Never a Dull Moment

Perhaps it should have been a dark and stormy night. In actual fact it was a bright and sunny evening but real life isn’t like the movies and let’s be honest, who would want it to be? Fighting off the advances of Hugh Grant while Batman and Spiderman try to outdo each other in the superhero stakes isn’t my idea of a good day, but I digress.

It was Saturday evening and all I was doing was innocently carting computer equipment into my garden shed (maybe another post if it becomes an interesting enough story) when sirens began to wail and police cars and an ambulance raced along our road until they very quickly realised that it was a cul-de-sac and skidded to a rather abrupt halt.

Thoughts of “the PC’s mine officer, it’s not knock off, honest” came to mind but the policemen and ambulance men had other things to think about.

Thankfully this time their thoughts did not concern terrorists but the ubiquitous “group of teenagers” who were milling around in the way that they are wont to do. This does, in the minds of many, constitute them playing havoc with law and order, so had someone called the police and the ambulance just on the strength that they might be about to commit some heinous crime like well, standing in the street and talking?

A serious faced policeman, who didn’t look much older than his interviewees, took statements and the youngsters tried to look innocent with a well practiced attitude of “it wisnae me what done it sur”. Of course, by this stage I was wondering just what been done and it was at that moment that a girl was wheeled into the ambulance. She looked a bit older than the other teens so had they been with her or had they just seen something happen to her and called the police and the ambulance. Should Hercule Poirot have been on the scene with his little grey cells?

A couple of people passed with dogs and I really wished that I had had a dog as it would have given me an ideal opportunity to walk past, nonchalantly like, and hopefully find out what was going on. I could even have trained my dog to do its business near the policeman so that I could dawdle longer and hear more. Sadly it was not to be.

The ambulance drove off and the police and the youngsters were still deep in conversation. At one point someone held up what appeared to be a small yellow box. A detonator perhaps?

Much later when everyone was away and I was hopeful that aimlessly ambling along the street wouldn’t appear too nosey, I took myself off to the spot of all the excitement. I’m not quite sure what I expected to find. Blood? Broken Glass? A hand grenade? Sadly there was nothing there to indicate that anything untoward had happened. There was however a faint, intermittent siren like sound which lasted all night and into the early hours of the morning.

I never did get to find out what happened but there’s never a dull moment in these here parts.

Thoughtful Blogging

Kelly has very kindly nominated me for the Thoughtful Blogger Award for making bloggers feel at home on my site. It’s a great honour and there’s always a kettle on and cakes on the go round here.

I’d now like to pass the award on to:-

Valentine Suicide in the hope that I might get some Sainsbury’s Fruitcake when I next visit.
Katie for braving the Scottish Weather and putting up with Glaswegian humour.
Debio for living somewhere hot and sunny.
Pepette whose blog is named Il Pleut Il Mouille. I had to look it up in the French/English dictionary and she’s right, it does.
The Good Woman who is leaving Scotland for sunnier climes.

I’d Have Been Quicker Walking

I suppose I should have realised that there was something wrong when I approached the station platform to find far too many people milling about looking disgruntled. The announcement board told the story of their and my impending misery with its stark “Train Delayed”. Since I started my adventures in train travel there have been many imaginative reasons for train delays and cancellations. As well as the infamous “leaf on the line” and “the wrong kind of rain” other memorable excuses have included “the driver didn’t turn up this morning” (and we couldn’t be bothered to find a replacement), and “stormy conditions the previous night” (a slightly stronger wind than normal which let’s be honest, in Scotland we should be able to cope with).

Whatever the reason for the delay, we were never informed and eventually a train hauled itself along the track in the direction of the platform. Of course not the platform it was supposed to be at and we all had to shuffle our way through the throng of passengers whose trains had come in on time and were now rushing in the opposite direction.

When the doors opened we collapsed into the train as if our lives depended on it. Despite it having seemed to be an empty train when we started to step aboard, somewhat miraculously as soon as we were inside all the seats were taken. We were lucky to have got on mind you and felt for those with sadness and anger in their faces who we left behind. They could only watch helplessly as the doors shut in their faces leaving them to whatever fate they imagined awaited on the platform. Let’s be honest their fate would probably be their spouses shouting at them for being late and the dinner being ruined so it probably was a fate worse than death.

The train started its crawl out of the station like a sick old man, coughing and spluttering as he contemplated the last moments of his life. In stark contrast trim eager young trains set off beside us at an energetic pace and at least three had passed us before we even met the daylight outside the station walls. Even the posh voiced taped announcer sounded sick.

"Thi..i..i..i..s train is urgh"

"The…next…stop…will…aargh"

We didn’t hear any more. Either she had expired or she had thrown herself from the train in misery. We never did find out.

The train struggled on. Sometimes stopping for a breather and then hauling itself into unwilling motion again. No conductor came to take tickets and with the loss of the announcer we really hoped that someone was actually driving the train. Eventually, and thankfully, the train came to a standstill at my stop, taking roughly double the time it normally takes. I only hope for the other passengers’ sakes that it made it to the end of its painful journey.

I think I’ll take the car in tomorrow.

Harry Who?

Who’s this Harry Potter chappie I keep hearing about? I believe he’s got a book out about gardening - Harry Potter’s Healthy Marrows. Is it any good? It sounds quite interesting and marrows can be so difficult to grow but I’ve heard that he’s a bit of a wizard so it shouldn’t pose too much of a problem for him should it?

Apparently he’s had a few books out before this. I don’t suppose any of them are about cabbages? I’ve had nothing but trouble with them this year.

Rockin’ Girl Blogger

I have been nominated for a Rockin’ Girl Blogger Award by Debio. This calls for a trip to the shops to buy a glamorous outfit and some killer heels.

I hope I get to meet George Clooney at the awards ceremony. Mmmm I think a trip to La Senza might be in order too don’t you?

Thanks Debio.

Now on to my nominees for the award. They are:-

Kelly the Domestic Goddess
Funky Munky
I Should be Working
Katie
Nunhead Mum

We can all chip in for a taxi but George is mine!


Sadly my blog seems unwilling to add a page element to the template thereby ensuring that the Rockin’ Girl Blogger Award picture may never see the light of day on my blog. If anyone can help I would be most grateful.

Life Begins at 30

One of my new colleagues turns the big 3 0 at the weekend and is viewing the experience with some trepidation. This may have had something to do with the fact that her flatmate told her that the best time of her life had been that from 20 – 30 and after that it had gone downhill rapidly. To be fair there are a number of downsides that I have encountered since hitting 30 which I shall painfully relate:-

1. You develop an unhealthy obsession with “what the weather’s going to do tomorrow” and buy a sensible raincoat.

2. You dash home in time to see “Location Location Location” and know that your home must be “decorated in soft neutrals.”

3. You turn up to a nightclub only to have the bouncer ask you respectfully whose mum you are.

4. Your hairdresser has stopped asking you if you are “going anywhere nice tonight”.

5. All your friends are getting married and you haven’t met any single men of your own age for at least 10 years.

6. Your friends have stopped asking you if you are seeing anyone.

7. You meet your mum whilst admiring that lovely cable knit cardy in Marks and Spencers.

8. You realise that the 1980’s only seem like a few years ago.

9. You have colleagues who weren’t even born in the 1980’s.

10. And the worst? You find yourself quite enjoying that nice chap Terry Wogan on R2 of a morning.

I think that I convinced her however that things actually do get better after the age of 30. Actually hitting 30 itself was a bit painful for me but here’s why the subsequent years have been more than kind:-

1. Being cool and fashionable no longer matters and in fact it is quite acceptable to be a little eccentric.

2. You can economise by borrowing your mum’s clothes and shoes without fear of embarrassment or ridicule from your peers who are by now doing the same thing.

3. You now have friends who are older than you, thereby passing the important age milestones before you, making the process less painful when you reach them. (Thanks here must go particularly to R. and J.)

4. You start to mentally prepare for and look forward to the challenges of the mid life crisis.

5. You can criticise younger people for their taste in music and clothes sense and in fact it now becomes a new fun hobby.

6. Your boss doesn’t laugh when you mention that great new idea you have had. OK he also doesn’t take it much further but there is a sense of progress no matter how small.

7. You get to experiment with hair dye as a “gradual lightening” of your hair takes place.

8. Your auntie stops asking you what you are going to be when you grow up despite the fact that neither of you know yourselves yet.

9. When you buy far too many sweeties and the shop assistant gives you a funny look you can say “it’s for the kids”.

10. You can indulge in a relaxing snooze after lunch without anyone thinking anything untoward

See it’s not so bad it it? Now...... Roll on 40. (Gulp)

Kids These Days

Hooray – I’ve made it through to the second day of my new job. I think that there was relief all round when I turned up this morning after yesterday’s run through of all the numerous tasks that had been allocated to little old me.

Yesterday on the way home from work on the train I encountered one of those horrors of children, recalcitrant and cruelly joined to an ineffectual mother. The child could possibly have been quite cute in a pleasanter alternative reality but his screwed up childish pout put paid to any notion of that. Said child had one of the biggest helium balloons I had ever seen tied onto his wrist which was battering into everyone within the radius of half the carriage. Mother, as you’ve probably already guessed, did absolutely nothing. Our balloon misery experience was intensified by an open window which gave the balloons trajectory more force as it thwacked into faces and rendered the reading of newspapers impossible. Grown men grew apoplectic with rage but, as is the British way, said nothing. At one point the boy whined that he wanted the balloon untied from his wrist, and when Mother said no in a rare moment of activity, he then proceeded to wave the balloon about even more maniacally. Everyone in the carriage was giving the boy and the mother dirty looks but she appeared to be oblivious and continued to do absolutely nothing as the balloon whipped into the faces of all the nearby passengers with gay abandon. The mother did say something about cutting it off his wrist when they got home. I was very tempted to find a pair of scissors and not only cut the thing off his wrist but also to burst his blessed balloon there and then. That would have shown them both.

When ah were a lass I wouldn’t have been allowed a helium balloon, never mind been allowed to take it on a train. Come to think about it, it is very possible that when ah were a lass they hadn’t yet been invented. Ooh, in my day it were a crust of bread before bed if you were lucky. Kids these days eh!