Mystic Meteorology.

By 11 o’clock this morning I was beginning to feel that I was about to fall over backwards and start frothing at the mouth, all courtesy of several incidents and an unexpected phone call from the Cardiology department of the Royal Derby Hospital (it was the third one this week, and I’m not going to elucidate further because it’s all becoming too silly.)

And then I had the phone call I was expecting from the Urology department, the one I’ve been dreading for a week because it seemed likely that it would be the purveyor of bad news. It wasn’t. CT scans clear and a simple projection for future screening was all I got. I went to do my weekly shop in a better frame of mind and even found something I’ve been seeking for two years in a charity shop.

So then it seemed to me that periods of good and bad fortune are much like weather systems. You wake up in the morning to dull skies, blustery winds and rain as a deep depression passes through. And then the rain stops, the wind dies down, the sky clears and the sun comes out.

We could do with a fortune version of weather forecasters, couldn’t we? Only they’d have to be more reliable than astrologers (and even weather forecasters.) And women called Mystic Myrtle who get paid to write whatever they feel like writing in tabloid newspapers definitely won’t do.