I was thinking of meringues and then it started raining and the car wouldn’t start. That was one the sequences of events that will eventually make up today. A perfectly blue sky filled with puffy white clouds, reminiscent of a summer’s day, started the meringue thing which pleasant thought was extinguished by Nature emptying a bucket of water over the washing that had been hitherto enjoying a breezy, sun filled interlude on the line. We leapt to the saddle, and Jenny and I …. were soon rushing back into the house draped in flowing white linen, looking like a Klansman hotly pursued by Casper the ghost, our own spirits as dampened as our laundry. Rolling with the punch, and feeling slightly vengeful, I thought I would kill some mice to show nature that we can all be beastly. The poison cupboard was bare, however, leaving me no option but to head to the nearest Souricide outlet. Turning the key in the ignition of the car resulted in nothing but a clicking noise, not unlike the illusion of galloping horses that can be produced by clapping coconut shells together and with the same total inertia.
Time has passed and the washing has dried in the warmth of the house, the mice are saved and I have satisfied my vengeful spirit by dispassionately separating egg whites from their yolks and beating them senseless, which state is often described as stiff peaks though not in A&E departments. I never fail to be amazed at the chemistry that creates meringues nor how content it makes me feel to watch the transition take place. I still haven’t decided how to punish the car. I’ll check again at midnight to see if it’s turned into a pumpkin and then get those fucking mice to drag it to the garage.