another tale from a London bus

So there I was on the way home, minding my own business and failing to level up on Angry Birds Rio when I felt a tap on my shoulder.  I looked up and saw a thin woman in a beautiful jade green velvet coat grinning toothlessly at me.
"You're just a lump of meat, darling," she said.  I must have looked exactly as puzzled as I felt because she kindly expanded, nodding towards the man sitting next to me.  "To your husband.  You're just a lump of brown meat."
My "husband" looked up from his book and we exchanged amused glances.
"He ain't anything special," she carried on.  "He can go and f*** himself.  You're just a lump of brown meat."
And then the bus came to a stop and she ambled off.

I love London!

neighbours revisited

My downstairs neighbours (as whinged about in my last post) have been making their presence felt again.  I was rudely awakened past midnight one night last week by the now-familiar bang on my front door followed by the sound of little feet pounding back down the stairs.  I furiously bounced out of bed, threw on my dressing gown and flung open my front door, intending to give the parents A Piece of My Mind.  I was stopped in my tracks, though, by the sound of voices in the hallway below.  Peering over the bannister I saw Ground Floor Neighbour (who lives directly below Mister, Missus and Young Child) talking to Missus.

Ground Floor Neighbour is a gentle, softly spoken young psychiatrist.  In the six years I have known him, I have never heard him say a harsh - or indeed loud - word.  He had clearly been pushed to his limit by Young Child that night as he told Missus exactly how he felt. Missus, to give her her due, said that she would stop Young Child using the stairs and hallways as her treadmill - and she has.  Young Child still thunders up and down the hall in their own flat, and screams for about 85% of the time she is awake (she's doing both now, actually, at 10.25 at night) but at least we now all know we won't be startled out of 5 years' growth by her banging on doors.

neighbours

I have new-ish downstairs neighbours.  They moved in a couple of months ago, and such is the nature of London life that I haven't met Mister yet.

I've met Missus, though, a few weeks ago.  I had just come in and was picking up my post when she accosted me.
"Who are you?" she frowned
"Oh hello," I smiled.  "I'm Illanare, I live in the flat above you."
"Can you prove it?"
"I'm sorry?"  (I genuinely thought I had mis-heard her)
"Can you prove you live here?  You could be anyone and I have a young child"
"Well I let myself in with my keys, I'm picking up my post and I know that I live above you.  If you need any more confirmation of my identity then just ask our other neighbours" and I stalked away in quite the temper.

I haven't met Young Child but I am familiar with her work.  She's about 5 years old and she screams.  A lot.  Sometimes I know when the family have come home before they enter the building because I can hear her screaming when the car door opens.  I do realise that it must be exhausting and frustrating for her parents (it certainly is for me and I'm a whole floor removed from the epicentre) but I also wish that they could come up with a better way of letting her blow off steam than allowing her to run up and down the communal stairs, screaming at the pitch of her healthy young lungs and hitting the front door of other flats (including mine).  It's very tiring...

five

Today would have been A's and my 5-year anniversary.
Meh.

festival

Sometimes I forget how much I love my city, so it's nice to be reminded:

memes

I'm sure that by now most of us are aware of a completely asinine meme doing the rounds on F@ceb00k where women falsely post that they are x number of weeks pregnant and craving something - to raise breast cancer awareness.  No further information or link to a charity or organisation goes with these status updates.  Forget the pain this particular meme causes infertile and babyloss parents - how does it raise awareness of cancer?

After deleting what must have been the 17th "update" a sort of red mist descended and I thought that I would start a new meme on my status update:
13weeks, 18weeks, 5 weeks: 
http://www.october15th.com/ 
http://www.miscarriageassociation.org.uk/

Paige has a more beautiful idea.

Any thoughts?

summer reading

The August bank holiday is behind us, schools go back this week, and the shops are starting to sell Christmas cards (I know).  All can only add up to one thing: autumn is upon us.

I didn't do a whole lot with the summer, but I did do a little reading.  Would you like me to share what I read with you?  (Hint: the correct answer here is "yes").

I started reading "Mennonite in a Little Black Dress" by Rhoda Janzen back in the spring, but there was a long hiatus while I sat and stared at the wall during the immediate aftermath of A leaving.  I'm so glad that I picked it up again, it's a wonderfully witty and honest read.

I have never read any of Joyce Carol Oates' work before, but I read a review of her latest book "A Widow's Story" and just had to read it.  It's honest and raw and beautifully written - and emotionally draining.

I really needed something light-hearted after that so I chose "Confessions of a GP" by Benjamin Daniels. It was as amusing but also details some of the frustrations faced by those working in the NHS, so was sort of a busman's holiday.

Next up were also emotionally draining but in different ways to each other.  Practically every third person on the bus was reading "When God was a Rabbit" by Sarah Winman this summer, so I joined the herd.  And bought "Between Shades of Grey" by Ruta Sepetys at the same time (you've got to love Waterstones' deals)

I really, really needed light and fluffy afterwards and I got exactly that in "Round the World in 80 Dates" by Jennifer Cox (charity shop find at £1 - would have been rude not to) and "A Tiny Bit Marvellous" by Dawn French.  (Although this does have a bit of a disturbing subplot).

A few years ago, while I was visiting my friend Too in the West Country, I found the first of a series of locally-set books and have made a bit of a tradition of buying each new one here.  For me personally the main appeal of the series is that it is set in a town I love and have come to know fairly well.  And they are quite fun to read.  This summer's title is "In a Small Town" (by Debby Fowler).

I read "Life After Forty" by Dora Heldt while sunning myself on holiday.  The main character is a woman of a certain age dealing with the aftermath of a relationship breakdown.  Can't think why I was drawn to it... :-)  Even though the blurb nods at  "Bridget Jones' Diary" (apparently it is impossible to review any book about a single woman without doing so), this book is nothing like the other.  It is an absorbing story and I finished it in a day, so I had to delve into the delights that is an hotel book exchange, which is where I found a couple of thrillers to take down to the beach for the rest of the holiday.  "Therapy" by Sebastian Fitzek and "What to do When Someone Dies" by Nicci French.

And currently?  Why, currently I am reading "Life From Scratch" by our very own Melissa Ford.