27 Jul 2012

And Then, It Starts….

On rising this morning I was greeted by a nice sunny day. I was sitting in the garden with a coffee, pondering what to do today but at the same time unable to shake off the strange sensation that something just wasn't quite right. It just seemed so spookily quiet.

Then, like a bolt out of the blue, it hit me! Her indoors was still outdoors!! What seemed like a good idea yesterday now seemed like the absolute height of folly. What to do? Suppose I'd better go find her outdoors and get her back indoors.

After a shower and a leisurely breakfast I got in the motor and turned TomTom on, thought a while, then turned Tommy off.

I've noticed recently that Tommy has been giving directions in an increasingly tetchy, irritated manner. I've put this down to my little nest of vipers winding him up by repeatedly calling him 'stupid' for the merest miss direction when not fully understanding our true intentions.

My thinking was if Tommy picked up the fact that her indoors was missing, he may well just keep sending me in ever increasing circles 'till I give up, declare her MIA and return home, thereby leaving him the supreme being in the car. Farfetched? You ever see two thousand and whatever, a spare oddity? Remember Hal? You just can't take chances these days.

Tommy? Do I really need him? As I was a navigator for a short period in a past life, in the days when it was done with the sun, stars and a sextant, I'm sure I can get there unaided by modern technology!!

I'll change direction here for a moment in case you're wondering why there's all this rushing about to bring her back.

As you may possibly be aware, the Olympifest starts this evening – I mean starts proper, and there was a politician on the radio this morning telling me there was an 'unbelievable level of enthusiasm throughout the land'. Although she's not of these Isles, she's not averse {adverse?} to a spot of 'unbelievable enthusiasm' on occasion. As this politician made his announcement in the form of a directive, and as she's alone, stuck out in the countryside, she'll be unaware of the need to be unbelievably enthused so it seemed only right I should get her back home to be part of the Nations unbelievable level of enthusiasm. Every little helps, right?

Right. Back to the recovery mission. After an hour or so of meanderings and wrong turnings and finally admitting I was totally lost, I resorted briefly to a tad of Tommy guidance. This should also clear up, for those of you wondering, why I was only a navigator for a short period in a past life.

Finally, there she was. Not exactly a little ray of sunshine, but didn't seem to have anything sharp in her hands so I approached with only moderate trepidation.

She's fine, just fine, and recounted how, on realizing she'd been left, just made the best of things. It was a warm, dry night so after becoming replete following an evening repast comprising berries and a small portion of meat, meat which required a swift, decisive skirmish with a pair of crows to determine rightful ownership, she settled down to a dreamless sleep.

Seems the only moment of high drama during her adventure was as she fell off the car roof. Upon landing on the road, she had to roll rapidly to her right to avoid being run over by a steam roller which had been in the process of overtaking us at that precise moment.

She be here, fully fed and watered and waiting for the darts to start. I have pointed out to her that, although I'm not a hundred percent sure, I'm pretty sure it's illegal to watch anything other than the Olympifest for the next few weeks. She's going for the darts and assures me she can be unbelievably enthused at the same time.

And the daily darts quote? Before we get arrested? "He's playing with an unbelievable level of methodism."

{NOTE; For anyone of a nervous disposition who may blunder into this post, please, before you call the authorities to demand the dispatch of black helicopters to have me shot, it's a work of fiction and no crows where hurt during the writing of this story, okay?}

Quote; Roseanne Barr.

"Men can read maps better than women. 'Cause only the male mind could conceive of one inch equalling a hundred miles."

No comments: