Dark Lady was busy being a "Soccer Mom", so it was down to me to get a lot of stuff done at home. First thing was to arrange car insurance for both of us on my dad's car. He has decided that at eighty-five he doesn't feel confident enough to continue driving. So what to do with his car? To save him the hassle of selling it and the worry about people turning up on his doorstep at all hours, I have decided to buy it off him as we need a family runabout. If you have been reading this blog and listening to the show for years you will know my car "The Ford Mid-Life Crisis" (even though it’s not a Ford) only had two seats and I would rather not relinquish it. Plus, stepson Jamie is a car nut and likes to be dropped off at school in it. Stepdaughter Ella doesn't really care as long as there is a vehicle available to ferry her to and from various social engagements if necessary.
What to do with the DL's 15-year-old VW? A quick trip to the local used car lot and the man doubtless got a bargain and we got £350 in notes.
Then it was to the spare room, as energised by this successful chore and having done a load of CD filing the other weekend I attacked the large bags of CD's - eventually whittling them down to just the one. Everything else was now safely on the shelves. Whilst I was doing this I got my turntable out of storage that can burn vinyl onto CD, so some of the stuff that I don't have on CD I can now play for you on the show. Dr Strangelove the producer reckons I have now burned about six albums onto CD. Whilst I was setting it up and burning Procol Harum's "Salty Dog" album onto CD I noticed the receipt. I have had the machine since February 2011. So that works out at one CD every two months.
As a reward for all my efforts I bought the newspaper and headed for the pub. A couple of hours and a few pints later I headed out and then it happened.
It was dark. I was going from a brightly lit environment into a dimly lit street. There is one quite sizeable step down to pavement level from the pub doorway. I was looking ahead of me not down, so I didn't see a little boy dressed in black on a scooter.
I certainly felt him though as I somersaulted through the air and landed face down on the pavement. He had been hurled onto the road by the impact.
He was face down and wasn't moving.
"Are you alright?”
Silence and no movement.
I've killed him!
Silence. However, he was starting to move.
"Didn't see you. Sorry!"
He looked at me as his mother collected his scooter.
She looked at me too.
"Everything alright?” I tried again.
They hurried off into the night without a word.
I too hurried off into the night and thought ‘who's fault was that?’
Did he run into me as he wasn't looking?
Did our paths just happen to cross at just the wrong moment?
Should he have been riding on the pavement?
Should he have been riding on the pavement so close to the doorway that anyone stepping out would have had no chance of seeing and/or stopping in time?
Why did they not say anything despite my repeated enquiries?
Hmmm, wonder if I can get a whiplash claim going here. I did graze my knee and the knuckle on my right hand. That has to be worth a few quid.
Aauugghghhh, the pain, the pain!