ir·i·des·cence

I’m taking a temporary break from blogging. I shall still visit the neighbourhood but shalln’t be posting at the moment. Love to you all xxxxx.

I’m off on another railway jaunt in September. Yesterday was so much fun that I wanted to see if all the tickets had been sold for the trip to Havenstreet Railway on the Isle of Wight. Nope, there were a few left so I booked up and that’s where I’ll be heading off to very soon. The woman that sat across from us yesterday will be going but I doubt if I’ll be sitting near her and as I said, she likes to dash off on her own when she’s reached somewhere, so I doubt we’ll get to connect. Still, it will be another day out and a chance to see something different.

After visiting the railway, the rest of the day will be spent in Ryde. The Onion and I have been there and seen practically everything so I’ll see about getting a train or bus ticket for the island and using that. I’m not going to revisit the Donkey Sanctuary or The Buddle Inn as they’re things I’d like to do with The Onion if she fancies it? I’ll find something to do though and I’m sure I’ll have a nightmare either getting to it, getting in or getting back from there, knowing me! Right, that’s that trip taken care of. Mum, Pam & I are going on the Kennet & Avon Canal Cruise next Tuesday and The Onion & I are heading to Brighton in October, so it’s all fine and dandy where day trips are concerned.

I boarded the coach outside Primark and got out my Does Anything Eat Wasps? book and my boiled sweets and waited to set off, thinking this will be a bloody long trip.  Then this old chap came and sat beside me and we basically spent the whole day together, which was fun and certainly passed the time.  Him and I chatted the entire length of the trip.  There was a woman sitting across from us, we were sitting facing back on all journeys including trains for some reason, and although she went off on her own was a mine of information about all types of things, churches, dinosaurs, travel surveys, railways, you name it. 

There were tea/coffee/hot chocolate facilities on the coach and a toilet.  We set off at 7.45am and arrived in Kidderminster at just before 10.30am though our train wasn’t due to depart until 11.45am.  We walked down the main street where Ray (that was my companion’s name) found himself a cafe and got himself a hot bacon sandwich.  We headed back up to the station and into the pub they had there and enjoyed a glass of Cornish Knocker and a cigar each!  It was just what the doctor ordered.  It was then time to board the Severn Valley Railway for our trip through to Bridgnorth. 

We went through some beautiful countryside; past a Safari Park with elephants, buffalo, antelope and all sorts; over bridges; past reservoirs; through valleys; and of course, quite a few lovely little restored stations including one which was used for the crap BBC comedy “Oh Doctor Beeching!”  We arrived at Bridgnorth at just after 1pm and were told to be back by 2.40pm for our 2.50pm departure back to Kidderminster to get the coach from the station at 4.15pm.  Ray wanted to find the Funicular Railway, so we trudged off across a bridge and then down into Bridgnorth itself before finding what we were looking for down a tiny alleyway which if you’d blinked you’d have missed. 

The Bridgnorth Castle Hill Cliff Railway was wonderful.  It was 80p return, a bargain.  We took a pic each (I let him have a disposable camera, as I’d brought two with me) of the cliff rail above us and after a few others had got on, we went up the track.  I looked at the actual cables and they both looked very worn and that worried me slightly but I coped and made it.  Our tickets were ripped in half at the top (and sadly taken at the bottom so no souvenir of that I’m afraid!) and we made our way along the walkway and took photos of the town below, then walked to a great big church and went inside.  They had a guestbook there and was very tempted to put as my name Beelzebub or Satan and as my location “here, there and everywhere” but Ray was like a limpet and as he was Roman Catholic, I thought he probably wouldn’t have seen the funny side. 

We left there and found ourselves a lovely little Tea Room, where we had a cuppa each and a slice of bakewell tart warmed up with custard, which was lovely.  He looked at his watch (it was 2.15pm) and said we should head off back to the Funicular Railway and so we did.  When we arrived at the bottom it was 2.30pm and he said “I don’t think I can make the hill Jon.”  At this point, I must confess, I did start to panic.  “We’ll get a cab” he said.  Only we soon realised that there were no cabs local to the town and there was no way one was going to get to us before the deadline so we set off, me going slightly ahead and basically lying to him and saying “not far now Ray” and with him (an 84 year old man, 1 year shy of his Diamond wedding anniversary, aided by a walking stick) hobbling away behind me.  Well, we did make it but you could have lit the darkest train tunnel from the light and heat from his face. 

We got to our seats and he just slumped there clutching his chest and arm.  I said “blimey, don’t go dying on me Ray” and he grinned and said he’d be okay in a minute or two.  The train left and it wasn’t until we were about a mile or so out of Bridgnorth, I saw that the chap directly opposite me looked just like Chris Hughes, the big fat-necked bloke on Eggheads and the chap sitting to our left looked like an elderly Basil Rathbone!  Anyhow, we got back to Kiddermister where some more pics were taken of each of us though now I realise I don’t have any of Ray on my camera, as I’d used his to take ones of him for his missus and family.  We got on the coach, set off and were back in Reading by just before 7pm.  I caught a 23 which brought me back home the long way round but was indoors by 7.25pm.  All in all, not a bad day, even if the chap sitting across from me on the coach was wearing the exact same jumper as me!  What were the chances of that?

Mum and I headed into town today but not before she’d taken some pics of me out in the garden for The Onion. I took one of her too. We shopped, we stopped for a cuppa and a slice of carrot cake, then we shopped some more. I bought 3 new jerseys, a pic of me in one of them has been taken for the very same Alium Cepa. I also saw an album The Onion had bought when we were in Winchester – Remembering John Lee Hooker – in the poundstore. I bought all they had – 9 copies. It normally retails at £12.99 so it’s all good. I have a copy on its way to me, so that’s 9 Xmas pressies sorted out except I opened one by accident. So, 8 Xmas pressies and 1 spare for me in case Mum goes on a cleaning blitz in my bedroom and I lose one.

I also picked up a book in FOPP entitled Does Anything Eat Wasps? and 101 Other Questions. It was £7.99 in Waterstones and I picked it up for a fiver! Mum bought herself some clothes in Marks & Spencer, they were all £2 but she can’t take them back but that’s okay. I also found what I’m very likely going to get my beautiful darling Onion for her birthday and I know she’ll love it. We got a sandwich each from Sainsbury’s and sat in Broad Street and ate them then made our way back home. It was a really good day. Tomorrow, I’m off on a trip with Goldline to the Severn Valley Railway so have to be there at 7.30am for that. Mum’s gone to see if she can find me a paper bag for the trip as I will inevitably get a panic attack on the coach but if I don’t go and face this it will only get worse. Right, I’m off here to get another cuppa and spend time with the cats.

Having looked at both the symptoms of Borderline Personality Disorder and Histrionic Personality Disorder, I can see that I do share some of the properties of each. But looking at the other Disorders, I can see I share quite a few properties of those as well, so what does it mean? Still, it makes for an interesting diversion and it’s helped me pass a few minutes while I wait for Mum to get ready so we can head into town, so it’s all good.

To the world you may just be one person – but to one person you may just be the world.

- Unknown.

Who should I see yesterday while in Waitrose but Phil’s wife. She’s a lovely lady. She was a bit unsure of me I think to begin with because I can appear on first glances as a right surly bugger and to be honest, as I’ve now become the infidel, I was a tad worried she’d not want to see me but I risked it and raised a cautious smile and she beamed one back, which illuminated her eyes which in turn caused me to smile more. It was a good moment. I didn’t stop as Mum was rushing me off to get some scones.

Well, we got those and a few other things and headed off to find a checkout that wasn’t too busy when we bumped into each other again. Mum being Mum noticed the J2O’s in her trolley and started talking about them (I marvel at Mum’s ability to engage people on any subject) as we’d sampled some earlier on in the store and Phil’s daughter spoke and I could see him in her face and in the way she spoke, I always love it when you can see that influence. I’m told I look like Mum but I can’t see it myself. Anyhow, we found a checkout, paid then came home.

When I popped into Morrison’s yesterday to get the scones, jam and clotted cream, as well as buying some delicious French brie, I bought a pack of garden boules. Ever since watching A Year in Provence with John Thaw and Lindsay Duncan I’ve wanted my own set. The cheapest I’ve seen them in plastic form has been £6.95 exc. of P&P so imagine my surprise when I saw them for a mere £1.99 – 8 in the pack (4 different colours) and a jack. I initially picked up a set with a grey jack but thought better of it and opted for a white one instead, due to it probably being more visible.

I came home and after having the delicious scone and tea, I went into the garden and tried my hand at boule but it was bloody difficult. There’s a way of throwing the boules so that when they land they don’t bounce and roll off and that’s by using a flick of the wrist (yeah yeah I know what you’re thinking – dirty sods you are!) and an underhand throwing action. I think it best needs to be played in earth or sand because even with the neat little flick I was developing and the jack some way away to take some of the energy out of the throw, they were still going nowhere near where they were meant to.

Oh well…..

I’ve just gone along to my email inbox to be met with a message from Rogett Pippin (whoever he is) and the title of said message being “you can have the dick you’ve always dreamed of.” Yeah well thanks for the offer but I’m more than happy with the one I’ve got if that’s all the same with you?

Can you imagine the shit you get via email coming through the door? Instead of bloody United Christian Broadcasting and the “you’ve been entered into our Special Prize Draw to win a trip for two to Vladivostock” crap, I could get “Viagra – fuck like a stud for hours!” or “XXXX – get your tranny porn here”. It doesn’t bear thinking about does it?