Armageddon in Malvern and beyond

The Spring Garden Show at Malvern has become a favourite in my calendar.  The location is wonderful, nestling at the foot of the Malvern Hills with superb views in every direction.  The site itself is spacious with plenty of room for everyone to spread a little and there is so much to see and do.  My own pitch must be one of the nicest with my back to the Learning Garden - a permanent walled garden run for people with learning difficulties and an avenue of white cherry blossom trees running alongside.  Plenty of room for me and all my stuff.  The new lorry painting could be seen to great advantage and provoked much interest.  I almost offered guided tours.  Something I might do at some point in the future.  People love to have a good nose into other people’s living spaces and mine is, to say the least, a bit different.  I could offer tea, cakes and close up magic, with a little Alexander life story thrown in. Some people might even pay for that.  The shows went wonderfully and I found a new gag about Bow tie shops on my impro about real bow ties.  Ties R Us. I thought it was funny.  It was followed up by my other retail outlet joke - Where do Goths shop? ArGoth. Probably not enough to give up the day job yet, but quite good I thought.

And the weather on Saturday was perfect.  A superb spring day all round.  That is until about 7.00 after most people had gone, I’d walked the dogs and tidied up, settling in for a night of relaxation and catchup tv.  Then it happened.  The severest thunderstorm I’ve ever experienced in the lorry.  It went on for at least an hour, the thunder and lightning hitting simultaneously, and more rain and wind than anyone could cope with.  The dogs, especially Blue, were terrified and cowered in a corner. Within minutes, there were various lorry leaks I had to deal with. The lorry awning was buffeted dangerously and just about managed to stay pinned down. Everything was flying round the site with people obviously suffering from only having flimsy canvas shelters. All you could do was sit it out and contemplate the end of the world.  And as you know I’m good at that.

By the end of the evening it had gone, almost as quickly as it had come, leaving a lot of mopping and restoring. I guess we have to expect more of that as time goes by.  We have done such crazy things to our planet and it’s beginning to pay us back.

My own personal inevitable, if not impending, demise was made more apparent when I got back to Chester.  I had been feeling decidedly odd for a few days.  A feeling of being not quite there (put your hand up if you’re not here and I would have done for real or maybe not real...) is how I can best describe it, together with a numbness (which has been growing for a while) in my left centre toes and the pad of that foot and pins and needles at odd times in arms and legs.  All a bit ominous...

Anyway I got out of bed to try on a new crinoline which had arrived the day before.  That’s something not every man can say. (More about my new frock design in the next episode.)  I think it was too much for whatever Master Puppeteer is pulling my strings because He (or maybe She) let go of all my strings at once and I found myself on the lorry floor, the whole lorry having done a horizontal somersault.  Whatever divine retribution I was expecting for the first time I had stepped into a frock for many years, it wasn’t that.  I staggered back to bed with the lorry now spinning to contemplate the new change of circumstance, and that had nothing to do with the crinoline.

After some thought I called 111 Health Service’s non-emergency line, explained my symptoms and they said I should see a doctor within three hours.  I made the appointment and had a range of tests there followed up with blood and ecg the next day.  We will see.  The thought of that happening whilst on top of three chairs is not a happy thought so it needs sorting. 

As does my frock.  But more of that next time…

All the best from a floor near you,

Mr Alexander