It was a hot, sunny afternoon in England.
It was a hot sunny afternoon in England.

No, I haven’t made a mistake in repeating that.  This is such a rarity and pleasure that it is important to mention it twice. 

 All people talk about over here is the weather.  They don’t even say “Hello.”  anymore.  They just say “Oh isn’t it a lovely day!” or, most usually, “What shocking weather!  I’ve not known a decent summer since 1904.”  It’s like groundhog day.

Anyway, as one does over here when that yellow thing makes an appearance, I sat outside in my garden getting some seriously needed vitamin D.  My phone buzzed on the patio table, indicating a message.

MISS E:  I need help with a presentation for work.  It needs to be arty.  I’m shit at art.  If I bring it round now will you make it look pretty? Xx

ME:  What’s in it for me? 

MISS E: I’ll bring some Crabbies and an egg custard? 

ME: Forget the egg custard but you can bring Crabbies :) 

MISS E: OK.  Be there in half an hour. Xx

Crabbies is grown up ginger beer. It makes you feel like the famous five except we were just the famous two.  The advert alone makes you want to drink it because it’s ‘tickety - boo’ 

Miss E arrived with two small bottles of ginger beer and came outside to the patio.  We opened them and sat there sipping the fizzy nectar.

ME: So, what’s this presentation about?

MISS E:  About mortgage protection, critical illness cover, the implications of not havin..

ME: BORED... I’m going to need a crate load of Crabbies to even begin to find the art in that!

I brought my flip chart outside so we could make plans. We sat down a little longer first to try and gather some momentum.

MISS E: Did you watch ‘The Voice’ the other night? You are like the female version of Will-I-Am. Personality wise.  I might start calling you Jules-I-am.

I considered that for a minute.

ME: Yes I’m fine with that, I think he’s bonkers and fun so that works for me.

MISS E: What do you think happens when we die?

I’m always wary of responding to these type of questions since you never know what kind of answer people are expecting.  My moods are very bipolar and tend to be either full of fancy, running in meadows and spiritual beauty...OR...cold, hard straight facts.  However, I always say what I think regardless.

ME: I think we just rot in the ground.  Or get burned.  End of.

MISS E: Oh my God that’s horrible! Don’t you think we go somewhere else? 

ME:  Nope.  I think man is just scared of dying and has to believe that he doesn’t.

MISS E: Well, I don’t think that..I thought you believed in angels?

ME: I like the concept of angels but if I have a guardian angel then it needs a kick up the arse.  I reckon mines reached it’s tolerance level!  

MISS E: But people have seen angels..

ME: Hmmmm.. Maybe those high on E washed down with a bottle of single malt have. But, I do actually believe there were angels of sorts.  I watched a programme on the History channel the other week about angels. People saw these beings in the sky, floating about.  Know why?  Because they were aliens. Now that makes more sense to me.  And they were drawn with wings because people thought they were flying when they were just hovering like cool extra terrestrials do. If you study the ergonomics of the wings drawn on an angel it would be impossible for them to fly. AND, here’s the cool bit.. They came down and ravished some of the girlies here.  I mean, can you imagine the line up?  If you got the chance to do an angel you would, wouldn’t you?

MISS E:  But you just said it was an alien..

ME:  Alien, angel, whatevs.  I’m actually convinced that female members of my ancestry got it on with angels.  This explains me feeling like I don’t belong on this planet.  I’m clearly part angel.  A strange being.. A STRANGEL!  Yes! 

MISS E:  I don’t think you should have any more Crabbies.

We both sat in silence for a moment.  We reached for our bottles at the same time and drank, mirroring each others movements in time.  I always wonder if that’s because you are so in tune with each other or because it’s an awkward moment and you don’t know what else to do.

MISS E: They say that if you see a feather on the floor an angel is watching you.

ME:  No, it’s just a birds feather.  But if you think that then I’m happy for you though also think you should lay off the Crabbies. 

MISS E:  What happens to all the dead birds?

ME: EH?  That’s so random!  What do you mean?

MISS E: Well, you never see them do you..dead birds I mean.  They never fall from the sky and die.. You never see them dead all over the garden. And there’s loads of them. What happens to them?

I thought about this.  She was right.  The only time I saw a dead bird was if it was road kill or a naughty kitty had pounced on it. 

ME: You know I’m going to have to google that right? 

I sat there thinking about birds. Why didn’t they just fall from the sky?  Maybe flight was the answer to not dying. 

Maybe birds were angels.