If you have not visited our home, then I will need to explain. In the lounge there is a stable door leading out the back with a metal security gate and a large glass sliding door leading out to the front verandah, also with a metal security gate. In summer we tend to leave both doors open to catch a cool breeze. One evening I had gone to bed earlier and Ian had watched some more TV before battening down the hatches for the night. His routine included switching off TV and lights, closing the back door and front sliding door, setting the alarm and wandering off to bed.
The next morning our "Estate Engineer" was cleaning the front verandah when he spotted something and became very agitated. He excitedly pointed at the bottom of the sliding door and most curious we went to investigate. Imagine our surprise when we found a rather big rinkhals (ring-necked spitting cobra) with his head neatly jammed in the doorway. Thankfully he was very, very dead but this time I allowed myself to consider what had happened: Ian, wandering around the lounge in bare feet approached the sliding door as the rinkhals decided to pop in for a visit. Blissfully unaware of the slithery visitor, Ian closed the sliding door, neatly capturing its head between the door and the jamb and continued with his routine - not realising what had happened until the following morning!!!
It seemed rather ridiculous to have a meltdown 12 hours AFTER the incident but I admit to a case of the rattles while Ian remained totally unphased by the entire incident. EISH!!
Jesse, our weimaraner, also doubles as our own guardian angel - two short sharp barks is her way of telling us that there is a snake in the vacinity of the house!
As time goes by, I have often found that the strangest and unlikely people do something so extraordinary and remarkable that at the time of any given event you don't realise it till much, much later. For example, I was involved in a car accident on the Messina road while still working for Avis Rent-a-Car many years ago. The vehicle was not going anywhere and I seemed to be the biggest wimp this side of the equator as I kept fainting. A small Datsun bakkie with an elderly couple pulled up and my friends asked that they take me to hospital. The entire journey (about 70km) the lady prayed very loudly for my speedy recovery, showering me with blessings of strength and endurance. I never found out who they were but I am convinced that the only injury I suffered was a light concussion and a broken bone in my hand was largely due to her heroic efforts.
There is a beautiful poem called Reason, Season, Lifetime (unknown author) about why people are brought into your life and the lessons you are supposed to learn from them. One person in particular comes to mind whenever I read this poem and remember a magnificent thing that he did for me many, many years ago.
If you have never lived in a small town, you have no idea what it is like being an unmarried mother in such an environment. It is harsh and people treat you as if being pregnant is contagious (umm I suppose it is in a way *lol*) and at times you feel like a pariah. I had given birth to my son 3 months before the major social event of the year which was the Spring Ball and under the circumstances had no thought of going.
The most gorgeous Tom Selleck look-alike in town at the time was a young tall, dark and VERY handsome man in the police and every female in town under 60 was absolutely smitten with him. Much to my amazement he asked ME to go to the ball with him. I thought he was nuts and stupid and told him so in no uncertain terms. He was then very sneaky and spoke to my Mom, who being most impressed with his fine manners, joined forces with him to convince me to go.Wearing a full-flared strapless and sequined dress my mother had worn to the VJ Ball in Simonstown in the 1940's we arrived at the venue. I was terrified and balked at the idea of entering that crowded venue and in spite of the elaborate gown, felt quite naked.
He was not in the least impressed with my pathetic demeanor and demanded that I walk up straight and smile while we walked the entire length of the hall to his friends seated at a table right at the back. There was a moment of hushed horror as people realised who his date was and then the clamoring built as the WTF's (or similar) reached a crescendo only drowned out by the band starting to play. Without breaking his stride, my hero swung me into a waltz and we, without an invitation or announcement, opened the dance floor.
I don't remember much of that night but I always remember the effect his behaviour had on me. It did not matter what people thought, I was not as bad as all that and I could still hold my head held high - he simply gave me back my dignity and self-respect and a part of me remains grateful to this day.
Shortly after that evening, I found a job in another town and we lost touch when I left. I recently met up with someone from that time who told me that he had been in a microlight accident and had suffered some head injuries which left him very little of his former self.
The news was a tremendous shock and I can only hope that wherever he is and whatever he is doing, he is being cared for and loved because he paid it forward many many years ago. And in my universe he remains a hero.
