The baby, the cat and Gypsy Acora.

I am so tired. My brain is even more befuddled than usual, my eyes have reached new heights of red-rimmed grittiness and my muscles refuse to respond to the infrequent calls to work that my exhausted brain is sending them. Yep, Baby Isabella has once more descended into the realms of night stalker despite my best efforts to the contrary, and Tiger Lily, the cat from hell, has yowled all night to keep her company! (Ha, how innocent she looks in the photograph!) Apologies for the fact that this is not a new topic in my blogs and please feel free to scroll down to a merrier note (I promise to try to put one somewhere), but I thought having a quick blog (Oh why does it have to sound so YUKKY!) might order my thoughts and blow away the fog I am currently inhabiting.

Actually, having written that much on the subject I am already tired of its demanding any more of my time - and so to other things.

Logged on this morning and had a look at some of Jane's recommended links - oh I don't know why! Just seemed like a nice thing to do when you have a free five minutes because everyone's b******d off for a change in order to avoid the Grendel-creature that was once their mother!). Anyway, Jane frequently reminds me of myself (sorry Jane, wording this v.badly) due to the Capricorn link which means we are both prone to bouts of self-doubt, have a huge interest in all things spiritual and other worldly, and of course, the all important one, both have to finish reading a book once started however loathsome or boring it may be! So, there I am scrolling through her list when I discover one for a psychic called Beverly Night. Oops, just popped off to check on that as I thought it didn't seem right - it's Michele Knight (quelle Twerp!) Clicked on the link and there unfolded a world of paranormal experiences including free readings. Well, it had to be done didn't it? I had a go on the house number one where you put in the number of your house - no! Really Pip! - and in return Michele gives you the appropriate reading. Boy was I pleased! Our house number is all about love with a capital L - in family, relationships and with a heavy emphasis on the romantic. Of course, there was that little bit at the end about a possibility for obsessional love being somewhat a destructive force, but I am a firm believer in only taking the parts that work for you (good grief, now I sound like some sort of Sweeny Todd character!) Give it a go and see what pops up for you.

On a similar theme, there is a Romany psychic called Acora who is based in Plymouth - not Cornwall, but close enough that he makes frequent forays over the river - and many years ago Dave and I both went for a reading when he set up caravan in Truro for a few days. At the time we were not 'together' and had met up for the day as friends. We queued seperately as I was determined he should not link us in any way and finally Dave entered the hallowed van for his fortune to be told. He was not in a very happy place as his marriage had not long broken up and, as with many things in life, despite it having been an unhappy relationship for many years, it was still a horrendous thing to go through at the time. When his reading had finished he went to a nearby cafe to wait for me and a little while later my turn had come.

I admit to a feeling of trepidation as I sat in the kitsch and far too modern caravan. Where was the quaint Romany van with its painted woodwork and pots and pans? No, all I could focus on were the plethora of photographs adorning the walls, each one a black and white shot of a celebrity, Acora's elfin face poking into view at one or other corner in every one. The huge poster shot of the elegantly clad Welsh songstress exuding glamour from every pore and bearing nothing more than the legend 'Shirley' in exuberant lettering particularly caught my eye! Hmm, was I in good company, I wondered.

Acora read my palm, read the Tarot and got me to peer into the crystal ball - the upshot was that I was going through some terrible times (yep), had been for a long time (yep) and that it was about to change for the better (Oh thank the Lord!). He said I would have two children with a younger man whose name began with a 'D', who had loved me for a long time but had not yet told me so. He said I was unaware of this although many others saw it (was he calling me dense I wonder?). He also said I would be a published write, or would be well known for my writing and that it would be factual not fiction (blogging perhaps?). Suddenly, the tiny figure of the Gypsy Acora leapt from the bench seat it had formerly been perching upon to announce with vigour that 'someone has put a curse on your head which has been responsible for all your bad fortune. I take that curse (and he grabbed it from somewhere over my head) and send it back to them sevenfold,' at which point he sank back to his former state of ease! Well, shivers ran down my spine, I can tell you!

I imagine many of you have worked out the Dave link here. The strange thing is that at the time I was annoyed. I remember meeting up with Dave in the cafe and relating it all back to him, scoffing at the fact that he must have noticed us talking before we queued and laughing at the notion that I should have any more children when I was already coping with three on my own. Ha, that'll teach me! Poor Dave sat there in silence as I gently shattered what I later found out were his hopes for the future - a life with me and our children, one huge happy family with a like-minded partner who would allow him to be the person he had buried for years and, hopefully, with one or two little beings of our own to cement the family together.

Fluke or a true gift for reading the future? I'll leave you to decide.

Bye for now xx
(and sorry JAne for name-dropping!)