The above heading is as good an exclamation as any to describe how Mary Evdemon (nee Hawthorne) felt when she was told by her cousin Roy that her autobiography, ‘The Hawthorne Tree’, had been seen at Wolverhampton archives.
"Aren't these sort of things supposed to happen after you've passed on?" she enquired, still a little flabbergasted.
After Mary, who now lives in Stockport, Cheshire, had been given the news she had to make her cousin repeat the details several times for it to sink in. She was keen to tell us here at the Bugle all about it, and we were over the moon for her, empathising with her feelings on the matter.
But hey! this was history in the making; after all, we were with Mary at the very start of her autobiographical adventure when she sent scripts to us about growing up in Coseley as the daughter of eccentric butcher Allan Hawthorne, tales from the early days of her life that were both frank and hilarious.
They were stories that just had to be enjoyed by a wider audience, and in 2008 The Hawthorne Tree was published.
Now Mary's childhood memories can be used as a reference by visitors to the Wolverhampton archives, not only to discover all about her formative years growing up in the Black Country, but also for background information regarding Coseley of old, and Wombourne, where she moved from her Roseville home.
Mary has registered her surprise and delight in the form of a poem, which we reproduce below ......jworkman@ blackcountrybugle.co.uk
My cousin Roy rang to say, something that simply blew me away.
A story that I wrote myself is in Wolverhampton Archives, right there on the shelf.
It's there for anyone to look and peruse.I must say, I nearly blew a fuse.
I wonder how I managed to do, something good enough to share with you?
I've pinched myself and made myself scream, Just so I know, it isn't a dream!
But yes folks it's true, I'm happy to say, It's been a very, very, special day.
I'm no J.K. Rowling, I don't aspire to be, And shall continue on as boring old me.
But just for a time I felt the glow of success, And it's not very often, I must confess, that I can look back with pleasure or pride. So forgive me if I fail to hide My feelings of delight and happiness, at my fifteen minutes of fame and success!