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Golden Voices - 30 May 2008

Josie Loftus
30/ 5/2008

WHEN I went to bed on the night of Tuesday 20 May there was nothing to suggest that the next day would be any different than any of the other days that come and go as they do when the sun rises and sets regardless of whatever is destined to happen good or bad.

Bad is the operative word here and if I’d known what was in store for me on Wednesday 21st and had any choice in the matter/s of all the things that went wrong, I think I would have tried to find somewhere to hide away until the disruptive gremlins who decide to strike unannounced have finished wreaking their havoc and moved on to someone more deserving of their damaging antics.

What gets me is they seem to know who I am and where I live and suddenly decide to let me know they’re alive and kicking and raring to go.

As usual, I spent the night tossing, turning and yawning in between reading, writing and listening to the talk programmes on the radio … and wondering why do certain birds sing during the night, mmm?

Anyway by 4.30am I threw the pillow in, so to speak, and made my way downstairs, tapped the switch on the kettle to boil the water and went into the living room and tuned in to News 24 on the television. I was vaguely aware of the dull deep sound of the boiling kettle but became engrossed in the news items, especially so about the impending match between Manchester United and Chelsea.

It was about three quarters of a kettle of water that had metamorphed into steam and had filled the kitchen and was now billowing into the living room before I realised that the automatic off switch had failed. So anyone who was passing my house at approximately 4.50am would have been excused for thinking that I was making clouds that were rushing out of my wide open windows and front door.

So, after this irritating little crisis I made my drink and prepared myself in front of my computer which was up and running quite healthily when I’d left it less that six hours previous. But not so now. Oh! no, definitely not so now because from somewhere within its electronic mind, body and wires its caught a virus and there are all sorts of animated bugs, beetles and insects crawling all over the screen and I swear I’m sure some of them are smiling as they catch my eye, ugh.

Not wanting to give these perverted little grots the satisfaction of ruining my morning, I turn the computer off, unplug everything and hope by the time I get back to it, after my doctor's appointment they will have been starved of the electricity on which they thrive and they will be dead and gone.

Doctor's appointment went okay, pharmacist actually had all of the medication I needed and as I parked my car and walked slowly along my garden path, studying and appreciating the new plants that are just opening up ready to enjoy their summer life I thought how lovely the day promised to be.

And then as I reached my front door and put my key in the lock … zilch … nothing, it wouldn’t turn, it was jammed. I tried and tried and tried again and the thing wouldn’t budge. Eventually there was nothing for it but to call for a locksmith. I knew almost instantly, in fact in my mind's eye I could see my mobile phone languishing in splendid glory bathed in a ray of sunlight on my kitchen worktop but I still searched through the debris of my bag and actually discovered a broken tin opener that I thought I’d thrown away. My son came with a spare phone and the locksmith said they would be with me within three hours.

Nothing for it, but to wait. My lovely next door neighbour, on his way out noticed me and invited me to go in and make myself a cup of tea and to wait in comfort until the cavalry arrived but I told him that with my luck they would arrive just as I turned my back and then they’d be off before I could stop them so I graciously declined and sat in the car … put the ignition key in to listen to the news and … nothing, absolutely dead as a brick. I was astounded. I couldn’t believe what was happening. There wasn’t even a flicker of life to even suggest that it had and engine.

After counting to 125 to calm my rising temper I resolved to give up on the day and settled down in the car to wait for what will probably turn out to be four hours rather than the promised three.

I don’t know about you but sometimes when certain aspects of the weather and the time and sounds of the day somehow synchronise together and are so similar to a time way back when something happened that remains deep in your memory and emerges again because everything feels exactly the same. Well, in the car, that warm, sunny, quiet Wednesday lunchtime, from nowhere I was transported back to a certain Saturday morning during the early summer of 1973. Whilst everyone was in bed enjoying their lie-in I got up and opened the curtains around the house whilst trying to dodge my way past our dog ‘Wacky’ who was desperate to be let out in the garden to relieve himself (as they do).

I think I’ve told you before that our ‘Wacky’ was a bit of a problem and this particular quiet morning he shot out the door, barking frantically whilst running like mad all over the place. Normally I would have gone after him with the mop and the brush and sort of herded him back into the house where I would have made him shut up by throwing a wet dish cloth over his head. But because it was a Saturday morning I considered the work weary neighbours and tried a different tactic. Our ‘Wacky’ was a sucker for a soft word and a bit of praise so I gently whistled and started to say what a lovely big boy he was … ‘Oooo’ … I said enticingly ‘come and see what I’ve got for you … choccy biccies, mmm, come on’.

I really thought it was working because he was no longer barking and I imagined him to be suspiciously edging up to the door (he sometimes knew I lied to him). But I knew I could always win him over with a cup of tea. Honestly it’s the truth. He loved tea and coffee and wouldn’t drink it without milk. I reached for his bowl and started to tap it gently with a spoon and really laid it on with the charm. ‘Come on big boy … come and have a nice cup of tea …’ I heard a movement which made me think that ‘Wacky’ was hiding just at the side of the house so I really upped the praise knowing he couldn’t resist a tickle and some play, ‘come on big lad, come and play and ….’

Then I heard a definite movement at the door and holding a towel wide, ready to pounce and throw it over his head whilst I dragged him inside I made those kissing noises which absolutely drove Wacky mad … then, instead of our Wacky at the door stood the milkman who was creased up trying to stifle the laughter that now bellowed out like that puppet at Blackpool Pleasure Beach. It took ages for us both to stop laughing and hours waiting for our Wacky to decide to come back home.

Wacky loved his freedom. Today he would probably have an ASBO on him for disruptive behaviour but everyone loved him and in that car last Wednesday the memory of that day made me cry with laughing.

The locksmith turned up four hours after I’d called for them and fixed my lock. The virus in my computer was isolated by an unexpected friend who decided to visit me and also fixed my kettle. Do you remember how we Catholics used to get our houses ‘blessed’. I’m beginning to think there’s something to all that now.

It’s been amazing how many of you picked up the glaring mistake I made last week when I wrote that Susan Hayward played Delilah in Samson and Delilah. The minute the first call came and said it was Hedy Lamarr I couldn’t believe I’d made such a mistake. Anyway, thanks for your calls and conversation and kind wishes.

With the shocking news of the little girl who has starved to death and her siblings who would soon have met the same premature end to their lives, it is ironic that I should write about how Sister Walker from years ago who saved the lives of some children by simple observation and duty to the children she was employed to look after.

Progress in the high offices of this country’s leaders has put much needed money into the dismantling of a structure that took years to develop into the well ordered and finely tuned society it was not so long ago.

Shame on you who give yourselves massive pay rises and enjoy luxuries on expenses while children die.