In the wars

As I write this I am sitting at my hairdresser’s with a bump on my forehead which could get me a job in the local circus as one of the curiosities. It blends in nicely with the colour currently being put on my hair. Cleaning the bath today I slipped forward and wacked my head on the tap. If the lithe and flexible me of Pete’s dreams held my ankle up to my head I could have a matching pair.

Last Wednesday night I took Lulu into town to see Molly singing in a choir. “What has that got to do with your ankle I hear you say?”  Stick with me while I set the scene.

With barely enough time to spare we arrived in the vicinity of the Old Museum where the choir was singing, just as the crowds at the showgrounds were coming out from the Camper and Caravan show. There were cars and crazy camping people everywhere.  Zipping around the streets to look for a park was impossible. In the end we parked in what could easily have been a different state and made a dash for it. After a few minutes I had the foresight (unusual for me) to look at a street name so I could find the car on the way back. Pete was thoughtfully texting to let me know when Molly arrived on stage. We dashed into a car park with me confidently suggesting we could cut through and get out the other side only to find there was no exit and having to retrace our steps. Finally we arrived at the museum with only one song missed.  It was difficult though to hear over the sound of our rasping breath and judging by the withering looks we were being given, those around us were having difficulty too. The performance finished and less than an hour after arriving we were on our way back.  Pete, who had spectacularly managed to get a park close to the venue, dropped us back in the vicinity of my car. We set off down the street, Molly, Lulu and I, only the car was not where I thought it was.  It was dark, lighting was bad and we were in a part of town I did not know. We turned to retrace our steps and in doing so I put my foot down a hole. The pain was unbearable nearly causing me to pass out, but I had Molly and Lulu and in the interests of keeping them safe needed to remain conscious.  Gorgeous Molly is spectacular in these situations and takes charge, holding my arm and guiding us back the way we came. There was my car in the next street; we had walked straight past it.  We piled in and were thankful to all be safe and warm. They say things come in threes. I have to admit to a little uneasiness at what may come next…



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(2) comments

Jane June 15, 2011

You Betcha!

Leslie June 15, 2011

Jane, my first thought was” Gosh I hope you’re OK” my second thought “Good on ya Molly you are so like your Dad, calm and collected” and my third ” Jane you are so lucky that things only happen in threes!!.”

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