Life, And Other Natural Disasters...

Another year passes; this time, Russ's Mother passed during the year, so she has been added to the main headstone.  Someone has cleaned up Russ's stone at the same time.  Bought some roses along this year.  I still miss the old bear.

Caught the coach down from Coalville to London today and noticed that the franchisee for the coach was a Nottingham firm.  Climbed on board and showed the driver my ticket.  Then noticed that the driver was quite bear-y.  Then realised that I knew said bear - he was a friend of Russ rock_bear and we'd driven up to Manchester and back with him and his partner a few years ago.  So, of course, on arrival at Victoria Coach Station, managed to get a free hug off the driver.  That's personal service for you!

And that's the joy of the internet.  While we remember rock_bear, he still lives on...

For some reason today I am missing Russ more so than usual.  I am not sure what brought this on, but am overcome with a wave of melancholia.

I need to splash water on my face and get out of the flat for a bit.

Calm and moderately surprised.

Surprised, because I am where I expected to be.  Nothing went wrong.  And the pessimist in me says yet...

I've been here in Tipton just over 2 weeks now; getting used to catching the bus to work, but trying not to catch it from the nearest bus stop so that I get some sort of a walk in each day, even if it is along the traffic choked road to Oldbury.  Might look into walking along the canal for the summer.  Or maybe getting a pushbike, if I can find somewhere safe at work to store it.  But my luck with anything requiring regular love and attention tends to be bad, so maybe I should stick to walking.

Missed being in Tucson dreadfully; so much so, I am looking at ways of getting there next year.  Book me a space in the hot tub!!!

Got over the first anniversary of rock_bear 's passing.  I have a few pictures of him up on the shelf in the bedroom, and growl at them occasionally.  He's probably sat in the great hereafter playing charades with Joyce Grenfell and Noel Coward in any case and complaining that you just can't f*ck on clouds like you used to.  It would not surprise me.

I keep telling myself; there isn't three feet of snow outside; this is not Siberia or the US Mid-west; it's Sneinton.

But it's bloody cold and I don't want to do anything but curl up on the sofa and eat chocolate.

How very Russ-esque.

Arrived at the Arboretum around 7.30 in the morning to find a somewhat frazzled Nina who had been there since 6 am, to find that the contractors had only delivered double stalls when we needed a mixture.  Fortunately, with a little tactical juggling, Nina re-drew the map and the contractors started to assemble the stalls.  As is their want, stallholders arrived an hour earlier than they were told and were sent down to us sort out.  Finally, after much cursing and grumbling from Nina and myself, the stalls were in place.

Then, the event started.  Much larger than last year; many, many more people than the 1200 predicted.  Fortunately, the beer tents held out as did the caterers.  The weather kept it's promise and did not rain on our parade.   Except, we don't have a parade in Nottingham, but you get the picture.  Unfortunately, I spent most of the afternoon flat on my back as my spine was playing up and I was nowhere near any decent painkillers apart from the can of John Smith's Yorkshire Bitter that Beastie managed to find me.


madamemish's parents were looking for her; they approached Beastie, and I understand the conversation went something like this:-

MM Parents : Have you seen Michelle?
Beastie : There's a tent full of firemen and a TV film crew - where do you think she is?