Wee Scoops

Measure for Measure

Staving off Christmas

I had visions of a lovely festive shopping trip – escaping the lashing sleet; parking early at John Lewis; sending thoughtful purchases for friends and relatives down to customer collection; taking myself for an overpriced scone and butter, and then heading home all set for a Christmassy night out with the children.

I got about one minute out of the village when a scary warning light started to flash on the dash display thing, so I came off the main road and called the AA.

It wasn’t a good warning light to be flashing, the man assured me. Either I had a leak of water, a leak of coolant or both.

After further investigation it transpired that I had neither leak – which was a good thing – but the car was delusional and thought it had leaks, and so was compensating for a lack of coolant or water – or both, in fact –  and having a wee moment to itself. It’s all confused and upset by the weather, or something…

So, Christmas shopping: postponed…

Skipping a lot of details, later that night I arrive at the theatre (in a borrowed car) with my children to go and see a pantomime. I was wandering vacantly in the bar area, looking at the “art” for sale on the walls, thinking ‘I-can-do-that’, having sent the kids off to see what they could get out of the machine in the way of chocolate. They bounded into the bar and I sat down on the green bench, ready to receive whatever Minstrels they were going to give me.

The green bench, however, wasn’t there! It was, well, more of a SPACE between two green benches…

Down I smacked on my back, feet to the air, managing to crush my hand in a kind of defying-the-laws-of-nature-way. I raised my hand quivering before me – in the style of Marty McFly in the first Back to the Future movie, when he has pretty much erased himself from existence – and it was all kind of … pale, backwards and flat… and making me feel kind of sick…

When I realised that no one but the children had seen me, I shook myself off, took myself to the bar, ordered myself a water  – and plunged my hand into the pint glass and tried not to vomit or pass out.


Eventually I traded in the pint glass for an actual ice-pack and spent the panto chillin’.

So saying, today it is not too bad- nothing broken. I can still type, clearly – although I am giving the violin a rest for a week.

So, much as I despise narrative and much as I object to moaners in the face of reality with its actual problems – that was my fail-day this week.

I got my car back today also. It was all thingmy again. Then I took it back again. Then I went to get it again. I think it is working now.

Unlike my left hand.


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12 thoughts on “Staving off Christmas

  1. This is exactly what blogs are for, you poor thing. I felt your pain while I was reading. I’m glad that you didn’t vomit or pass out. I’m also having car trouble, hopefully it will be repaired in a few days. Happy Christmas to us and our cars.

  2. Oh no! Are you sure your hand isn’t broken?

  3. I laughed whn i read this – not that i didn’t feel really sorry for you, because I did – but because I could envision just how you plunked down on the bench to find there was nothing to brake your fall until you hit the floor… You may despise narratives, but you’re very, very good at it!

  4. theotheri on said:

    As Van Morrison said “My Mama told me there’d be days like this.”

    Ditto: you may despise narratives but your take on them helps the rest of us get through ours. And you’re very good at it!

  5. Ouch, your poor hand! That sounds painful.
    I was sustained on my recent Christmas shopping trip, in John Lewis, by a fruit scone and butter and a latte. Very nice it was too. 🙂

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