Which means that I am unable to mow the lawn. Mysterium Facinas. Maybe I should explain. Once upon a time I took train to Cambridge. That led to a series of things I did which resulted in me getting married, having children, moving, getting divorced, meeting my second wife and going to Scotland.
Ever taken the other road? Ever feel that life's big events turn on the glib, ill-considered trifles?
Storm Clouds are gathering outside and the Liminality Nexus is in Flux.
Swine Flu? Some kid, playing in a Mexico slum didn't wash his hands after fondling a pig. Had it been three minutes earlier his mum would have called him in for tea. Perhaps the pig was feeling particularly sociable that day. And now people are ringing NHS 24 because they feel a bit shit.
All fun and games until somebody immanentises the Eschaton.
Time to open a can of Pils.
3 comments:
Go to Dales blog and listen to the piano and tell me you couldn't put excellent words to that music!
Have a wonderful weekend.
And you Strappy.
'Ever taken the other road? Ever feel that life's big events turn on the glib, ill-considered trifles?'
I should say so. About 15 years ago I found myself, then in my mid-thirties, sharing the company of a group of rather younger women of my acquaintance having an evening on the town. I was very attracted to one of them and had a better reason than my own vanity to believe that the feeling was mutual. She, another woman, and me wound up later in the night in the least noisy corner of a nightclub, communicating mostly by semaphore. But it was very hot, and the lady I hoped to hit it off with was drinking too quickly, nerves perhaps, I was nervous, I knew that. whatever the reason, she was taken suddenly smashed and in urgent need of a space in which to express her nausea which happened at the time already to be occupied by my shoes.
She was deeply embarassed. I was slightly flattered. But she insisted on leaving, and asked to be put in a taxi. The other lady and I made sure that she was. I should have gone with her, if only to make sure that she got safely to her door, and maybe with the hope that I would be asked to stay with her. But I didn't. Maybe I was scared, maybe I didn't want to risk taking advantage of her, the way I already felt about her. If that was real there would be another time, and it would be soon. It never was because the other lady and I now had only each other to talk to, drinking together in our corner. I'd hardly noticed her before but I noticed her now, fickle drunk that I was. and it wasn't just the booze. It couldn't have been because we stayed together for five years. A few fewer drinks, somewhere less hot and noisy, and it might all have been different for the three of us.
Time of life I suppose. If I'd been ten years younger, or ten years older, I would have tried to have them both.
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