Is There a Plan?

Not putting a mood in the box at the top as nothing is appropriate. Why can't you type in one of your own? AOL, are you listening?... no, I thought not.

I bought a triple CD of 80's 12 inches recently. Remember them? One or two of the tracks are rubbish but some are very good, the Talk Talk track is wonderful and I could listen to it for hours, there's something quite hypnotic about it and yesterday it had me dancing round the kitchen whilst I played it over and over. Never assume that because my body is in it's 50's that my head is anywhere near there yet. 

We had a box arrive at the studio in the week for Mike, I have no idea what he must have said whilst on air but he's had 4, not just one, but 4 'My Litle Ponys' sent to him. We will make sure they go to make money for charity but first, I thought, I'd better get one out of the box and make certain it's OK.

I've never had experience of My Little Pony before. The four we have all have long manes with a little brush, a pointy hat and a  a dinky little wishing well. The wishing well has a handle on the side, which I thought might be a music box.

I'd sent Mike to the shops on an errand and thought while he was out of the way I would open one, just to test it you understand. In the well is a frog with a gold crown resting on it's blue plastic water. I turned the handle and ........ the surface of the water turned over and the frog had gone leaving just blue water and some lily pads. That was quite amusing thinks I, now turn it again to get the frog back. It wouldn't. Whichever way I turned it it was not having it. The surface of the water was locked in position and wouldn't budge. I tried pressing the water with my finger but there was no way it was going to move.

I'm now quite cross as I can't give these things away if they break the first time you touch them. I look for instructions but all it said, in 27 different languages on the side of the box was 'Crystal touches the heart on the wishing well.'

 Crystal was by now not touching my heart,I was supposed to be cooking dinner and she was seriously peeing me off! Right, I'll open another of the billious, blue, monstrosities and see if that one works. I very gently turned the handle to make sure I didn't force anything. I barely touched the handle and woosh, over goes the frog and now I have two broken wishing wells. There is no way they are turning back over, they are well and truely jammed.

I'm expecting Mike back any minute and I'm deciding to go for the, 'What do you mean, bringing this load of crap home!' attack is the best form of defence line, when I think I will just have one more look at the box. Still no instructions but there is a little note about magnetic parts. This starts a little part of my brain whirrring and I start to investigate the pony, Crystal. On the underside of one of her feet there is a large pink dot. Hmm!!!!   Crystal touches the heart on the wishing well? There is a small pink heart on the side of the well. I put her little pink hoof on the heart ( I can't believe I'm telling you this) and woosh... the water turns over again to reveal the little frog with the crown.

When I looked at the box again, I noticed it said not suitable for children under 3 years of age. I think it needs amending to not suitable for children under 53 years of age!

Last Saturday, as mentioned in my previous entry, we went out for lunch to Abbots Bromley, some 50 miles from here. I went in the summer to meet up with an old friend and was so taken with the area I wanted to take Mike there, as he had never been.

We had a lovely lunch, at The Goats Head, while we were in the pub I kept looking at people as  for some reason I expected to see someone I knew. After Lunch we went for a walk around the village.There are lots of old houses fronting right onto the pavement, very good for nosing into people's front rooms, a few pubs but only a couple of shops. A butcher's and a newsagent's.

We walked down a side street to the ancient church and had a good mooch around inside and out. There is a stunning modern metal sculpture on the wall above the main entrance. 

When we left the church I had an odd feeling of fitting to a timescale. Mike suggested walking down one path to the bottom of the churchyard but I didn't want to, I wanted to do a quick circuit of the church and get back to the main street.

I said I wanted to walk to the end of the main street on the one side and then cross over and go back down the other. I now felt I was needing to hurry and was walking quite fast, which is most unlike me.

We walked past the newsagent and I could not say if there was a car there or not. We kept going until I knew I'd reached the point where we had to cross. There were still houses either side but now they had gardens. As we walked back on the other side of the street towards the newsagent's I noticed there was a car parked outside. It's very quiet with not much traffic, as we drew almost opposite the car, the driver came out of the shop and walked round to the driver's door. We looked at each other and did a double take, he was a director of the company I worked for for 8 years, back in Worcester, 50 miles away. We used to chat quite a lot in break times and his birthday is the same day as my mother's.

I haven't seen him since he retired almost 4 years ago. The three of us stood chatting  for at least ten minutes, if not more and we were both pleased to have this chance encounter. But why? Why did I feel compelled to walk a certain route and to change the speed I was walking? Just a few seconds either way and we would not have seen each other. Why was it important?

Someone suggested that by that ten minute delay while we were talking it could have prevented either of us being in an accident, I don't know and don't suppose I ever will but from the time we left the pub until we saw Steph, I knew I was being directed.

It's not the first time things like that have happened. When I was seventeen my boyfriend had a soft top MGB. I always wore my seat belt, in his car, or anyone elses and used to get very cross with Mum when she wouldn't wear hers. I think the boyfriend  normally did as well but can't vouch for that.

We went to a Bonfire Party, it was a lovely evening, even though it was November and we had the top of the car down on the way there. I can't tell why neither of us put  our belts on on the way home, something stopped me, as if I knew it was safer somehow but that didn't make sense. Until later.

.We'd put the top back up then, which was another blessing. We'd only travelled a few hundred yards when we skidded on a bend, hit a tree stump, carried on along the hedge with my side of the car getting higher and higher until it flipped over and landed upside down in the road, where it continued it's manic journey for another ten yards.

Apart from a couple of deep cuts to my head, one where the quarterlight had caved in and stuck in the side of my head and the other, on the top, from the frame of the hood, we were just jarred and bruised.

We were sitting inside the car, on the soft top, which was now on the road, we had both been flipped over, out of our seats, which were now above our heads, people stopped and helped lift the car so we could get out.

When we saw the car later we could see the headrests had been sheared off from when the car careered upsidedown along the road . Had we been strapped in we would both have been decapitated, well, me more than him as he was a bit of a short arse!

I have had several experiences like this, where I feel I'm being guided. I can't offer an explanation but I never doubt it when I get these feelings, so far they have only been to my benefit.

School was busy this week as there was loads to cram in before half term. We had some interesting visitors for the children which could explain why one boy obviously got a little over excited and called his supply teacher a Slapper. Trouble was, he's not very bright and we knew he didn't know what it meant, so we all had trouble not laughing.

I've just been invited to the pub, so I'm off now, should I wear my seat belt, or not?

PS I just thought I would have a look at my German 'nearly' son in law's website for his punk group, to see if they have confirmed the dates for their UK tour next month. While I was there I had a look again at the tracks on their new CD.

How do these titles grab you?

Crash Cars Look Better Than Daisies.

When Oranges are Juice They're Dead.

Sheep, Sheep, Sheep.

 

Hmmmm! I think I shall be looking closely at Flo when he comes here at Christmas.