This morning I got up and ran round the village in the sunshine. On my return, after showering, putting some washing in the washing machine and putting the little coffee maker on the stove I phoned the chemist. I wanted to check if they now had a couple of prescription items which they had assured me would be delivered yesterday, when I simply ran put of time to do anything about it. Yes, they did!
So I hung the washing out to dry in the garden. The weatherman assured me it would not rain until 5.00 pm. Then, by now quite late in the morning, I set off to catch a bus which should have got me to the chemist’s before they closed. This is Saturday and some places still only open for the morning on Saturdays.
And then I got on the wrong bus! Oops! This is possible because two buses with the same number but with different destinations go through our crossroads, into and out of the village centre, at approximately the same time. I must have been distracted for it was only when “my” bus turned towards Oldham that I became aware of my mistake. So I got off at the next stop, quite a way down the road, and set off to walk back to the crossroads. By now the bus I should have caught was long since departed but there was an outside chance that if I walked quite quickly I could still arrive in time.
Such optimism! I arrived five minutes too late. And to add to the mix, it started to rain, just gentle rain but far earlier than forecast! So I bought a few items at the coop store (but not mince pies) and sat at the bus-stop to wait for the bus home. No chance of confusion there.
A gentleman arrived. Did I mind, he asked me, if he sat down beside me? He assured me he was harmless, unlike so many supposed gentlemen these days, being 83 and “past all that sort of thing”. I almost got his life story, including an adventure where he was propositioned last year in the centre of Oldham. A “foreign-sounding lady”, probably about 40 years old, noticed he was walking with a stick and first asked was he all right. Assured that he was well, she went on to ask him, “Do you want to have sex with me?” When he declined, she asked if he would like to buy her a meal. He declined that as well. When he returned home and told his son of his adventure, the latter said it was time he wrote accounts these adventures and published an autobiography.
The son is probably not wrong. We all need to write down not just our adventures but also the family stories. My generation’s childhood was quite different in many ways to what our grandchildren are living. Granddaughter Number Two is always telling me to write stuff down so that she and her siblings have a record of the family fun and games. One day someone will have to go through the various notebooks and the files on my iPad where I have begun to do this at various times - never very systematic as real life gets in the way.
In the wider world I read that a sixty year old man has now been arrested under suspicion of cutting down the famous Sycamore Gap tree. I wonder who else was involved. A spokesperson for Northumbrian police has said, “I hope this second arrest demonstrates just how seriously we’re taking this situation, and our ongoing commitment to find those responsible and bring them to justice.”
A friend of mine would like an investigation into all the trees that have been felled in connection with the still mythical HS2 train line. I was reminded the other day that this project dates back to the time of Gordon Brown. We’ve had a long period of Tory rule since then and little progress has been made.
Life goes on. Stay safe and well, everyone!
No comments:
Post a Comment