A strange day, full of perambulations and connected ramblings.
I’d been dreading it, trying to plan it but failing in the face of the unknown. How to return a hire car, pick up my own car, and be transported from here to there without risk of abandonment?
In the event, it all happened without my control. A phone call from the garage, to tell me that my car was ready, with an offer to send ‘a man’ to collect me and transport me over to Neath Abbey to pay the bill and retrieve my little silver Ford.
Then, alone and without external influences, I drove the car and myself back home.
I called the car hire company, over in Swansea. “If you come over now, we’ll be able to transport you home.”
So, with Graham as navigator, off to Swansea, to leave the hire car and be transported home.
“I feel a little disoriented now,” I said. “As though control has slipped through my fingers and passed on to someone else.”
“Well, let’s have lunch, and a nap, and it’ll all sort itself out in your poor little brain.”
So, lunch, and a nap, and here I am. My poor little old brain hasn’t quite caught up with me yet.
And yet…
It hailed, a regular hail storm, in Swansea.
A documentary, of the “perfect city” next to Chernobyl, populated by dreams of ghosts. And pasted photographs on the walls, showing regulation grim faces of Soviet men, uniformed but not quite convincingly frightening. They were not ten feet tall.
The promise of sausages, just so soon as I can bring myself to peel potatoes and cook a good peasant dish.
Sausages and mash. Perhaps I shall reconnect with my reality there.
Sausages fix just about anything, don’t they.
I just finished the last slice of sausage, egg, cheese and bacon that was baked in a pastry puff on Sunday. Mmmmmm – it was good, straight out of the oven, while looking over my shoulder to make sure Jimbo was still outside. lol
Glad your car is fixed and everyone is back where they should be.
How you taunt me, let me count the ways…..
Sausage and mash, fish and chips, bacon butty’s,
the list goes on and on…
Slobber.
Glad you’ve got your wings back, it’s an unsettling feeling, to be without your transportation, even if you just want to stay curled up in bed all day, you know it’s sitting there, waiting for you.
John, I call that “responsible driver syndrome.” It comes from being the one responsible for doing all the transportation coordination and organization and it is, indeed, disorienting to have outsiders volunteer to assist. I’m sure the sausages and mash will cure the whole thing.
Now how strange is that?I had sausage and mash for dinner tonight.Followed of course ,by pancakes and lemon and lashings of sugar.It’s only once a year!
Fortunately no dreams for me. Guess there is an advantage of falling asleep with the TV babbling.
Glad you are now again with wheels.
…and what kind of sausage? Being one of those “healthy” Californians, how do I make sausage and mash. Don’t laugh, please.
After a really rubbish day, I was laughing out loud to recall this ditty about the B+M dish sung by Peter Sellers and Sophia Loren — http://www.fanpop.com/spots/sophia-loren/videos/10029110/title/peter-sellers-sophia-loren-bangers-mash-45rpm-1961
Hope your mind had a chance to relax John