When my children were young we travelled in an old VW camper whose door we had to hold shut when going up hills. Whenever a moth appeared in the van, we knew some minor blip would occur shortly afterwards and the kids used to say, Oh here’s Granddad Moth, meaning my late father was with us. Instantly it would bucket with rain in a clear blue sky, the engine would cut out or we would get stuck in a muddy ditch that leaped out from nowhere. My Dad, never the most cheerful of souls would declare on trips, there’s a hoodoo on us, for my Dad certainly collected bad luck where others would stick to model cars, coins or postage stamps. Miranda, the bridesmaids and I piled into the festive yellow VW camper that was taking us to her wedding ceremony on Saturday and fluttering in the middle of the van was –Granddad Moth. Seconds later the engine coughed irritably and refused to turn over, much to the surprise of the lovely owner/driver who declared it had never happened before. We explained about Granddad Moth and the engine instantly sang and purred into life and the moth flew out of the window on cue. Grandad was not going to miss making his presence felt on the festivities.
Posted on: Thu, 03 Apr 2014 09:56:52 +0000
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