I've got myself a job. At least, a temporary job. I'm working for a charity as a data entry clerk. It's opened my eyes to how generous people can be. I looked through some of the letters that accompanied donations and they were full of support and well wishes. It feels good, even for a little while, to be a part of something so great.
The British don't always have the best of reputations. We're not called "whinging poms" for nothing, after all. And there has been moments where I've thought that all people can do is complain about...everything! The weather, the news, the state of the country, the poor television, even down to whether a certain word (like "amazing", for example) is over used in day time t.v.; I could go on and on, I'm sure. But, the truth is, there are a lot of generous and kind souls out there.
It feels really good to be working again. Full time hours. Work that is constant all day (a new one for me). There's no time for daydreams; that, I can save for my journey home. Today was the first time I came home from a job and felt like I'd actually done a full day's work. I felt I'd achieved something.
The problem with temporary work is that it's, well, temporary. But it's work, so I'm not complaining. And, even better, I'm working for a charity that I've wanted to work for/with for a long time. :-)
Friday, 17 September 2010
Monday, 13 September 2010
37. Spiders
Spiders! It's that time of year again when the house spiders start coming in. We've had four in a week, and I've been on removal duties, glass and cardboard at the ready.
The last spider I removed was...active. I felt something crawl on my arm and, girl-like, I ran around the living room until I was sure it wasn't on me. Don't get me wrong: I'm not scared of spiders...except when they crawl on me. That, I don't like. Anyway, after I calmed down, I found the fella running around on the floor. After a trial - it was one of those really fast ones - I caught it. I heard it go "chink" against the glass as it fought against its imprisonment. It wasn't a happy spider. As I carried it outside, it reared up and I could practically hear it hissing. I walked it up to the top of the road, just to make sure it didn't come back. I watched it creep off into the darkness.
The last spider I removed was...active. I felt something crawl on my arm and, girl-like, I ran around the living room until I was sure it wasn't on me. Don't get me wrong: I'm not scared of spiders...except when they crawl on me. That, I don't like. Anyway, after I calmed down, I found the fella running around on the floor. After a trial - it was one of those really fast ones - I caught it. I heard it go "chink" against the glass as it fought against its imprisonment. It wasn't a happy spider. As I carried it outside, it reared up and I could practically hear it hissing. I walked it up to the top of the road, just to make sure it didn't come back. I watched it creep off into the darkness.
Sunday, 5 September 2010
36. Knights of the Road
I have a twelve year old car. At least, I think it's 12 years old...I never bothered to work out her actual age. I think if it was converted to human years, then she might get a bit embarrassed if I told you. Yes, you read "she".
My car is a she and - close your eyes now if you don't like rude names - she's called "The Bitch". It was a name she got when I first bought her and the gears were...defective. She's been good as gold ever since but the name kind of stuck. Oh, she's had her little expenses. The starter motor, and the windscreen wiper (not the blade, the actual metal part, which costs a fortune). But she's a good car.
Today, however, she broke down. In the worst place possible. On the A30 (the busiest therefore most dangerous, and main road - "arterial route" - through Cornwall), in a place where it turns into a single-carriage road, and with a blind corner.
Imagine driving up a hill and then hearing a snap...and then feeling your accelerator pedal turn floppy. I moved in automation: first mirror check; then hazard lights; then keep going as far as the decelerating car could get us to a safe zone. There was no safe zone. Edged into the side of the road, as tightly as I could get, we got out of the car and waded through soaking grass and bushes to get to a nearby gate where I called the AA.
I am so glad I renewed my AA membership this year. It makes sense, with an older vehicle, but sometimes you have to think about budgets. The woman said it could take up to an hour! In the soaking, foggy rain and cars whizzing by like it was a motorway, not even slowing down to overtake. OMG.
There was a little voice inside me, though, that whispered that my car was old: one small dent and it would be written off; the insurance money would come in handy right now. But the worst thing I imagined was that someone would be overtaking at speed and hit someone driving in the opposite direction. There's no way I'd want to ever put anyone in danger. So we called the police.
While we waited, people drove past with glares. Cold, hard faces that were somehow blaming us for causing them 2 seconds delay on their journey. No one stopped. Out of the four cars that used their hazards to warn other people of the danger, two of them were foreign. That, out of hundreds of cars. What has happened to people that has turned them into these uncaring people who get angry about the fraction of inconvenience we caused?
And the knights of the road: the policeman and the AA-man. They were great! Only when the policeman showed up, did the cars slow down and the cold glares change to curiosity. The AA man put us on a tow bar and took us to a garage so he could fix the car with a temporary accelerator cable (being towed with no power steering nor servo-assisted brakes was the strangest experience I've ever had in a car). These are the people who put themselves in danger on busy roads to assist people like us. And I'd like to say a big THANK YOU! :-)
And, after all, it was like a mini adventure. Breaking down. Having the blue flashing lights of a copper come to keep us, and others, safe on the roads. Being towed, and having a police escort (okay, one motorbike up to the roundabout, but it felt good). And the car...fixed and working again. And for some, that's just in a working day. :-)
My car is a she and - close your eyes now if you don't like rude names - she's called "The Bitch". It was a name she got when I first bought her and the gears were...defective. She's been good as gold ever since but the name kind of stuck. Oh, she's had her little expenses. The starter motor, and the windscreen wiper (not the blade, the actual metal part, which costs a fortune). But she's a good car.
Today, however, she broke down. In the worst place possible. On the A30 (the busiest therefore most dangerous, and main road - "arterial route" - through Cornwall), in a place where it turns into a single-carriage road, and with a blind corner.
Imagine driving up a hill and then hearing a snap...and then feeling your accelerator pedal turn floppy. I moved in automation: first mirror check; then hazard lights; then keep going as far as the decelerating car could get us to a safe zone. There was no safe zone. Edged into the side of the road, as tightly as I could get, we got out of the car and waded through soaking grass and bushes to get to a nearby gate where I called the AA.
I am so glad I renewed my AA membership this year. It makes sense, with an older vehicle, but sometimes you have to think about budgets. The woman said it could take up to an hour! In the soaking, foggy rain and cars whizzing by like it was a motorway, not even slowing down to overtake. OMG.
There was a little voice inside me, though, that whispered that my car was old: one small dent and it would be written off; the insurance money would come in handy right now. But the worst thing I imagined was that someone would be overtaking at speed and hit someone driving in the opposite direction. There's no way I'd want to ever put anyone in danger. So we called the police.
While we waited, people drove past with glares. Cold, hard faces that were somehow blaming us for causing them 2 seconds delay on their journey. No one stopped. Out of the four cars that used their hazards to warn other people of the danger, two of them were foreign. That, out of hundreds of cars. What has happened to people that has turned them into these uncaring people who get angry about the fraction of inconvenience we caused?
And the knights of the road: the policeman and the AA-man. They were great! Only when the policeman showed up, did the cars slow down and the cold glares change to curiosity. The AA man put us on a tow bar and took us to a garage so he could fix the car with a temporary accelerator cable (being towed with no power steering nor servo-assisted brakes was the strangest experience I've ever had in a car). These are the people who put themselves in danger on busy roads to assist people like us. And I'd like to say a big THANK YOU! :-)
And, after all, it was like a mini adventure. Breaking down. Having the blue flashing lights of a copper come to keep us, and others, safe on the roads. Being towed, and having a police escort (okay, one motorbike up to the roundabout, but it felt good). And the car...fixed and working again. And for some, that's just in a working day. :-)
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