Some years ago my sister and I chanced to hear of a gypsy woman who claimed to be clairvoyant. We just had to visit. The house was an ordinary bungalow almost obliterated by trees, bushes and rampant climbers.
'Oh no,' I said, 'I think we should go home. Too scary Pam.'
Pam looked at me in disbelief, 'Where is your sense of adventure?'
The gypsy was tiny. The room was gloomy, lit by candles. A black cat sat in a corner and glared at us. Its eyes were green and malevolent. Adorned with bangles the gypsy’s appearance was heralded by a jangling, rhythm synergistic with the chattering of my own teeth.
I was about to bolt but Pam was clutching my poor arm. The gypsy spoke accurately of many things that had happened in my life.
'On your front porch, ' she croaked, 'You have a purple stand and resting on it is a pot plant with purple under-leaves.' Now I was a believer.
Finally it was Pam's turn and once again the gypsy mentioned family events.
‘You my dear are about to receive a gift of a brown paper bag with two cauliflowers.'
Pam laughed when we reached the car and promptly dismissed the gypsy's odd prophecy.
The following weekend there was a knock on Pam’s door. Her sister-in-law Jan, on her way back from her mother's home in Huntly, was standing there bearing a brown paper bag. Inside was one cauliflower.
Stunned, Pam spluttered, 'And where is the other one?’
Jan, looking uncomfortable replied, 'I didn't think you could use two so I dropped the other one at my place on the way.'
How on earth did she know?