WEDDING COUNTDOWN: Day 3

Many years ago, when things were bleak and there was not much to look forward to, a friend of mine - a sensible woman with an eye for fashion and colonic irrigation, but otherwise full of common sense - gave me a birthday present that I was not expecting: an hour with a psychic.

Now, this psychic did not reside in a tent at a fair, or in a caravan in a parking lot.  She did not reside in a shady side-street in Bournemouth, or up a dusty stair in Soho; she was not at a 'hippy festival' and did not wear shoes made of tofu. There were no mirrors on her headscarf and nowhere could I see bells, crystals, eyes in pyramids, scented candles, velvet curtains, etc etc. She looked like a secretary and worked at a rather grand health spa place off Oxford Street.

I do not believe in this stuff. It doesn't make sense, in the same way that lots of things don't make sense: God, ghosts, the Immaculate Conception, Uri Geller bending spoons with his head, astrology, etc.  But then there are things like hypnosis and acupuncture, or women working together all going on the blob at the same time, or people going a bit bonkers just before thunderstorms that shouldn't make sense but sort of do, and that are proven fact-type-things*.

The thing was, five years ago someone who knew nothing about me (that I had lived in France when I was a kid, that I had sworn I would never live outside Britain again,  that I was single,  that I didn't care that much about having children , that I had a funny tooth or two, etc etc) told me that:

1. I would move to North America;
2. I would speak French regularly again (but she couldn't work out what that had to do with North America);
3. That, if I wanted to, I could have children with a little difficulty;
4. That my 40s would be where "it all began to make sense";
5. That my grandfather, my unlikely spirit guide, said not to let the dentist take out the tooth.

I am not saying ANYTHING but may I remind you all, adoring readers, that I have moved to Montreal,   and am marrying a French Canadian two days before my 40th birthday; that a week after I saw her, a tooth split and my dentist offered me extraction or re-construction that may not hold (and that is still holding 5 years later).

Spooky!!!!




* Homeopathy is absolute nonsense, however, and I will ignore any comments that are about for e.g. my dog was cured of rabies with a distillation of 1,000,000th of actual rabies in a droplet of wee; so saying, if you believe it works it probably does make you feel better, even if you are actually mad and probably also believe in fairies at the end of the garden.