The one where my hat blows off

Oh, blast karma and all its repercussions. Having been very bad last week, I make amends by Doing Good Things but it doesn’t seem to help. My good deed is to rescue someone’s phone as it lies forlornly in the middle of the road. Luckily it hasn’t been squashed and I slip it into my pocket with the intention of going through its contacts in order to locate the owner. When I get home I find that it is sensibly password protected which means I will have to take it to the police station in the morning. Sometime in the afternoon, the lost phone rings and I find I am speaking to its owner. She agrees to come to the house the following day to collect it. In the evening, we go to meet friends at a local Indian restaurant. We used to throw lavish dinners for friends on the Saturday before Christmas with every course specially sourced, from the smoked salmon at the beginning to the specialist chocolates at the end. Sometimes they were vegetarian extravaganzas, sometimes they were carnivorous feasts and sometimes it was a bit of both. After last year’s trials, we did not throw a dinner as I was just getting over my final chemotherapy treatment. This year we decide to go out with friends and very lovely it is, too. The restaurant is bustling and we receive very good service and excellent food amongst some of our most beloved friends. The waiter even gives us a Christmas card each and no-one says Bah Humbug!

On Sunday, the lady of the phone comes to the door and I hand it over with a smile while she is extremely grateful and insists on giving me chocolates to say thanks. I am just glad to reunite them as I know if I lost my phone, I would feel bereft as it contains so much information. Having done A Good Thing, I am hopeful that karmic balance will have been restored, but no. The parcel we sent to Miss Mason in Thailand has not arrived. Mr Mason calls the Post Office who are tracking it internationally and to whom he has paid an extravagant amount. I am Skyping with Miss Mason when I hear him swear loudly and slam the phone down. It appears our parcel has been sitting in Belfast for the last week, neither going to Bangkok nor coming back to London. I now have to go and get a special form. We are not sure whether we will get the parcel back or whether we have to claim insurance for its contents and start all over again. This is very bad news as we know it is already difficult to have Christmas in a hot country while the rest of the family sits by the fire opening Christmas presents. I gear myself to go to the Post Office and get the said form. To quote, the weather outside is frightful. It rains hard and the wind blows so that it whistles through the front door but I have to go out. I get soaked and the wind blows so hard it blows my hat off. Luckily I catch it before it blows away. At this point, Miss Mason will be sorry as she thinks the said rain hat makes me look mad but I am glad I caught it.

At what point will Karma be satisfied? How many more bad things will happen before things become equal again? I shall obviously have to be on my very best behaviour rather than my usual Minnie the Minx persona as my friend Ms Marsden calls it. With this in mind, here is a festive photo to warm your hearts.

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Dog is rather unhappy with the placing of the tree as in order to put it in the bay, we have to move his bed a few inches to the left which is not good, according to Dog rules. It does allow him, however, to take full advantage of the fire when it is lit.

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Leaving you with that image, I would like to wish you all a very happy Christmas, no matter which corner of the globe you find yourselves in and I look forward to sharing more exploits with you in the new year.

4 thoughts on “The one where my hat blows off

  1. only just catching up with the backlog from xmas and the new year, what memories you evoked of the lavish dinner parties. I remember Jon wore his father’s top hat and carried his cane, we girls wore elbow length gloves (where on earth did we get them from?) and the dresses were worthy of Yves St Laurent – must have gone to a jumble sale, they don’t make them like that any more. Went on a murder mystery event at New Year and had to dress as our favourite love song. The winning couple wore snorkel, goggles and wet suit (lady), gent wore a balaclava, duvet jacket, bigs boots and carried a coiled rope. The song? River deep and Mountain high. I just put on my liquorice allsorts earrings and bracelet and carried a sherbet dip – song? Oh how sweet is it to be loved by you. We could do an evening’s murder mystery sometime – when you are in a different frame of mind or things might take an unexpected turn. ciao Margaret

    • I remember that evening well, although how I do is still a mystery. Jon did, indeed, wear his top hat and I believe I have a photo somewhere of him holding a very large Sabatier knife to his wife’s throat as we all agreed he looked rather sinister. Love to hear about your dressing up adventures, too. xxx

  2. I’m not in the least bit surprised, Mo. At least it turned out well for you! I think we’ve assumed we could post the same as if we were travelling on the flight ourselves and that’s where it’s all gone wrong. Oh well, it will sort itself out in due course. Have a great Christmas and lots of love to you and Jim xxx

  3. Hey, Ho Shelley such is life. we had a problem with a hamper we sent our daughter and family a couple of years ago. I ordered it on line but it wouldn’t let me put a different address for deliver so I phoned up and did it that way, a week later we had a hamper delivered to us. I duly phoned up and told them what
    had happened, a new delivery was arranged to my daughter in Slough, you’ve guessed it one week later we had another hamper delivered to us I phoned up and cancelled the delivery they credited us and told us to keep the two hampers! We gave one for the Xmas raffle held in the building, took what we wanted out the other one and gave the rest away. These things never go smoothly do they. Anyway have a great Christmas both of you and take care of yourself, don’t over do it! xx

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