Just had an absolutely super day!
Despite all the omens.
Well, despite the weather at least.
Cos it was grey. It was chilly. It was damp. In fact, it was wet… quite wet. Cos it was raining. About the only thing missing were gale force winds. But the weather’s always unco-operative like that, innit?
Ahem… really shouldn’t use that expression “innit” for I genuinely do detest it. Typical Bedfordian chav-type expression spewing forth from the mouths of those who know little better, can’t be bothered to learn, and don’t see the point anyway. So they tack it on to the end of almost every sentence, regardless. But hey, I’m in Bedfordshire so let’s be like the locals, innit!
Now where was I?
Ah yes, the weather. Well, today had been pencilled in for a little photo jaunt with a new-found Flickr chum.
Arrangements duly made, with just a passing and little considered reference to “weather permitting”, sure enough we hook up late morning in the middle of a very soggy town centre.
Adjourn to the nearest coffee shop then whilst we review the prospects.
“Well, I’m ok with it”, says one, “what about you?”
“Yeah, I’m ok with it. You?”
This bounces back and forth a coupla times and there’s me thinking “ey up, ‘ere’s a bloke after me own ‘eart”; ‘cept strictly speaking she wasn’t actually a bloke. But that’s completely beside the point.
So we sally forth in challenge to the elements, accompanied by the slight inconvenience of not quite having managed to work out any sort of plan or itinerary for ourselves. Oh well. That’s about par for the course. For me anyway.
And find ourselves snapping a few pics of the market… and exchanging remarks with an interested market trader and an intrigued passer-by who clearly thought we were both nuts to be out photographing in the rain. Either that or extremely dedicated. But missing the most obvious explanation… hey, its fun!
Then amble on a bit more, still completely planless, and what’s this I find? Well well well, what a surprise. Somehow we seem to have ended up by the river. Now isn’t that just so unusual! It must be all of… ooh… a week at least since I was last round this way.
Shouldn’t really be named the “Ouse” at all. It should be named the “Sucks”. Cos it sucks one toward it. Or seems to. But then again, “The River Sucks” doesn’t really sound quite right somehow.
Snapping our way along then, oodles of shots begins to mark the re-appearance of a phrase that rapidly transforms into the motto of the day. A phrase with which I’m well familiar, and generally doesn’t bode well…
“Hey, this looks great… on the LCD!”
Ah yes. That phrase.
And boy has it lived up to its promise. In my case at least. No doubt I’ll find out in due course how well companion did, but I bet she ends up with more keepers than I. Pooh!
Nevertheless, I’m reasonably well satisfied with those that have sort of worked.
And there’s one particular little series that truly delights me.
There we were, wandering along by the river, crossing a little footbridge, pausing to snap some fungi sort of stuff on a tree stump cos that’s the type of thing photographers do, innit…
… then, rounding a bend, our two voices can be heard exclaiming in joyful and unplanned unison… “Shoes!”
There, spread out before us, by the water’s edge, were loads of discarded trainers. Only a nutty photo addict can truly appreciate the sheer excitement and glee in such an unexpected discovery.
On second thoughts, chavs would probably have appreciated it too. Regarded it as a sort of windfall and made off with them all.
Presumably they’d been hastily shed by folk even dafter than we… members of the local rowing club, eager to get out on the water regardless of these miserably dank conditions. Takes all sorts I s’pose.
Onward then, and a few shots later finds us contemplating the temptations of another coffee. Succumbing, we leave the river behind in search of a suitable house of refreshment.
And a bit of a natter about Life, the Universe, and stuff in general.
Bodily needs attended to, more food for the spirit as, like filings to a magnet, the river draws us back for more pics of gorgeously moist scenery.
All good things must come to an end of course, and eventually companion has to shoot off so I, seemingly guided by some sort of autopilot, find myself mysteriously back at The Bear where my favourite pastime of trying to irritate the hell out of mate has to be indulged. Innit.
That done, onward to the shops for some much-needed provisions, then wend my way home.
And this is where it all begins to go slightly downhill. In the metaphorical sense. Cos the homeward journey, literally speaking, is largely uphill. But that’s neither here nor there. Which is where you are when you’re on a bus. Neither here nor there.
(I do so wish I could stop these digressions, but my mind just gets carried away on its own sometimes. Hmm. How I seriously wish it would!)
Back on track then…
Y’see, throughout the course of the entire day I’d managed to remain relatively wet-free. The waterproof jacket helped somewhat of course (they very often do), as did a bloody stupid-looking hat to which I’d treated myself yesterday, that now turns out to be quite water-resistant, warm, and amazingly comfortable. (And I’m a hero for continuing to wear it after all the mickey-taking that mate enjoyed at my expense!)
As for the damp patches on the knees (whaddya expect if you absolutely must go kneeling around in puddles and stuff?), well, I wasn’t too fussed about those.
But Fate was not to be cheated.
There was I, sat quietly on the bus minding my own business when I get this strange sensation that my leg’s beginning to feel increasingly… er… damp. Not to put too fine a point on it, quite wet in fact.
Pretending nothing’s amiss (don’t want to draw attention to myself now do I?) much of the journey is occupied by my placidly mulling over the possibility that perhaps the senility about which I so often jest is in fact a disturbing reality.
Yet I’m certain I visited the loo, on at least two different occasions, during the course of today’s little adventure. Once in the middle of our jaunt, and once back at The Bear. I’m sure I did. Didn’t I?
But then, as I alight from the bus, the truth is finally revealed.
Quite clearly the sodding top must have worked loose on the bottle of milk I bought in the shop and the bloody stuff has leaked out of the bottom of the bag… which I was nursing on my lap… and all down the side of my leg!
Of course, if I had more than one brain cell I would’ve realised that had it truly been some less wholesome… er… fluid, then it likely would have been warm wet rather than cold wet. But then, stupidity’s something of a speciality with me. I’m beginning to suspect I’ve almost refined it into an artform in fact!
Dammit! Hell, double dammit!
So the walk home from the bus-stop was something along the lines of step step shake, step step shake… etc. Just as well it was dark else this unusual gait may have caused some merriment to the natives.
But at least its something of a relief to know that the senility’s not quite as advanced as I was beginning to suspect (hell, incontinence is so… um… wet); and it can’t detract from my having had a thoroughly enjoyable day.