lifes-a-bitch

I was once mistaken for a man.

I was on a bike ride down in Kent with Hubby and all 4 children. It was quite cold, so we were all muffled up in jeans, thick ski jackets, gloves and warm woolly hats. We cycled through a village, single file, as the street was quite narrow. Hubby was in the lead with the four kids following, and I was last, keeping a weather eye out to make sure the children were all cycling safely. There was a car parked at the kerb ahead, and Hubby pulled out to cycle past it and the children followed. Just as I was also passing it the door suddenly opened, and knocked me off my bike. I wasn't hurt badly, just a bit bruised and shaken, but the old chap that had opened the door added insult to injury by saying "Sorry sir, I didn't see you" Well I just saw red when he said that, so I'm afraid I said very loudly "I'M NOT EXACTLY INVISIBLE IN THIS" (indicating my bright purple ski jacket) "AND IF YOU CAN'T TELL THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A MAN AND A WOMAN AT THIS DISTANCE I THINK YOU NEED TO GO TO THE OPTICIANS IMMEDIATELY"

Needless to say, Hubby and kids never let me live it down, and still call me "Sir" sometimes when they want to wind me up....Well, I mean....I'm well aware I'm not the most beautiful woman on the planet....but I didn't think I was that bad....

So now you know

No 1 was the lie - I actually passed my driving test first time! (but I did need to have a lesson for every year of my age before my instructor considered I was ready to take it)

I once found a live goldfish flapping around in the fireplace of my bedsit. It was in the summer of 1962, and I had put twists of paper in the grate to catch any small soot falls that might come down the chimney. I was woken up just after dawn by the sound of newspaper sort of crackling from the direction of the fireplace. When I investigated there was a large rather sooty goldfish flapping around on top of the newspaper! I scooped it up and plonked it in the sink and ran some water for it. Understandably I just couldn't figure out how it had got there. Later after getting dressed I went round to the local pet shop for a bowl to put it in, and told the guy behind the counter what had happened. He reckoned that the probable explanation was that a heron had caught it in a local garden pond, and decided to carry it to the top of my chimney stack to eat. He said that they like to swallow fish head-first, and that it had probably dropped it as it was juggling it about in it's beak. I bought some fish food and got a bit of advice on goldfish keeping, and "Sooty" survived for a couple of years after his(her?) ordeal

Next revelation will follow in due course