So I was sweeping the floor when the words Goldy Looking Chain came into my head.
I believe that is the name of a popular musical combo - or possibly solo artiste - but why it should come into my head at that particular moment is a mystery to me. Perhaps it was God.
Maybe he was telling me I should listen to GLC or maybe he was telling me I should get one. Or perhaps, yes, this is it - it was a picture. I am imprisoned by chains but the chains are worthless - not solid gold - and I should cast them off. They're not strong enough to hold me and he wants me to be free to ... no, free from cleaning floors. I am to give up cleaning! That's it! I will tell husband that God told me to.
The sad thing is that I know people who translate every thought, image, sound, into a word from God. People like Keith. I can't help wondering if this constant hotline to God is genuine. Is God so permanently active in every aspect of our lives?
I mean, even David had times when he didn't hear from God; come to that, Jesus asked why God had deserted him. Probably he was too busy making pictures for the Keith of their days.
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Then there's Desperate Housewives. Chris ensured the meeting last night ended in time for him to rush home to watch the latest episode. 'It's the best thing on television! The second series is even better than the first: it's so poignant and heart-rending.'
Excuse me? Are we talking about the same programme?
I pooh-poohed the first series because of the appalling trailers but husband was addicted to it - his excuse was that he was in a hotel in Bournemouth so he might as well watch it - so I've been watching the second series with him.
It's all right. Some funny bits but poignant? Heart-rending? No! Now West Wing ...
Okay, back to cleaning. Am not convinced that husband would accept God excuse.