It's Like Thunder...Lightning!
This was not the best of nights to resume my Five Hundred Mile Diet.
"Strange how dark it is out there," I said to Mrs Z, as I stepped out of the front door clad in one of those flimsy jackets you usually see people wearing as they're being airlifted off Scottish mountains. The same people who think flip-flop sandals and a waterproof iPod constitute outdoor equipment. Yet I had been inspired to get back on the road after my mile-long run yesterday. Well, that and my striking resemblance to John Prescott in those photographs.
I had been walking for about five minutes when I saw the first flash of lightning and, a few moments later, heard the heavy rumble of thunder. It sounded like someone tipping masonry out of a skip. Suddenly the street lights flicked on and three screaming teenage girls came rushing past me. It wasn't raining yet, so I soldiered on up the hill trying to remember the correct advice for surviving an electrical storm. Should I shelter under a tree or try to fly a kite with a brass key tied to the string? I remembered some vague warning about not using electrical equipment. Mrs Z is a research scientist by trade so I gave her a call on the mobile. She muttered something about me not having enough sense to come in out of the rain, but I couldn't catch the rest of what she said. There was a tremendous crackle on the line.
Then it started to rain. Big walloping globules and then hailstones. I ran for cover and found myself under the canopy of a local off-licence where I was joined by two young gents who were engaged in a lively discussion about fiscal matters and the retail availability of apple-based alcohol. That is to say they were pooling their loose change and daring each other to go into the shop and buy cider. Fearing they might strike up a conversation with me, I made ready with a joke I had heard Tam Cowan tell on Off The Ball tonight. It involved a travelling circus which was struggling to make ends meet:
"So," said Tam, "the nervous circus manager calls a meeting and breaks the bad news to all the perfomers. 'Times are bad and I'm afraid the only people who wont lose their jobs are the Strong Man and the Knife-Thrower'."
Well it made me laugh. In any case there was a lull in the downpour and I made a dash for home. My loving family were gathered at the front door.
"Take those mucky shoes off before you come into the kitchen," said Mrs Z . I knew this was her way of saying how relieved she was that I had survived exposure to the elements.
Later, I huddled on the couch with the Zedettes in a heartwarming domestic scene that resembled that bit in The Sound of Music when Julie Andrews sings about her Favourite Things. I tried to recite the words of that song but couldn't remember what was on Julie's list after "brown paper packages tied up with strings".
Was there something about cider?
