Monday morning musings
Monday, April 27th, 2009 10:55 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
caddymanI am a bit soggy.
There was light rain when I exited Victoria tube station, so I left my bag on my shoulders, hunched over a bit and strode out. Shortly thereafter the heavens opened and I got drenched. It was one of those occasions when stopping, taking off the rucksack and digging around for my brolly would just have made things worse. On the bright side, of course, there is virtually no pollen around today, so I can actually breathe.
Thus starts my last week at work before the trip to St David’s, which I am looking forward to greatly, though I don’t know everyone else who is going and am on a little more than polite nodding terms with the rest. Still, I am sure they are all fine people and we shall have a splendid time. I am pretty self-sufficient anyway, so if it turns out that we have little in common (which I doubt), a good book or two, my iPod, laptop and a drawing pad will give me what I need to pass the time. Anyway, it’s on the Welsh coast and, I am told, quiet and scenic, so the quiet and sea air will perform their usual resuscitative magic.
I don’t have the hair or boots for the full Heathcliffe thing, (though I do have a huge floppy shirt) but I can still stride across the cliff tops taking in the air and staring out to sea in a properly moody fashion. Maybe I should get myself a stick? I can look the part in my head if nowhere else.
I am distressed to hear that the local aquarium is long since closed. I would have given anything to see the large, empty tank holding a single huge and ancient one-eyed fish that Furtle talks about, and the bucket of crabs. I shall get her to show me where it used to be, so I can place the story in context. It is Wales after all, so there is bound to be an element of the surreal still in situ.
There was light rain when I exited Victoria tube station, so I left my bag on my shoulders, hunched over a bit and strode out. Shortly thereafter the heavens opened and I got drenched. It was one of those occasions when stopping, taking off the rucksack and digging around for my brolly would just have made things worse. On the bright side, of course, there is virtually no pollen around today, so I can actually breathe.
Thus starts my last week at work before the trip to St David’s, which I am looking forward to greatly, though I don’t know everyone else who is going and am on a little more than polite nodding terms with the rest. Still, I am sure they are all fine people and we shall have a splendid time. I am pretty self-sufficient anyway, so if it turns out that we have little in common (which I doubt), a good book or two, my iPod, laptop and a drawing pad will give me what I need to pass the time. Anyway, it’s on the Welsh coast and, I am told, quiet and scenic, so the quiet and sea air will perform their usual resuscitative magic.
I don’t have the hair or boots for the full Heathcliffe thing, (though I do have a huge floppy shirt) but I can still stride across the cliff tops taking in the air and staring out to sea in a properly moody fashion. Maybe I should get myself a stick? I can look the part in my head if nowhere else.
I am distressed to hear that the local aquarium is long since closed. I would have given anything to see the large, empty tank holding a single huge and ancient one-eyed fish that Furtle talks about, and the bucket of crabs. I shall get her to show me where it used to be, so I can place the story in context. It is Wales after all, so there is bound to be an element of the surreal still in situ.