I guess it wasn't what I thought it was.

Things or people change behavior in my dreams all the time.

I try to deal with it.

In real life too

Yeh, true.

Part 1.

My wife went into labour two weeks earlier than expected, so when the Ambulance arrived, she was still in a state of panic, gathering things together that she would need for the hospital.
The ambulance men took one look at her and said that she had to go immediately, so by the time I had got home, she had gone.
I immediately went back to our old heap of a car and found that the bloody thing wouldn't start, so I tried contacting a few neighbours and friends without success and ended up going to the hospital by bus.

Twelve hours later our son was born, and after a short while I was told to bugger off home and let my wife have some rest. Upon emerging from the hospital (2am), I found that it had been snowing and there was now a full moon, illuminating the now silent roads.
I now realised several things. I had no money on me, I was only dressed in T Shirt and jeans, and there was the fine prospect of a five mile walk home.

About a mile into the journey, on the edge of town, the road crossed a small river, and as I walked along the path, I looked down to the river and had one of those awful moments when the hair ACTUALLY moves on the back of one's head......

Part 2......

My heart was pounding as I tried to focus on the river bank.

Yes, it was definitely a naked, female corpse lying in the foetal position about three feet away from the river. The moon was quite bright, so visibility was good. I moved along the bridge so I was directly overhead and looked again. It was a young girl lying there. Dead.

Christ, what do I do now? I ran around in a frantic hope of finding a phone box, or a passing car. Nobody around, no phone box, nothing.
I then suddenly realised the dilemma I faced. What if they thought that I had done it? What if it had only just happened and the murderer was still in the area?
There had been a spate of attacks not long before, and I remember that women were being warned not to go out alone. I have never felt such sick panic in all my life.

I walked back to the bridge and quite terrified, slowly peered over the edge again. She was still there. I was looking around the immediate area of the riverbank when my eye caught some movement. I immediately looked back at the body and saw that it was twitching.

I made up my mind to climb over the railings and go down to help, but my legs had other ideas. I ran.....simple as that....for about fifty yards.

When I had worn myself out, some rational thought got through to my legs, and convinced them to go back and help the poor girl.

I got back to the bridge, and very slowly looked over the edge again. I was sorely in need of a new pair of trousers..............

Part 3.

Trying to control the adrenaline rush, I again focused on the body.....still twitching.
For some totally stupid reason, I shouted out "Are you alright?" ....
Of course she's not alright, I thought.....she's laying naked on a riverbank at 2am, in the f*kkin' snow!

One of her legs moved when I shouted....not just a twitch, a definite movement, coming to rest on the bank about six inches from its starting position. This caused me to experience another small bowel movement.

I took a deep breath and climbed the railings. I had just reached the straddling position when the leg moved again, this time right up in the air.

The swan then stood up, shook itself, and waddled off.

Oh god, if there was ever a time that I wanted a gun!!





postscript......I continued on the walk, quite shaken up.....it had been a bit of a day, all in all.
About 400 yards from my home, absolutely frozen and dog tired, a police car stopped and asked what I was doing out at that time. They took pity on me after hearing my story and gave me a lift the rest of the way.

Where were they about four miles ago?, I wondered.

Funny what you see and don't see. Solveig (my ex) and I were driving into town one day when she pointed to a small red sports car driven by a pretty blonde. As I looked she asked why she would have a license plate that said idiot. I told her it didn't. It said I do it and I'm sure it was true.

Actually Gus probably wanted to take advantage of the situation. Dog, Gus and solitude

Damn, Lord, thats quite a story.

An excerpt from my India diary... some of you have read it already...

Jasmine and Hillel are packing up, they are leaving early in the morning. Hillel to New Delhi where we'll join him a day later, Jasmine is going home, for she's leaving to go to a Sikh camp in British Columbia, of all places. We have another five minutes of Before Sunset in bed. I'm thinking I'll never finish this movie in my life.
Suddenly we hear a yell: "Jaasmiiiine! Daaaaashaaaaaaa!" That would be David, returning into his room. We sprint over there.
"There's this white thing over there. Look! I saw it crawling on the window, then it jumped on Hillel's suitcase and there it's sitting right there, on his shirt!"
We look, quite skeptically at first. What the hell is that? It's white, it looks almost like a jelly-fish, but how the hell would it get into the midst of a rain forest. It doesn't move, probably startled by the light. Being extremely brave and street-smart, I come closer. I see six or eight legs - it is a giant spider, size of a tarantula! But white. It's an albino tarantula! We shriek and run out of the room. What do we do? Do we dare to capture it? David doesn't, I'm more than hesitant. But then if we don't, what will it do? It can kill us all overnight. We look around. There is an empty waste basket that might do the trick, provided that the albino tarantula doesn't move. We make a battle plan. It involves the waste basket and Jasmine. She's Indian by birth - so she's a logical choice, and she's also the least frightened. We all approach the tarantula cautiously. It's still there, pretending to be dead or something. Jasmine hurls the waste basket over the monster. It's trapped! We're alive! We win! Now we have to get it away from Hillel's shirt somehow. My turn. Wearily I move the basket, dreading the moment when the mini Odula starts scuttling about. It doesn't. I notice it leaves small white traces as I move it with the basket. Am I injuring the thing? The traces look very much like…pieces of….napkin or something…
I have a sudden flashback to this morning. Three women came around to clean the guesthouse. They were washing windows, among other things. With white paper towels that, when damp, can look a lot like albino tarantulas. Especially if you happen to be a hysterical Westerner. I take the basket off and grab the thing with my hand. David shrieks. I explain what just happened. "There can be a spider INSIDE!" he maintains. Well, I can't argue with that, but none emerged even after a close scrutiny. Not among the bravest moments in my life, but certainly among the funniest. Funny how the mind works. It's white, it's scary, it must be an albino tarantula, but of course. What could possibly be more logical?


Here, I took the picture of the monster:

The other night two of my friends and I went into Boston and went to a club... When we left we got lost on the way home and ended up on the Border of NH... (I live south of boston, ugh)... anywho... so my two friends are pretty damn drunk and they both need to pee... so I pull onto a side street and they both choose a lawn to pee on... (one is a girl and one is a guy... if anyone came driving down the street they would have pissed themselves from laughing).... so my guy friend just hops out of the car and pisses right there and he looks down and he starts talking about how a rabbit is sitting there watching him.... so my other drunk friend pulls up her pants and comes running over.... now they are both looking at this rabbitt....so I get out of the car.... yup it was a trash bag.... they were both convinced the rabbit was watching them....

You ended up in NH??? How?

You know you live south, why didn't you head south? 93 south takes you right into the south shore.

We went to Avalon... and I had never been there before... and we went the wrong way on Mass Ave. going home... They were both drunk and unable to give me the correct directions... and it was my first time on lansdown street.... I try to stick with my area.... what should have been a 15 minute drive home took us almost 2 hours...

Yup I hate Boston cuz of all the one ways... but it was actually fun getting lost like that.... but everytime I turned around I got more lost and there was no freaking signs for the highway..Errr

Boston can be tough to navigate around. And there really isn't a highway right there either.

It's ok...I got semi-lost last weekend in Boston. Except I didn't end up in another state.

Back on topic. One time I went hunting, and shot what I thought was a deer. It turned out to be an old lady on the porch of her nursing home, which I thought to be a bunch of trees.

You are the one that shot my friends grandmother.... WHY I OTTA

YOU OTTA....? Do what? Bring it, little woman.

Hey Boston Ain't that Big Slappy, I can Find ya... wait I can't even find my way outta Boston, nevermind.....

Someday Slappy, Someday... and I ain't no little woman....

Hey hey Slappy yer gonna let her talk to ya like that hey Slappy are ya?

I think he likes it when women slap him around....

I'll let a woman slap me around...if she pays me enough.

Nimh, I'll let Crazie talk to me like that. Sometimes it's fun to let women think they have the upper hand. Pun intended.