Wednesday, October 29, 2014

There was only one thing that wasn’t great

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Another day in the morning air, the train is due of course. It always is due until it comes.

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When it comes, I’m straight into my book, considering I don’t find the story interesting I am still ripping through the pages, at a rate I’ve never read at before. I note I need to stop or it will be all over.

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As I get off the train I notice I can not find my phone, its not in the normal pocket. It’s not in any of my pockets. It’s not in my bag. I go back to my seat and look around. Erm its gone. I only had it a moment ago? The train is moving onto the next station, oh well and I  move to the door to get off there then. As if by magic, there is nudge from within my jacket and there it is, right there where it should have been, in the normal pocket, the pocket a moment ago it was not. So I get off at that wrong station. The station you would never want to visit. The station the rail line looks like it doesn’t want. Yet here we are, not just me but others. All pondering when the next train out of hell may arrive to let us depart.

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And soon enough on appears and I jump on for the one hop sensation.

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I’m making the most of the canteen still this week. And today is chilli day, so I’m extra naughty as usual and have chilli and chips. Ohh yeah.

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I hang out in reception for the rest of the break before heading back to the desk central where it all happens, even the things you don’t want to happen, and the things you do want to happen don’t. Its a mad topsy turvey world that should never surprise me anymore and never truly does.

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I have had a call at work and my uncle has a futon I can have if I can get it tonight. There is nothing like forward thinking and like so many things in the world, if I put my mind to it I can make it happen. I bride those that need briding and I have a van again. I head off into the darkness of the night to find said futon, dissamable said futon, load said futon up and then get a pot of cream, a crusty load and some stock.

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For waiting outside my house is Rog, waiting for his tea I promised to cook for him tonight. Things are going to plan, they must be, I am late as normal.

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The plan wasn’t for him to help me unload the van but he does and that is a great help. But I’m not, we are not going to build it now. Nope for now

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we are going to build tea from scratch.

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And whilst I wasn’t sure, but had been reassured it would be fine, I’m making leek and potato soup. From the finest ingredients of course.

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I follow the instructions I’ve been given, nope that is a lie, I was following the instructions I was given, but if I used all those vegetables, I just would never have a had sauce pan or bowl big enough. I adjusted everything but my trousers.

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Sometime later its ready for the next stage.

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The first use of my blender. Now was this going to be good?

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ohh it was good, look at it blend.

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After a long wait, Rog couldn’t wait any longer. No matter how it tasted.

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Truth is it tasted just how I wanted it to taste, it was perfect, the prefect blend, the perfect thickness, the perfect warmness, the perfect filling tea. It was great, the conversation was great, the company was great. It couldn’t have been any better. And that in itself was great.

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There was only one thing that wasn’t great. That was the washing up!





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"Nowhere Near The End Of the Rainbow"
contains information that is non-accurate, made up and in some cases just down right lies. Anything in this blogg may be based on true fiction but to help dramatise it, some items may have been embellished. Some names are made up, others are not and any that are familar to yours just are.



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 Near The End Of The Rainbow

An account of something that may one day turn out to be wonderful.......