I finally got round to fabricating an eye patch for One-Eyed Will the Pirate Bear. He now sits with Trefor the other roadside stray I have collected whilst on my travels.
Trefor was relatively unharmed when I adopted him, even though he got lost twice, but Will (who I might rename to Cotton-Eye Joe due to more recent events that I shall go into in a moment), Will had lost an eye (almost two), and is missing a paw. He also needed a bath. Hence the eye patch; I still need to make him a hook.
The reason for Cotton-Eye Joe is because I found myself singing “Where did you come from, where did you go? Where did you [get my], Cotton-Eye Joe?” (lyrics to the song by Rednex) as I was hunting for the reel of cotton for the eye patch (I never did find it and have used a paper-clip to hold things together for the time-being). Then I headed off to my sister’s house for our usual Sunday lunch, passing wind-blown, yet oblivious to the wind, sheeps (calmly eating their grass while I battle on past on my bike, being battered by icy rain). More on wind blown sheep in a moment.
At my sister’s house, as we were preparing the food, my niece, at random (i.e. with no prompting from me or any mention of eye-patch-fabrication) started playing the Cotton-Eye Joe song from her tablet. I laughed and explained the coincidence to my sister; the song being in the charts when we were in our teens, and I’m embarrassed to admit (and so I didn’t remind her) we danced to it with a silly kind of line-dancing jig when we were on a family holiday to Centre Parcs and attending a disco there. Embarrassing times.
After lunch my sister and I watched another episode of Lost in Space. This episode saved its silly plottedness right up until the last moment; each episode, of this second series at least, seems to have a cobbled-together plot line, seemingly devised by a child that makes something up just to make something look cool (like using wheeled vehicles to save a space craft from falling off a cliff), or enable one thing to lead to another. In this episode everyone was needing to leave the planet they were on but the main craft/space station was preparing to leave without everyone. Suddenly the Robinson Family look out of the window of their craft, and there in the sky they see another planet (about as clear as our moon) that turns out to be the ideal place for them to get to. How-friggin’-convenient; like they hadn’t noticed it before. There was something synchronicitious about this episode though, in that I have been reading a book by David Icke, who if you don’t know is all about lizard people, claiming the royal family are actually a shape-shifting alien reptilian race. He also goes on to explain in this particular book that at the centre of our brains is a reptilian part, existing there for aeons throughout our evolution. These two things seem somewhat contradictory; that ‘people’ like the royal family are reptilians and that we also have “reptilian tendencies” due to this part of our brain. Anyway, this particular episode of Lost in Space also mentioned this reptilian part of the brain – I’m not really sure why that was slipped in there, I was too busy looking out for the plot hole we were about to find ourselves falling into.
Those “winded” sheeps by the way… well I mentioned those to a friend later who brought up the topic of the windy weather we were experiencing. I joked and suggested they had likely been blown from one field to another (I was imagining a scene from Shaun the Sheep) and that there would be some angry farmers later.
Today on the radio one caller to the Jeremy Vine show told of how she adopted a chicken in the winds due to it being blown into her garden; its previous owners giving up on trying to catch her (I think she said the chicken was black and white, which as Icke will tell you, is a Masonic thing, so perhaps the chicken was planted there by the Reptilians). Then, as I was returning from a ride round the block a short while later, I came across a couple of wayward sheeps and a small pony. It’s not uncommon for the naughty sheeps go seeking greener grass around here (or perhaps they had been blown out of their field), but the pony was an amusing find. I questioned why it was out in the road and it promptly took itself off up a nearby driveway, the sheep obligingly following on behind. Perhaps someone just adopted two sheep and a pony.
Other recent weird occurrences include, buying milk in one shop only find it wont scan at the till and another having to be fetched. It was reduced-priced, and for all of 12p or whatever it was, seemed like quite a faff. Then in the next shop I was buying car shampoo, and from picking the one I wanted off the shelf, to getting to the till to pay for it, it managed to lose its price label, so I had to rush back to the shelf to get another. It was weird that that happened in both the shops I went into. Sometimes I wonder if things like that are trying to tell me something, like “you shouldn’t be buying those things”, or the delay is important, like some kind of Mail Box movie where the character’s fate is changed and a life saved due to some random delay.
One morning last week I was approaching one usual junction on my bicycle and a motorist just thought they’d pull out without looking, or rather, looked as they were continuing on without stopping, when, with that particular junction, not stopping is blatant stupidity. They kindly stopped in the middle of the road and let me past. Then, approaching the next junction where it was my turn to stop, I almost didn’t. It was one of these junctions where most people are turning into the road, rather than carrying on past, but I didn’t hear any vehicle and only saw them at the last moment (I always prepare to stop but at the same time I try and carry as much speed as I’m under the assumption that no one will be coming that I need to stop for). Because it turned out they were continuing on past the front of me I anchored on the brakes to pull up sharp, causing them to do a little swerve. It was like a case of, what I shall term, Reverse Karma, however that is supposed to work.