The Baynhams

When my sister was a teenager my Mum got a set of white fairy lights and made little muslin bags to put over each light bulb so that the string of lights had a wonderful soft glow when plugged in. Many years later she is still using them in her own home. Rhiannon loved them when she saw them on our Ireland trip earlier this year. When we got home I was putting away the Christmas decorations and a set of 50 little white fairy lights caught my eye. I put them aside with the idea of replicating my mums idea in time for Rhiannon's birthday later this month. 

This week I bought some light white fabric and set to making 50 little cloth bags. I had to work fast as there is only a small time window between my return from work and the kids arriving home from school. I wanted to see if I was on the right track so after making the first few bags I plugged the lights in to see how they would look. They were dead. Not a flicker. I felt so disappointed. I scooped the bundle of wires up in my hand to take a closer look and they came on, briefly, then off again. I thought maybe a bulb was loose so I lay the wires on my bare lap and went to gently check each bulb in turn. That's when I got zapped. 

I screamed. It felt like I had been stung by a monster bee. There was a smell of burning. I turned off the power at the socket and looked closer at my leg. There was a black mark that looked like a large freckle. It was the singe mark from where the lights had zapped me. It stung like hell but all I could do was let an immense feeling of gratitude roll over me. I knew that I had just been warned to stop. In a couple of weeks time these lights would have been wrapped up in pretty paper and would have been a part of Rhiannon's birthday gifts. She would have used them in her bedroom and most likely they would have been left on for periods of time as she pottered in and out of her room. I knew that if the lights had malfunctioned there it would almost certainly have caused a fire. 

I had a flashback to a dream I had in the early hours of this morning. I had been driving home from Sian's piano lesson, the sky had turned dark inky black as though a thunderstorm was coming. As I drove home a car blocked my path. The occupants were shouting at me and waving their hands in terror. They wouldn't let my car pass. They were shouting "Fire, Fire" In the dream my heart was pounding. I somehow knew that the fire was in our home and that Gareth was there alone. I woke in the early morning light with my heart still beating furiously and a feeling of horror that our home was in danger. It took all day to shake the heavy feeling of the dream and now as I sat with the half made fairy lights at my feet I felt the fear of it rise up in me again. I truly felt that there was a very real possibility that we had been spared from something far worse. 

Have you ever had the feeling that someone was looking out for you? I'd love you to share your story in the comments below.