There are times I seem to float in a state of cosmic reality all of my own.
Well, cosmic reality might be a bit strong, but something close to it anyway.
I remember two cases where I was pulled down from this heavenly experience in a very brutal manner. The first case happened when I was going to do the dishes. I was filling the sink with hot water and I thought while this sink is filling up, I can lock the back door and then something caught my attention, so I fixed that, did some re-arranging and then something snapped in my brain.
I ran to the kitchen and immediately got wet feet. That was the first shock, then I looked at the half inch of water on the kitchen floor and if that was not enough, I saw the water flowing into the heating duct. My feeling of being one with the cosmos disappeared at once and turned into a recognition of the plight that had befallen me.
My first thought was turn the tap off and then I am going to buy me a bottle of whiskey.
On second thought better no whiskey because if she sees this mess and me standing in it slurring my words while swaying to and fro, all her womanly wrath will befall me.
I was on my way getting mop and pail, wet vacuum cleaner and so on when the heating system came on. I thought oh well a bit of heat will improve the situation.
Alas, as some time progressed the heating ducts began to steam at first a little bit and than the house began to look and feel like an old sauna.
At this point the martyrdom of St Hubertus was in full swing.
By the time my dearly beloved came home the worst of the catastrophe was under control but by no means finished far enough to hide that something had desperately gone wrong.
After the first blast I reminded my dearly beloved that a person who does not make mistakes does not work. Unfortunately this bit of wisdom did not sink in too well.
A couple of hours later things were under control and our marriage had survived another little bump.
The other brutal change from happiness to misery happened not too long ago.
I was driving happily along Front street to deliver a friend who had to pick up his truck. The conversation was light and carefree until a blue flashing light appeared in my rear view mirror.
I stopped and after a little while the cop walked up and asked for my driver’s license. He gave me my license back and said you are driving without insurance. My answer was that could not be, I know I have insurance.
The cop looked at my insurance papers and said these papers are from 2010.
At that point my self confidence began to wobble, so I said must have put the wrong papers in that envelope. His answer was wait here I’ll phone for a tow truck. A tow truck was not available for an hour so I was allowed to park in a lot nearby and get insurance.
The story must have travelled fast among friends because all I got was “so I hear you got a six hundred dollar ticket, ha ha ha.” Bloody cruel buggers they are.
I can see the funny side of it now, however it is not something I would like to repeat, the story could have been very different.
Bert de Vink’s a long-time Quesnel resident who wrote for the Cariboo Observer from the mid 80’s to the late 90’s. The Observer is pleased de Vink once again decided to put pen to paper.
