Tuesday, 18 January 2011

Ordinary (Kinda) Days 2

Got up in quite a chirpy mood. A new album I'd raved about was on sale in Britain at last. The perfect excuse to take a trip into town. I adore going into all the little pound stores, saving a small fortune on my Spring garden tripe. The weight of the recent, heavy snowfall (and it was mental in Scotland - we threw the cat on the garden table to see how deep it was and he disappeared!) had broken the bracket on one of my window boxes and it had fallen and lain like that over the bad spell. So guilt eventually nutted me and I saved what I could yesterday as the weather was fairly mild.

 At 8am, a hammering at the door (that would have put the police to shame) put the wind up me. Just another teenage-type-snotty thing. His girlfriend was appearing on the Scottish, Britain's Got Talent auditions (singing) and GingerNut and the guys went along to the show.

Anyhow, I saw him and his minions out the door around 9am and caught the next bus into town with them. We all had a game of 'uses for a bus ticket'. Toothpick, earplugs and cocaine snorter were among the sensible ones. A quick tara, and a  "mum, have you got any spare change...?" from GingerNut slung it's way towards me before they drifted. I gave him some dosh but told him a checked blanket, a paper cup and a wet arse would have saw him double that!!

Still being very-cold but now snowless, I needed gloves on. Now, trips ('specially unpleasant or long ones) are made easier with a bit of music blasting in your ears (although some folk think you're rude and ignoring them ). I am just starting to connect with my iPod but because it is heat-sensitive, you need a digit with a bit of blood going through it to work. Circulation for the nation so to speak. I got so fed up with dropping my glove to give me access sensor-wise to my songs (and it was making my hand cold) that I gnawed the index finger out of the right one. The old dear at the bus stop next to me shuffled further up as I was ripping and spitting bits of wool on the ground. But it worked.

I'm now off to cook a meal for McScrooge. It's only tea-time but I feel like jumping under the covers now. We did get a new oven for Christmas that I haven't used yet, so if the cheaper half expects a dinner like this:
I can assure him he'll end up with something like that:


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