The everyday blog of Richard Bartle.
RSS feeds: v0.91; v1.0 (RDF); v2.0; Atom.
Previous entry. Next entry.
6:46pm on Thursday, 12th March, 2009:
I was driving with my younger daughter to visit my mother for breakfast this morning, when suddenly this refuse truck shot out of a farm exit and got in front of us, whereupon it immediately slowed to a crawl.
My younger daughter wasn't pleased, and did some kind of WHMMMMMMMMM IZAAH! thing. She then announced that it was OK, it would be turning right.
Sure enough, it did take the next right turn. Unfortunately, so did we — she thought we were going to go left.
Undaunted, she said she'd make it pull over.
"How?" I asked.
"I'll make the driver's leg hurt", she replied.
Thereupon, the lorry stopped and the driver got out to mess about with some control at the back. He had a very pronounced limp.
My daughter wasn't fazed at all — it was as if she'd merely flicked a switch on the wall and the light had come on.
She's not the only daughter who can do this kind of thing. For the 1999 eclipse, we were looking at a sky full of cloud 10 minutes before the sun was due to disappear behind the moon, and my elder daughter announced that she was going to clear a patch so we could see what was going on. Now I knew at the time that sometimes the cooling effects of an eclipse can punch a hole in clouds, but they can't just clear a circle a metre in diameter at arm's length. Almost no-one in Cornwall actually saw the eclipse that day because of the cloud, but those of us in Perranporth had a completely unobstructed view.
I blame my wife and her habit of uncannily persuading traffic lights to be on green for her.
About this blog.
Copyright © 2009 Richard Bartle (firstname.lastname@example.org).