Gratitude is something I’m trying to find every day. Three little things that I can write even if it’s been a bad day? Things like being stuck in traffic but someone let me out at a junction. I went to an art meeting today and people appreciated what I was saying, and I’ve trained my cat to jump up on my knee when I whistle him so he can have a love. That’s the little light in the dark tunnel. A spark that makes me feel a bit better. I’ll take that. X
We went out this afternoon because I really need to get some tiny canvases to paint some new minature paintings for the exhibition and craft sale on Saturday. We didn’t rush out. I thought if we got to the shop before five we would be OK. We actually got through the traffic and arrived at 3.50pm. The place was already closed! They close at 4pm! I must get there in the morning otherwise I won’t have much time (no pun intended) to get things done. Oh well, Tempus Fugit!
Sometimes you can tell things are going to go wrong. A ten minute journey turns into an hour long trek, at a snails pace. Sitting in a line of traffic to the main duel carriageway I took a left turn to take ous down a side road. That was OK so we proceeded to some traffic lights and turned there. Mistake, at the end of that road is act junction. Everyone was turning right, back down to the duel carriageway. I was turning left. I finally managed to edge out of the junction. Then stuck at more traffic lights, stuck coming down the road to a major roundabout. Queue on the roundabout, queue on the main road into the town we were going to. It became apparent that everyone was trying to get to the local football match.
So, I missed the person I was going to meet. I could not communicate with them as my messenger app is not working. I don’t have their phone number. So all we could do was trek back home. It was slightly better going the other way, but I’m irritated and frustrated. And I hate traffic.
I was looking out of our window and I saw two grey horses, unaccompanied walk past. They were walking in traffic and towards the main road. I pointed it out to hubby who went out to try and direct them while I watched and rang the police. He managed to get them across the road to the local vets, where some of the nurses came out to help. In the meantime I was explaining where it was happening to the police when the owner of the horses arrived. She explained that the farrier who had been shoeing the horses had left the gate open and they had got out. I went to get my phone to take a picture but they were halfway up the hill when I got back out. It was great that neither of them was injured.
I wrote a long piece about this, then I fell asleep, my finger hit the screen and I’ve lost it! I will try and remember what I was saying.
I was bought up in the 60’s and 70’s, when shops closed on a Sunday, people bought enough food to last and put it in the pantry (a small room lined with shelves which was stacked with tins and dry goods).
It was quiet, no one had cars so we would play in the back garden or go to the local park which was a few hundred yards away over the main road. But the road was easy to cross because it wasn’t that busy.
Back to today. I sat in the garden and was surprised to hear birds singing. I think I could recognise about three different songs. They were up a tree at the other end of the garden, normally they would have been drowned out by the road.
Even the rush hour failed to happen. Normally the cars queue on the street waiting to turn into the traffic. Today, one car every few minutes.
The only thing I saw which was wrong was three young men, full of energy, walking together laughing, making fun, striding out. We have been told not to be in groups of more than two. I just worry…
The D Road is a play we went to see today about a woman affected by the D Road.
The D Road is a dual carriage way that runs through Stoke-on-Trent and joins with the M6 motorway North and south of the city making a D shape.
The play is written by Debbie McAndrew. The story unfolds as an elderly lady is frightened by a man hanging around her house. Her grandson catches him and demands to know what he is up to…. The answers change all their lives…
Very enjoyable. Put on inside the Meadows suite at Spode. It was quite cold as its an empty factory, so we were given blankets to keep warm. Very enjoyable.
I came downstairs about an hour ago and the sweet, loud, melodious song of birds was filling the air. At this time of year in the spring it seems louder and more beautiful than ever. Fizzing through the air like ripe electricity. A great pleasure to listen to.
Then cutting through it the insistent alarm call, not of a blackbird, but a ruddy car alarm! The bird song quietened for about five minutes, a car engine started up in the street, and traffic noise commenced. But soaring high above it the melodies of a Blackbird and its mate have resumed. Liquid notes rising and falling in complicated trills… And that ruddy car alarm again!