Easter basket cases

I've done a lot of driving lately.  I went down to Sussex on Friday to pick up my lovely Mum, who is staying with me over Easter.  We're having a bit of a girlie weekend, which is very pleasant. 

Mr WithaY has made himself scarce, off on some woodsmans training course, where he will be honing his bushcraft and survival skills.  I daresay that even now he is sitting by a campfire, munching on pemmican, trying to dry himself off.  He made a batch of venison jerky last week, ready for the weekend.  Then, struck by inspiration, he finely ground up some of the jerky, added dried cranberries and suet, moulded the whole lot into squash-ball-sized lumps and packed it in his survival kit.  He was very proud of it. 

Pemmican.  Mmm.  Fatty.  And if he doesn't get through it all, I daresay the birds will enjoy it.

Anyway, the driving.  I went down to Sussex, as I said, a journey of just about 100 miles which usually takes me 2 hours, give or take a bit.  The weather was horrific.  Heavy, heavy rain, thick blinding spray on the roads, and of course all the fuckwit holiday drivers who are determined to drag their caravans all the way to the South Coast despite the fact that it is like the end of the world outside.

Gah.

I know I've mentioned this on the blog a few times before, but why oh why oh fucking why do people insist on driving with their lights off in poor visibility?  I almost sideswiped a silver van as he came up fast on the outside, completely masked in the spray and gloom.  Luckily I spotted him before I started to overtake the car in front of me, but even so it was close. 

The trip home was marred by traffic.  Traffic traffic traffic.  We sat on the road into Salisbury for 45 minutes, just waiting to get into the city.  Once in, it was fine.  The roads were relatively clear, but the queue on the way was just appalling.  I only went that way because I had driven past miles of traffic heading west down the A303 on the way out that morning, and thought I'd be wily and avoid it going home.

Schoolboy error.

Here's a picture of similar traffic on the A303 I took a while back.  I daresay some of the same cars were in the queue on Friday. 

I logged the queue on Friday at about 6 miles.  Nice.

It took us 3 hours to get home. THREE.  Once here, however, we have been having a nice time.  Yesterday we went for lunch to the rather funky Indian restaurant on the side of the A36, which used to be a Little Chef.  They kept the elephant slide outside but have decorated it tastefully.  Today we plan a trip to the garden centre, as the sun has made an appearance. 

It's all go here.

Not tired of life yet

It's been sunny here for two days in a row. That's more than the weather managed all bloody summer I think.

Was in London on Thursday, when it was NOT sunny. No, it rained. All day, as far as I could tell, and in Biblical proportion. I walked from Victoria station to my office, where I saw a man with extremely elegant shoes completely fail to spot the huge, wide, deep puddle, and wade right through it. He seemed to be occupied with his phone or his iPod or some such toy, and wasn't looking where he was going. So it was kind of self-inflicted. He went the rest of the way doing that one-foot-shake walk. Heh.

I took the lovely Z's advice and checked out the list of Tube stations it is quicker to walk between. Waterloo and Embankment, apparently. I decided to test this, and on the way home I got off the Tube at Embankment, then walked across the river to Waterloo.

Not only did it take if not quite less time, then certainly not much more, it was a nice little bit of exercise (those stairs up onto the bridge!) and it was lovely seeing the city all lit up. I will take my camera and do some pictures next week if I remember.

There was a Christmas fair going on along the South Bank, with stands selling German Food (and why is everything German so much more Christmassy? Answers please) and various other attractions. I didn't stand and look properly as I was in a bit of a hurry to get my train. The South American band who busk under the bridge were playing Christmas songs, rather than the music of the ancient Aztecs, which was lovely to walk along listening to.

I was on the train with a few minutes to spare, so I shall be doing that again. It was less stressful (no worrying about when the next train was turning up), it was lovely to be out in the evening air, and I felt like I stretched my legs a bit after a long day at my desk.

I had considered going out at lunchtime to the big Marks and Spencer close to the office, it being sale day and all, but decided against it. Every time I went to look at it out of the window it was buzzing like a kicked anthill.

In the afternoon I had a meeting on the 8th floor, and gawped out of the window on the landing afterwards. We overlook Buckingham Palace. How chic. Didn't see any members of the Royal household gawping back, twitching the diamond-encrusted net curtains and tutting about the nosy neighbours.

I'm really enjoying London. I daresay the honeymoon will wear off eventually but right now every time I go up to the office it feels like a bit of an adventure. It helps that I am getting to grips with the job too.

Remember I was banging on about people eating delicious-smelling food on trains, and how it ought to be a capital offence? Yeah you do.

Well, there was a chap the other day who topped that particular piece of travel misbehaviour. He was on his mobile to his (presumably) wife, ordering what sounded like a fantastic Indian takeaway, detailing the types of meat dishes, rice, breads, sundries and side dishes. "I'll meet you at the station in 40 minutes, please pick it up on the way to there darling."

Bastard.

I think everyone within earshot's stomach was rumbling as he reeled off the menu. "Yes, the lamb samosa...with chutney. And a chicken biriyani...yes, with the vegetable curry. And a keema naan. Or, no, make that a Peshwari naan. In fact, get both." And on and on it went.

I sat there, wishing I had had the foresight to bring my dull, sad, dry cereal bar with me, instead of leaving it in my desk drawer.

On the bright side, I have lost some weight since starting the new job. Yay me.

Other news: Mr WithaY is finally getting over a heavy cold. I think it is the same cold he had last week, and it never really went away. He spent 3 days this week either in bed or sitting listlessly on the sofa, wrapped in many heavy layers. He is on the mend though, and hopefully has had his share of bugs for the Winter.

I have been offering tea and sympathy from a distance.