Monday, May 5, 2008

who pays the ferryman?

Not a lot to report here, we are planning on heading south this week ( I know, north is warm, south is cold, but Ness's relatives are SW of here so family ties prevail ) pending the histopathology reports on my elbow lesion and the results of Ness's throat swab. We appear to have fallen apart since we changed hemispheres to seek the healthy good life.

Meanwhile just some musings about my mother and her strange and alarming ability to predict impending death, It was always a joke as children that when Betty announced ( in her lovely Ayrshire accent ) 'Och, I thought he was dead' that within 48 hours he would be. Victims ranged from movie stars and politicians through to Alan at number 7 ( dead within 8 hours of her proclaiming that he was looking 'peaky' ) . The only known survivor was the actor Robert Morley, who appeared to possess a 'get away from Betty alive' card when he lived for almost a decade after the curse was uttered.

A few years ago we were all at home for Christmas, and mad Auntie Jean was to be collected from her nursing home on Christmas morning. Betty announced at 7 pm on Christmas Eve that we had to go and see Jean...the whole family ( who should have known better ) refused to stop eating and drinking to oblige, so Vanessa elected to go with her. Within an hour Vanessa phoned to say Jean had dropped dead mid conversation with her and Mum.

I was disconcerted to discover that I had inherited the eye of doom when I accidentally killed Geoff Hamilton over a decade ago when innocently watching 'Gardener's World' and uttered the fatal words.....'he is not a well man'. His obituary appeared in The Times the next morning. The power was latent until I accidentally polished off Peter Ustinov.

I had forgotten all about it until I spoke to Mum last week and she confessed to delivering the kiss of death to Charlton Heston. Must have kicked something off, because yesterday I was browsing the BBC Radio 4 website looking for the latest episode of ' I am Sorry I Haven't Got a Clue' and I had the thought.

RIP Humphrey Lyttleton, I am so very very sorry.

Had to send Mum a postcard today:

'The Grim Reaper's Poker Tournament':

Betty, I'll see your Charlton Heston and I'll raise you a Humphrey Lyttleton.

Hope you are all happy that I am a hemisphere you are all feeling well.

Footnote: just watched a fantastic Attenborough documentary about snakes. No surprise that he spent most of the programme in Australia. Will not divulge my thoughts, hope David has one of those Robert Morley cards.

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