So since the last time I worked on Part 5 with that, erm, shall we say ‘opportunistic’ group in 2012, I do recognise that just because certain people choose to interpret how God’s/Higher Power’s generosity should be accessed to their own ends, that doesn’t mean that the book encourages that kind of behaviour so I was willing to give it another shot.
The reason it’s taken me a while to get back here this year is that I tried the Evening/Morning Q&A pages experiment, and I didn’t feel that I’d been heard at all, in fact I almost felt ignored and was bitterly disappointed.
Anyway it seems that God (sorry, bored of typing Higher Power all the time, so am dropping it now) has stopped playing hard to get and that, as I’ve always professed, he/she clearly has a sense of humour.
So, yesterday morning, I sit down, start re-reading Chapter Five and got to the bit about God’s generosity and thought to myself ‘Huh!’, then saw something poking out from behind a cushion.
I pulled it out.
A carpet sample square.
And somewhere in my little head, I think ‘If you wanna help me Mate, try making one of those bloody cats puke up.’
Minutes later I hear a very familiar sound:
‘Blup, blup, blup, blup….’
Disbelievingly, I run out into the hall just to catch the momentous event in action.
Dexter-cat had just been sick!
To say that I was amazed, would be something of an understatement.
I rush to find an old gardening implement then scoop up the warm, steaming vomit <blup>, smear it over the carpet tile like pate on toast <blup, blup…retch> and shove it hastily in the cupboard under the sink, hereby known as the Cupboard of Doom (because it stank) pause for a moment, clinging to the sink and screwing up my eyes in an attempt to stop wanting to heave, then made myself a rejuvenating cup of tea and sat back down to my book in a daze, feeling very much like the victim of a practical joke.
Very funny, Big Man…
Half an hour later, my grocery delivery arrives, and as I unload my stuff from the plastic crate, I notice that they had given me two bags of oranges instead of one.
‘Mate, can you take these back please, I only ordered one?’
The guy rolls his eyes a bit and takes the charge off my bill and leaves.
But, as I take everything out of the plastic carrier bags, it’s apparent that they sent me double the amount of quite a few items.
Again, I get the distinct impression that someone is taking the piss out of me.
I also have a quandary; the book advises not to send ‘gifts’ back but accept them, but I don’t want to get the poor sap who packed this order into trouble.
My (ex) Catholic guilt wins out.
I ring up the supermarket and explain. The operator listens patiently then goes away to speak to his supervisor.
‘OK,’ I think to myself, ‘if I’m meant to have this, he’ll come back and thank me for being honest and tell me to keep everything.’
He comes back.
‘Hello again madam,’ he says, ‘this happens quite often with this branch, so I’ll send them a message and they’ll call you to arrange a pick up for the extra items.’
I put the phone down, a little deflated. That’s what I get for being honest.
…I’ve had my phone on me for the last 24 hours and no one has called to arrange a pick up of the extra goods.
What else can I say except ‘Thank You Dude! Very clever! Now, if you can rustle up a cottage by the sea for me and the mogs to live in, and a job that I can do from home, that would be brilliant…. ;-)’
So, being serious for a moment, this could be all in my imagination, but in fairness, it isn’t the first time I’ve felt the presence or influence of something/someone, so I have to admit, I’m more than a little chuffed that a teensy weensy connection may have reformed….
After all, you know what they say, ‘It’s not about the presents but the presence….’
P.S. For those of you sad enough to want to know, the cat sick didn’t stain the carpet sample! Hurray!!
P.P.S. The Cupboard of Doom still smells awful. Boo!!