Sunday December 30, 2007
Most often I find driving through a storm in the dark a bit of a lark. An adventure, even. Generally, I love the way the wind bashes at the car and relish the lashing rain as it sweeps across the road.
So I’ve no explanation at all for the way I was terrified last night driving home along the A39 from West Quantoxhead. Something, and I really don’t know what, but something made the 14-miles trip a real trial. I turned the radio off to avoid distraction and gripped the wheel tight all the way.
Visibility was bad, particularly down at road level where streams of water seemed to be flowing and puddling on the black asphalt. At points, peering through the pouring rain in an attempt to see the next watersplash, it reminded me strongly of Sleepy Hollow nights. I didn’t really expect to come across a headless horseman but…
Anyway. The upshot of it was that I got back home into the light and warmth with real, heartfelt relief.
Dolly looked at me all stern, like, as if so say that if I insist on going out on such filthy nights I deserve everything I get.
Mayhap. She’s probably right.
I got more sympathy from my glass of wine, though, and sought the comfort of TV. Some hope. Eventually I discovered they were screening Jurassic Park III so I settled in the kitchen to watch it while cooking my dinner. I had a small minced steak pie, potatoes mashed with swede and carrot, and a little can of baked beans. Not exactly haute cuisine, not even when washed down with a very passable and cheap sauvignon blanc, but it was a darn sight better than the gunge the dinosaurs were eating.
And, so to bed.
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