Something very astonishing has happened to me this evening.
We went back to bed this afternoon in order to sleep off the remaining weariness of working peculiar taxi shifts.
I was woken up before the alarm went off by the most curious experience.
I thought that something had hit me in the face.
I felt and heard an enormous impact. It woke me up, and for a few moments I thought it was real, and started patting my face to see if it was all there.
I had obviously woken up with a jerk, because it woke Mark up as well, and he wanted to know what was the matter.
I couldn’t talk. I lay very still and frozen for more than ten minutes, wondering if perhaps I was having a stroke or something, until eventually I calmed down and could tell him about it.
By then I knew that I was perfectly all right, and that nobody had dropped a cricket bat on my head or anything, and all of my functions seemed intact.
We talked about it for a few minutes, and Mark said that perhaps something had happened to one of the children.
I had been wondering this. We thought first of Number Two Daughter, whose phone turned out to be off.
I rang Number One Daughter, in case, but she was fine and full of stories about being fit.
We knew that if anything happened to Lucy and Oliver then school would tell us, so eventually we dismissed it and started to organise ourselves for work.
A couple of hours later Number Two Daughter rang, badly shaken and in tears.
She had snowboarded into a tree.
She had hit the tree with a smack and then landed in a snow-filled hollow below the tree and the snow from the tree itself had fallen on her.
She had been buried, trapped in the fallen snow.
Fortunately eventually she was found by people who thought they heard her screaming, and was dug up again.
She did not die, but she could have done.
She was sent home from work to recover.
I had gone to work by then, and was fairly shaken myself, although relieved to hear that everything was all right.
I have no idea what conclusions you might draw from that. Feel free to draw your own. I have concluded that there is definitely something more to life than is instantly apparent, and also that it is worth keeping an eye open for trees when you are on a snowboard.
Unsurprisingly this has occupied my thoughts ever since, which is unfortunate, since it has been a pleasant day. My own parents sent us something of a very welcome financial subsidy, and after some anxious consideration we decided that under the circumstances I ought to have a haircut. We had actually decided this some time ago, but our scarce winter finances would not stretch to it, and for some weeks now I have been sporting a hairstyle that would not have looked unexpected on a nineteen seventies pop singer.
This morning I looked in the mirror and despaired, and Mark said that we had reached a moment where action should be taken, so I rang the hairdresser before we went for our walk.
It was another magnificent day, ice-clear and fresh. At the top of the fell the wind bit our fingers and noses and found our skin even through our coats and jerseys. Mark said that I was limping, and kindly offered to drive me into Kendal for my haircut, which was ace. It is nice to be able to spend all of the day together.
I am short-haired now. I like this very much.
I have also still got a complete collection of children and also an intact face.
On the whole I think I am feeling pleased with the day.
