Archive for April, 2009

It’s good to talk

Today I got chatting to some marathon runners whilst on the tube on my way home.  Now, I do appreciate that it is not common practice to strike up casual chit-chat with people on the underground – heavens, some might even think it one of the most serious of social taboos – but they were from Ireland, so I thought it would be OK.  They first came on the carriage a couple of stops after me and I realised, by their kit-bags and ‘Dublin Marathon 2009’ T-shirts, that they must have run the London Marathon today.  For some reason this fascinated me.  Here was a group of middle aged men who had all just done the most incredible athletic feat, yet were now just chatting amongst themselves and casually leafing though the Sunday papers – it made me think about all the people I see every day on the tube, who just pass by, but may well have the most fantastic and unusual stories to relate, if only I was able to talk to them.

With this in mind, I unplugged my ears from the sounds of Stevie Wonder and decided to ask them if they really had just run the race (they loved it, but everyone else on the tube obviously thought I should have been certified then and there).  Anyway, it turns out that the man next to me had done it in a weelchair and had been racing since the age of 21 (a long time in his case). Then they all chipped in for a bit of the action and started offering me excersise tips and advice, as well as filling me in on the history of their nicknames etc (to be honest, they had such strong accents and were on such a high, a lot of my contribution was mere guess-work and nodding).  I left them a few stops later, bidding them farewell and good luck, as they were all of to race the Dublin Marathon tomorrow.  Madmen.  But I do wish it was more acceptable to talk to strangers.

On an aside note, I saw ‘State of Play’ today and, although it was a very long film, it really was excellent – I even thought Ben Affleck was good, and that’s saying summat.


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More toilet talk

There is some serious sh*t going down in my street.  Literally.  Following on from my rant about the dog that deposits the hairiest poos ever, today I saw them yet again…but they were white.  Now, from TV programmes and student ranger experience, I know that white plops are caused by the calcium in the bones of an animal’s diet.  This scares me.  Have I inadvertently uncovered a covert murder operation – a la Sweeny Tod but in dog-food style?  I’m actually wondering whether or not I should even post this, for fear that I will get found out and assiasinated in the night…

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Not only has this Easter weekend been fabulous; various wonderful visitors, parties, wine and a truly excellent Easter egg hunt, I have also finally found a soulmate for my goldfish, Santiago.  Her name is Fatima and today I saw them courting in the pond.  You may or may not remember the story of Santiago, a goldfish rescued from a fair, presumed dead, who then proved his mettle by surviving the cold Winter and frozen waters of 2007/8 emerging as a massive, sheening, golden beauty.  Anyway, we decided that it was now time for this goldfish to become a man.  Metaphorically.

So, Saturday saw us head to Notcutts garden centre to pick out his betrothed, rather like an arranged marriage, if you will.  This is not actually her, but it looks just like her (apart from the freckle above her right fin):


My work here is done and there’s now a lorra, lorra love going on in our pond.  Just call me Cilla.

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