Yes, I've been busy, so the Blog has been idle. I mean, time flies when you're not having fun, so I suddenly find a whole lot of time has passed since my last post. Sorry, gentle readers, for the infrequent updates.
I spent today walking at a 45 degree angle into the wind and sleet on the Greenhills Road in the name of Work. Work involves inspecting certain areas from time to time to see if the general environmental condition has improved, disimproved, or has stayed the same since the previous inspection. This was a definite disimprovement, as the temperature gauge in the electronic gizmo in the car said it was 3 degrees Centigrade outside. I can vouch for the fact that it was considerably feckin colder with the wind.
Environmentally speaking, in the world of Litter, you may be interested to know that after a fall off, crisp packets are making a comeback, although cigarette butts shall probably never be toppled as a number one litter item. You don't think they're litter, Judge? Well, try counting them in the cold. You'll soon get a sense of the number of them.
Our bus driver this evening made no special announcements and didn't (unlike the bus driver of another evening this week) take a shortcut over unsuitable speed ramps to the rattlement of various spinal cords. A Muslim lady at the bus stop had trouble getting a buggy to collapse though, so she solved the problem by boarding, thrusting a child bagged up in pink eiderdown into the arms of a startled passenger and alighting again to wrestle the damned thing onto the bus. I occasionally offer help in such circumstances, but was too far back in the bus to have gotten there in time. She spent the bus journey trying to eat the child. I note that Herself's daughter also tries to eat her baby at every opportunity. It's a definite Mammy thing.
I really have occasionally asked persons staggering under the weight of shopping if they would like a bit of help boarding a bus. They invariably refuse. I don't know why. I could not run further than five steps with someone's Heinz beans and Coco Pops without being caught or having a coronary. It may be the ponytail that puts them off. They may think I will sell the groceries for sugarlumps.
I am also intrigued by the lack of passengers willing to sit beside me on a bus. Perhaps the fact that I am trying to make room on the seat by scrunging up into a teensy corner and holding my breath dissuades them. A large blue-faced man clutching a manbag and peering out from under the kind of hat only the thick kid at school used to wear may not be conducive to risk-taking. They may think I will take something unspeakable out of the bag or worse -- talk to them. I have seen one-legged women coming from a session with pliers and files at the Chiropodist preferring to stand rather than take the only remaining seat -- beside me.
Bread and butter pudding was forced upon me as a treat this evening so I politely ate it, even though it was covered with hot custard. You have to be polite in the face of such sugary goodness. The fact that I love bread and butter pudding and am fond enough of custard does not detract in the slightest from the ordeal.
Apart from these few hardships, not much is happening. I am to undergo Overtime next week, so transmission may again be interrupted. I may be drunk on Friday. Most likely Saturday though.
Anyhow. Talk to ya.