A real John-ism to be sure, something he said earlier as I trapped off about my horrid journey home this afternoon and unadulterated pleasure at finally getting home. Home to my cosy cocoon: Hobo the boat.
Despite abandoning the couple of errands I wanted to do on the way, it was worth the sacrifice, just to escape the madness.
I’d planned a little foray into ‘Arlo, where Aldi stock my coconut water at a fraction of the price charged by the local health shop. I do this every Monday, pretty much, without trauma. And I’d pick up a paper and have a rummage through their bargain bins.
From the A414, ‘Arlo is approached from the right-hand lane of the dual carriageway, whereas home is left hand lane. My mind must have been elsewhere as I joined the queue on the right and it took me a full 60 seconds to realise I was even in a queue (not being one that enjoys this sport at all whatsoever) and that the road off the roundabout into town was bumper to bumper as far as the eye could see. The left hand side that leads into the sticks was clear.
No brainer. Long – as opposed to quick – squint due to the appalling visibility (yes, raining too) into the nearside mirror and I’m gone. Water will wait for another day and I can pick up a paper at Bludgeons in Sawbo.
I have to take a left at a T-junction to go uphill for Sawbo and, wouldn’t you know, another stonking line of cars backed up there. Oh well, have a smoke while I wait – except I smoked the last one an hour ago – cue Simon and Garfunkel. Pox..!
There was some piss-poor interesting parking at the store, they’d sold out of all papers apart from the Guardian (and I’m not buying that) so I picked up some bread and headed for the till. Another long wait by the looks as it was manned by the slowest till tapper in all the world and even the kiosk was beset about by hoards of impatiently queueing shoppers that had no right to be out in force like this at this time of day.
Bread abandoned, I’m heading for Hobo and the river.
What was all the traffic/extra people about? I left work at three, thinking no school run would equal an easy commute, to find the world and his wife were out in force and clogging up my route big-time.
I know, I know – time of year. I would, if I could, avoid all roads and commercial outlets during silly season. Not so much Bah Humbug as hating the way the world goes mad for shopping, bunging up the roads and making the simplest of purchases/journeys an ordeal of note.
But I don’t do Mrs. Angry any more. I’m in a good place and no longer have to share my space with the crazies of this world…as long as I remember to bail that is. What’s more, I’ve received some lovely greetings via social media wishing me well for the season and I treasure those people and their messages – thank you all.
One, from an old boating buddy, wishing us both a happy solstice and that, to me, means more than any of this other nonsense we get embroiled in – something to truly celebrate. So thanks again for that my friend.
So it’s all onward and upward from here – longer days and a new year. I’ll work the bit in the middle and it will pass as all things must.
To you all I wish the very best for this solstice, the season and for 2016.
Much love, BB
PS: The mud here is frightful as usual when the slightest drop of rain falls but, you know what, let it rain all it likes; I am not made of sugar, I have wellies, waterproofs and my very own ark, complete with one boatbird and one boatbloke.
That’ll do me.
Boatbird 