Fate only takes you so far, then it's up to you to make it happen.

Last night, initially, fate only took me as far as just short of East Croydon, where the train stopped for nearly an hour...

Like this only it was dark

James and I, fellow travellers to Haywards Heath, had been so delighted. We'd skipped out of the Landmark offices in double quick time, plenty of time to sprint along Eversholt Street to Euston, take the underground and catch the earlier, FAST, 23.06 train from Victoria Station.

Whoopee! Home just after midnight, for a change. Celebrations! (I used to think being out after 9 p.m. was pretty outrageous)

Until...fate stepped in with a graunching sound of metal against metal.

So - fate took us that far and then it was up to us to make it happen.

What DID happen was good fun instead of gnashing of teeth. Defying the predictable. James and I were, as usual, battling with The Times crossword - online, not the terribly difficult one. Our brains weren't exactly running on full-speed...much like the train, really.

Then the man sitting next to us offered a solution to one of the clues. (which was wrong!) Then another (which was right!)

We were struggling with 12 across - material inserted in fabric to stiffen it (I think) - and suddenly, a woman's voice from up the carriage shouted out 'INTERLINING' (which was incorrect - but it fitted!)

So it all turned out to be a sociable, friendly experience with people actually talking to each other and laughing...on a delayed train...after midnight...when we all had quite good cause to be grouchy.

SHOCK HORROR! People talking to each other on the train? That can't be right.

There is no such thing as an accident; it is fate misnamed.

Thanks to Napoleon Bonaparte for this pearl of wisdom. I'm sure Guido appreciates it.

"Many theories have been presented as to why Napoleon is traditionally depicted with his hand in his waistcoat. Some of these theories include: that he had a stomach ulcer, he was winding his watch, he had an itchy skin disease, that in his era it was impolite to put your hands in your pockets, he had breast cancer, he had a deformed hand, he kept a perfumed sachet in his vest that he'd sniff surreptitiously, and that painters don't like to paint hands."

Somewhat and rather horrifically ironic, this. I'm thinking Guido, dear Swiss skiing friend, will be holding his arm like that for some time to come.

We were skiing down the mountain merrily and a blood wagon came past...

...one of those occasions where you don't want to look but somehow you're compelled. Skiing next to the blood wagon was David, another friend, and in it was Guido. He had had a horrendous crash, badly smashed his R Lower arm and has broken his back in two places (but can still wiggle his toes)

An accident? He went for a black ski jump... twice. The first time it went well, the second time...madness really. Fate? I don't know. Who knows?

I do know that the longer the ski holiday goes on the more I think...I've got away so far without injury. SURELY my good fortune can't last?

Guido's certainly didn't. Quite.

We learned that someone died on that jump the day before.

Fate is not an eagle, it creeps like a rat.

Elizabeth Bowen's rather jaundiced view...with which I disagree.

Fate doesn't bother creeping up on me; it's flamboyant, swoops down and grabs me with its talons. Not like a rat. Much more like an eagle. Okay, maybe a bit like THIS rat.

Do I believe in fate? I did yesterday, that's for sure.I experienced some Bad Fate and some Good Fate, both of which made me laugh for their sheer audacity.

The Bad Fate.

I really wanted to listen to Dixon of Dock Green on the radio, between 1.30 and 2 in the afternoon. I scheduled my work so that it would be lunchtime for me. At 1.29, there I was seated at the kitchen table, lunch in front of me, radio tuned and BAM...there was a powercut, which lasted until 2.03.

The Good Fate.

The night before, I'd been discussing my bucket list - all the things I want to do before I die. Right at the top of that list, I told everyone, is to see the Northern Lights. Further down the list is to run marathons and half marathons again.

I logged on to my computer. There, on my home page was an advert for the:

Polar Night Halfmarathon

 
"The Polar Night Half-marathon takes place in Tromsø on Saturday January 7th 2012. At this time of the winter the sun is completely absent from the Tromsø sky, and the only visible sources of light are the moon and the occasional northern lights. This is a race where the runners face the challenge of icy snow and biting cold, as well as the race itself. Are you up for it? Welcome to an exceptional experience. Welcome to the Polar Night Half-marathon in Tromsø."

I SO want to do this...