Electrickery

This morning I nearly killed my husband. Before you all run off to dial 999 it was an accident, honest!! A genuine, bonafide, honest 'injun mix up over what fuse was switched off. He had successfully fitted a new light to our spare bedroom/study. Very nice it looks too. Now it was onto the landing to fit another. He tested it, switching the fuse box back on (is this the right terminology? I know nowt about blasted "electrickery!") but nothing. So he went to check the wiring again. In my half asleep, somewhat hungover state I managed to confuse things over what lights were on or off when he switched the fuse box off. Only he didn't - switch the right one off that is. All I heard was a loud, blood curdling yell, followed by a thud. My heart dropped into my boots and right back up again as my legs turned to lead. As I ran up to look, I dreaded what I would find - but there he was, standing on the landing, screwdriver in hand - grinning at me. "I think I just got electrocuted" he said, shaking his arms and shivering. Luckily it was a low voltage shock, as most household shocks are (as I googled later) but it had left a large cut in one finger and a small burn on his other elbow. The "entry" and "exit" wounds apparently. I feel so guilty, I think my heart was racing for the rest of the day at the thought at what might have happened. And the light fitting? It was fitted perfectly. Neither of us had noticed there was and "on/off" switch on it.

New stuff

There has been a bit of delay with my blogging. I have written lots of notes about my week in Hay-on-Wye at the literary festival. When I got home, I realised that I had a lot more reading to do for the next assignment in my Welsh history course than I first thought. And there was me thinking (smugly) how organised I was. Roll on July - when the course finishes. I have plans you see. Poetry is where I am hurtling towards, and I may start writing my memoirs (posh name for a diary I know, but I have never kept one) which will be the ramblings of a slightly dotty forty something woman who lacks motivation, looking back on her life. After all, I have no children (as a friend and fellow blogger has also realised) to pass on my history to. I think it is important to write things down, for reflection and perspective. My thoughts generallyconsist of rather mixed up ramblings in my brain who are all competing with each other to get out - that's what it feels like to be in my head, scary!! So thank you Larisa, for giving me an idea and a bit of direction. I also need to re-write a story I submitted for my final assignment for my degree. I think it has potential - I certainly got a great mark for it, so fingers crossed I can do something positive with it.