumping over the stone wall that bordered the narrow road. Brakes I understand where swiftly applied and the car went into screech mode. Although the car slowed right down it still hit the stag. Oh deer (well someone was going to say it - might as well be me). The stag ran away, NOT dragging any broken limbs I am happy to say. The front of the car revealed a few hairs, but no blood. So I sincerely hope that the stag was ok. Husband was of course a bit shaken up and we still had to sort out the key problem. Which we did. But it delayed sitting down for a quiet shake, a chat about 'what if' and of course a big glass of wine.

It did make me think though, as I have thought many times before, that life should be lived with joy for every minute it offers, because we live on a knife edge and things can change in a second. This time husband was ok. But certainly the stags life was not as it was, before it jumped over the wall.

On a lighter note I have an A+ from Bill for answering the wrong exam question. WHAT! Oh no . . boring . . I wanted a D- and to be sent to stand in the corner, where I could mutter darkly and operate my fart machine by the remote control. Bah. Will certainly have to try harder.