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In the dark...

In the dark, I become vaguely aware of the snuffling noises to my left. I wonder why I have woken: the fact I am warm tells me the the usual reason, of a stolen duvet, is not the cause this time.

If I turn to look at the clock, I will probably waken my wife though. This is not what I want. I hear a strange noise, like an alarm. Imagine, if you will, "1" as a high-pitched tone and "3" as low pitched, with 2 in the middle. It is a quickly changing pattern of "3-2-1-3-2-1-3-2-1...3-1". It's really strange. In my mind, I walk through the house checking for what might make such a noise: nothing, though, is my annoying answer.

"3-2-1-3-2-1-3-2-1...3-1"

I wonder if it is a mobile phone outside? The milkman's phone? It could be around 7am. It could equally be 1am though. Has the guy next door locked himself out?

"3-2-1-3-2-1-3-2-1...3-1"

My lovely wife's snuffling stops. "Are you awake", I whisper.
"Uh? What's that noise?"
"I have no idea"
"Will it stop?"
"Dunno. It's been like that for five minutes."

"3-2-1-3-2-1-3-2-1...3-1"

I get out of bed and stand at the top of the stairs, now unable to hear it. I walk down to the living room, still not hearing it. Maybe it has stopped? I look at the video - 4am. I go back to our bedroom, via the bathroom.

"It's in this room", she announces.
"3-2-1-3-2-1-3-2-1...3-1"
"Is it your phone?!"
It's not my phone though - my phone is turned off. It's under my phone.

We rummage through my bedside drawers - books, pens, keys, loose change - no culprits.
"3-2-1-3-2-1-3-2-1...3-1" A cheap and nasty digital camera announces itself to us. Forgotten for a year, it has gotten lonely - or its batteries are dying.

I remove the batteries and we return to bed.

After tossing, turning, scratching and yawning, several times, the darkness of sleep returns to my mind.

A picture of me

My wife was feeling artistic - I think it's class!

Weekend in Windermere, pt 2

Rule number one of travelling, when you are from Northern Ireland:
you will meet someone else from here - and you will almost certainly know them. Regardless of the fact that of the 6 billion people on earth, 1.5 million live here (giving any random person a 0.025% chance of being fron Norn Iron), it will happen.

Day 2 in Windermere and visiting some big shop place that excited my wife terribly (and bored me stupid), we spied at a distance someone who looks awfully like our very respectable, single, non-dating, female, 40-something friend. She was with a man, of similar age.

Wife to me: "Is that Sally?!"
Me: "With that man? Yes"
Wife: "Who's he?"
Me: "No idea."

We glanced back - they have gone.

Day 3 found us in Keswick, colder and wetter than in the summer. When the rain stopped we bought our fish and chips from the Old Keswickian (I am drooling at the thought, a month on) and ate them outside the Moot Hall. Walking towards the Lake, we spotted our friend Sally again, walking towards us with no escape route. She is holding the man's hand.

"Hello" she says, "This is Seamus, my husband."

Now you may not appreciate the shock that left me gaping for breath like a freshly caught trout. I have known Sally for six years and not once in that time had a husband, ex-husband, boyfriend, date, snog or anything like that been mentioned. It turned out she had been 'keeping company' with Seamus who she works with for well over a year and they had been in the Council Offices two days before for a wedding.

We walked on, flummoxed.