Wednesday, January 26, 2005
Screams, Screeches And Shrieks!
The high pitch scream could have woken the dead from their murky graves. I was pulled – nae yanked – from a wonderful dream, into a hard reality at precisely 7.09am by Laura at her loudest and most high-pitched scream. The frantic sound of her feet banging on the floor of her room provided a subtle bass to her operatic shrieking. Naturally, I feared the worst.
Our duvet cover leapt into the air like a flying carpet and hovered, while both my legs and Gail’s did a Scooby-Doo type floating scamper (as displayed by Shaggy running away from a ghost). We then shot for the door of the bedroom to get to Laura, all the while Gail screamed, “I’m coming, I’m coming!” The fear - evident by her tear-jerking shouts for her daughter –was evident in Gail, as it was in me.
But what was causing the panic? Laura had been up for around half an hour and was watching cartoons. I remembered this after the event. So why the frantic screaming and banging? Had she electrocuted herself? Had the roof fallen in on her? Had a burglar broke in through her bedroom window? Had I been a farmer in Wiltshire, my sawn off shotgun would already have been loaded and primed before I even got to the bedroom door.
Suddenly, our bedroom door crashed in and Laura belted straight into Mummy’s arms. She was panic-stricken. So too was Gail. I was confused as to what exactly had happened. There were tears and screams of, “I’m never going back into my room!”
Why?
A spider no bigger than a fingernail, had stupidly wandered across Laura’s bed sheet on its way to a dark corner somewhere, and the promise of a better life. Carelessly, the unassuming arachnid had wandered into the lion’s den.
When I found it, the poor thing had already suffered a major cardiac event, the trauma from which killed it outright.
By the time my own heart stopped trying to break through my rib cage, I was on my way home from work.
Work itself was hectic. I am taking a holiday in February – partly to use up my allocation before the new holiday year, and partly to save money on Laura’s out of school club. This means I won’t be in the office from February 10th to 21st inclusive. I can’t say I am going to miss the place, but there is loads I am planning for that time.
More on that later. The point is it leaves me – or rather my boss - with a problem, because a project I have been given to do is now under pressure to deliver by then. I am not sweating over it. He is. The upshot is I am going to have to work over the next week and a half to try and get it delivered, which means less time to do rewarding work, as detailed in my GDR 2005.
In fact no writing was done today, other than starting work on a new poem. It is very rough and nowhere near ready, but I do hope to have it complete for the end of the month.
I gave myself some tough challenges; both in the type and amount of writing I thought I could do during January. I have surprised myself with what I have achieved so far and it looks like I am going to do it – plus a bit extra.
Snooker was fine despite getting beat 6-3. I couldn’t concentrate on the game for all the things in my head, but I never used that as an excuse. I told Ian it was all part of my plan to give something back to the community under the Help The Aged scheme. He was not impressed.
I couldn’t get the house move out of my mind. All the things still to do listing themselves down one side of my brain, and on the other all the freelance work I have on, fiction work for my GDR and I have also been approached to do a website for a New York based musician. Add Jackie into the mix, talking to me and telling me he has been standing in ‘a certain place’ in Edinburgh for too long now, as well as Gerry Steele – the protagonist in the short story I wrote earlier in the week. So much to do!
It’s the life I want and I love it!
2 Comments:
Except while she screams she does a little dance I like to call the "Spider Dance." It's quite hilarious.
:-)
