Thursday, November 08, 2007

Somewhere

This morning, the sky was bruised blue yet the light was gold and true. I had dropped the boys at school,was driving home and saw an arc of splintered light as bright as I have ever seen. In London, years ago, I saw a prism, a stripe - no more, when someone I once loved, died and thought: "That gleam in this gritty dirty sky, that gleam is meant for me." Today, between the hedged gaps, we glimpsed the rainbow's fall to earth, scattering its colours in the grass. I said: "Look, look, there are two" as the other, shadowing, pastel bow appeared. The baby and I gazed content. I looked back to the road, a car approaching. I braked, swerved slightly, hit the only curb on the country lane and my tyre blew. Again. I thought: "Bloody hell. Bugger the tyre. I'm getting home this time" and drove back slowly, my road ahead, ribboned through the coloured "Welcome to Northumberland" arch.

27 comments:

Anonymous said...

And the pot of gold sat beside you.

Crystal xx

belle said...

Beautifully descriptive. Hope you made it home ok.

Anonymous said...

I love rainbows - very nice. You need to complain to someone about those tyres - you could have been hurt you know..

Swearing Mother said...

And, just think WITN, if you'd been hammering round that narrow road, not having slowed down a bit to look at the rainbow, yours and the other car could have met up a whole lot quicker and goodness knows what would have happened then. More than the tyre being damaged maybe?

Fate, mate, that's what it is.

Or is someone up there telling you to buy a Range Rover?

Whispering Walls said...

When I was deciding whether to move to San Francisco, I saw a huge rainbow over Union Square. That decided it.

Gone said...

Your having a serious number of accidents, heading for a new entry in the Guinness Book of World Records?

merry weather said...

Poetic, funny, head in the clouds, stoical - you're great... take care though!

Unknown said...

After reviewing the last two posts, I thought, "Isn't it interesting, the role we play in our own fate?" One thing at a time, perhaps? (Spoken, of course, by a person who would have done exactly the same thing...)

lady macleod said...

always look for the dark cloud before braking?

ADDY said...

And rainbows are supposed to be lucky!!

Unknown said...

So often we forget to look. Bugger the tyre, you won't remember that.

James Higham said...

I'm interested in this bruised blue. What's that look like?

Sarah said...

I'm with 'The Grocer'- ankles & tyres- are you have trouble getting somewhere? Feeling stuck?
Our car's bearings (barings? I don't know) were grinding on the passenger side- as was my right hip- due to a habit of pulling up my shoulder when feeling threatened (by anything, really, since you ask...people; dogs; loud knitwear...)
Just a thought, really.

Henry North London 2.0 said...

I once had a blowout on the Motorway at 70mph I got to the hard shoulder safely and there was a golfball sized hole in the tyre.

Was I lucky? I was... So are you...

It happens to the best of us

The Woman who Can said...

WITN, do you think the countryside is smelling your fear? Am hoping that these things are not coming in threes...

The Real Old Bill said...

My dear, you are incredibly good at describing things but for goodness sake you don't half go on about stuff. How can someone with three kids bemoan the fact that her husband has left her up north while he stays in the south? When you are clearly educated enough to make your own decisions why on earth don’t you move south again? I mean honestly, you have a theme to work from and you do write beautifully but it has reached the end of its life. I always used to read you with great interest but now all I hear is someone who can describe a scene exceptionally well but I am truly no longer interested in your life because you seem to whine a lot.

Swearing Mother said...

Whine-a-lot, Fair Cop? Didn't that used to be some sort of dog food?

merry weather said...

I think whine-a-lot is sour grapes Jane - what do you reckon?

The Draughtsman said...

Ah Northumberland, land of rainbows. At times when the conditions are right, you get a veritably display of multiple rainbows.
No rainbows in Cyprus, - no rain.

Liz said...

Dear Fair Cop; Went to your blog. Didn't like it. Stopped reading. That's what you do when you don't like something - you STOP READING. WitN doesn't whine - she moans, sometimes - with very good cause, it seems to me. Personally, I skip the sensitive, poetic posts, and enjoy the more acerbic ones. Same with the comments - a fascinating view into different kinds of temperaments - those who believe the world is a simple place with simple solutions where living happily ever after is a simple thing - I envy, but do not understand you. Funny things, blogs, very instructive sometimes

sunshine said...

I enjoy Wifey because she writes life as it comes along. The aesthetically lovely moments suddenly interrupted by a blown tire. What I find particularly nourishing is that the two, for her, are always blended -- always mutually present. I sometimes get lost in my dark clouds and forget to blink a few times and see the blue sky -- even if it is bruised.

Single Mother on the Verge said...

I've always found standing by a broken car is a very good pick-up line. Do any handsome men come along and help you out? Can you change a tyre?

A woman with the car bonnet open, looking confused with an oil stick in her hand is a very good way to attract attention.

Perhaps there is some wicked will at play here?

wife in the north said...

Read it as you will but as for me, the blog is a bit about the "where" and a lot about the "how" and indeed the "why" of life. And coffee. It's about coffee too.

Motheratlarge said...

Wifey, your writing often makes me feel better about my own life - the domestic side of it - especially when you're describing difficulties. Then I know I'm not alone when things go wrong with expensive cookers I've just bought without my husband's full approval, or choux pastry, losing the car keys, feeling lonely or worrying about dangerous traffic near the house. You make me feel it's okay to get upset by these things. And let's face, we most of us do at some point. And then it's okay to have a laugh about it. So thank you. I enjoyed reading about the rainbow. And I hope you all got home okay and the car is alright.

Anonymous said...

Hi Wifey

I like reading your blog because even I do not do as many silly things as you - but all that 'poetic descriptions' malarkey could be cut out and you could concentrate on the slap stick element? This is just a tip from one writer to another - what do you think?

Don't forget the tin of 'Brasso' this weekend - every thing does need a polish!

Liz said...

Was that meant to be irony, Mr. Mutley? Chacun a son gout, in my opinion. It is clear that we all read this blog for different reasons, and enjoy different aspects. Wife writes well and makes her life generally very entertaining, as a writer in this medium should. But me, when I want poetic prose, I think there are better places to find it - and I do, and then I come back to this for something else - I think in my case a "slice of life" as chaotic as my own, and a nice sense of humour.

Anonymous said...

I do not think anyone wants any tips from me Liz...