As if Ann hadn't enough to worry about with 3 bairns she phoned me today in a panic. A magpie flew down her chimney into her livingroom causing soot, mayhem and panic - flew about, shat everywhere till eventually, they managed to get it out the window. She wanted a loan of my carpet shampooer to clean up the mess - a blessing in disguise. Housework is not one of my lovely daughter's priorities or strengths.
I wonder what my eldest son will make of it. Had he lived centuries ago he would have been the village shaman: he sees omens in small, unusual events and has a certain level of intuition that is uncanny. For instance, he can predict who will be on the phone when it rings; intuits events; has instincts about people which, once shared, seem harsh but always come true. He can spot a phoney a mile off. On occasion it makes him very intolerant - it is a family trait.
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