Monday, January 02, 2017

Waiting for the heating to come on

So today we took down all the Christmas decorations, but I have left up the lights in my apple tree that I forgot to take down last year. They have been burning all year. To be honest I have grown to like it that way. My Apple tree lights aren't just for Christmas. They're for all the year. They guide my way home on a dark night.  We live in the middle of nowhere and the lights help me find our house. This year I put up extra lights in the apple tree. These I have removed until next year. They twinkled.
Today Zoe and I spent most of the day walking and later in one of our favourite pubs where we walked around in our socks because they asked us, by a A4 notice,  to remove our muddy boots and leave them outside. Zoe curled up in a big armchair and had a large Pino or two. Scout lay at her feet. I lounged in another armchair with a pint or two of beer while we waited for the heating to come on at home....

3 Comments:

Blogger Z said...

I rather like walking around in my socks in pubs. Not at home though. With gravel outside and, for most of my life, dogs with capacious paws, bare/shoeless feet was asking for trouble.

9:48 pm  
Blogger Mike Da Hat said...

It was like being at home. Shoes off, just curled up. So many very pleasant people all with their boots outside the door. It's a leveller. No one is above you when there boots are off. We are all equal. Having a drink and a lovely time.

10:10 pm  
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9:25 am  

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Sunday, January 01, 2017

The turf war

The scientist within me stands back and analyses. I watch myself. I measure my own reactions. I rationalise what I am doing. I find explanations for everything and nothing.
All around me people are wishing me Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. It's all I can do to acknowledge their existence never mind reciprocate their wishes. I mumble something along the lines of "thanks, the same for you." I don't even know I'm saying it. I feel awkward. I have become that odd boy everyone laughs at. The socially awkward boy who says inappropriate things. Except I carefully say nothing. I am hiding my awkwardness inside of me.
I get an email asking me if I will help organise a Folk Festival this year. I got the email last year, last week. It's taken me until today to reply. I write that I could not reply right now. I'm not sure if that makes sense so I elaborate on my condition. I read it back to myself I sound insane. I delete my reply. I'll try again another day when I don't assume the mantle of someone totally deranged.
 My closest friends know what I'm like, they make allowances for my strange antisocial behaviour. My dark humour. My silence.
I have two more weeks of this before I return to my normal self. I can't wait. To be able to think clearly again. To rid myself of this God awful two month headache.

On the plus side a customer came into my shop she said "Did you see that?"
"See what?"
"In broad daylight as well."
"What was it?"
"I... just... witnessed... a drugdealer. Dealing drugs in... the.. street."
"That's what they do. Was it over there?" I pointed towards the Smack Crack and Cocaine Emporium.
"Yes on the road up there."
"Hmmmm he's getting careless."
"who?"
"The dealer."
"You know him?" she looked visibly shocked.
"Not as such but that's his van outside the house."
"No it wasn't a van it was a blue car."
"Oh this is serious." I said gravely.
"Why?"
"we could be in for a turf war..."
"Should we call the police then?"
"NO why spoil the fun?"


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