Dear Diary,
This was very nearly the last diary you would ever read from me, for two reasons. Firstly, my life was very nearly ended this week by an idiotic motorist, then (after I had obviously survived) my scribe was in danger of being arrested as she went out in search of said motorist to unleash the hounds of hell – or in this case the much more scary version – my mother on the absolute war path.
Let me elaborate on the tale.
So, earlier this week, as is her insane desire, Crazy Boss Lady and I went on our little solo jaunt around the village where I deigned not to throw her under the wheels of a tractor and actually walk past it with a quiet mature dignity that nearly made her fall off in sheer surprise. I then chose to remind her who she was riding by nearly throwing her under the literal bus on the way home just to stop her getting complacent and to ensure her inner thighs had indeed had a very good work out. Despite these small issues and differences of opinion, we were feeling that all was well with the world – the sun was shining, she wasn’t questioning my parentage, mother was in another part of the country, and I had been promised a whole 2cm of new grass when I got back. Life was pretty good.
Well, it was until some insane woman decided to use the local country road as a test track for a new land speed record and came up my rear end like the DeLorean jumping time and space. We’d seen her driving like a lunatic only two weeks before, but this time she came so fast she had no choice but to swerve around us onto the wrong side of the road as if she’d have even tried to stop, her car would have been wearing me as a bonnet ornament. Luckily for all involved, nothing was coming the other way, but I would suggest from her action the woman is about as familiar with the highway code as mother is with a Weight Watchers slimming plan (other diets are available – or so they tell me, mother clearly is less informed…).
So incensed was Crazy Boss Lady by this incredibly close shave that she did two things. Firstly informed the mothership, which as a tactic was absolutely brilliant. There’s only two things on this planet guaranteed to send mother on the war path – a lack of bubbles in her fizz and anyone other than her in any way belittling/bullying or endangering those she loves. Mama bear was now firmly on the war path.
Secondly, CBL used the power of social media to track down the car using the brief description that we could give of the coloured blur as it had hurtled past. Local sleuths then suggested where said car was, which CBL may have subtlety drip fed to the now fire breathing mothership. Luckily for the owner of said car, mother was in London at the time and so would not have been able to go to have an educational “chat”/beat the hell out of them with a schooling whip until today. Lucky for me too for as much as my mother drives me insane, she needs to be out of jail and working to pay my lodgings and food bill.
In the meantime, the news of the social media post had reached the driver and a hilarious battle of the version of events began between CBL and said wannabe F1 pilot. CBL then displaying all the cunning of a fox with a degree in cunning from Oxford University tagged my mother in said post and calmly “introduced” them to each other. Anyone who knows her will tell you that when my mother a) talks in what might call her “high school accent”, complete with long A and a vocabulary that would have her snapped up by the BBC in a heartbeat (as opposed to her more usual northern accent and fluent Anglo-Saxon) and b) writes in the sort of syntax and barrister style accuracy of a pen-like laser that it’s time to run for the hills. When she’s swearing like a royal marine, all is actually fine, but when she goes cold, very posh and very calm, then for the love of God get the hell out of there faster than when someone has passed wind in a portaloo…
It’s fair to say I think said driver might think twice about going above 10mph ever again, let alone near a horse, and I’m fairly sure will drive around Lincolnshire via Lancashire to avoid bumping into mother…
Anyway, thankfully I live to fight another day but very nearly didn’t. We were visible and doing everything right so be careful all of you – summer means more people on country roads, often forgetting we’re there too. Stay safe.
Laters,
Hovis
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