It’s a slow morning here in Chateaux FencingSculptor, as evidenced by the fact that I've spent a disproportionate time this morning brushing up on my Chewbacca/Wookiee impression.
It's getting rather good imho and is quite useful when tinkering with the somewhat temperamental boiler. Hands to head look up queue a doleful, pained Wookie warble.
I should probably go out today...
After the mornings rather whimsical departure from reality I decided to pop out to run a few errands.
I decided to go to Croydon, so left the house and crossed the road to take a bus to the end of the tram route.
Half way across the road I decided maybe it would be better just to catch a bus going the other direction to the nearest tram stop, as what with it being a Saturday afternoon, I'd have no trouble in getting a seat a couple of tram stops on from the terminus and started to retrace my steps.
Then I changed my mind and returned to the side of the road that would take me to the terminus.
At which point I saw a bus coming from the opposite direction , going to a completely different town Bromley. So of course I pelted back across the road and got that bus instead, negating the need for a tram to anywhere.
So that was one thing sorted.
Once in Bromley I popped into the bank and paid in some cash which I had been saving for my new computer but which I completely blew on an extravagant and ridiculously huge BMF on Tuesday night. If it wasn't the most impressive piece of merchandise I'd ever laid eyes on I'd being feeling even more wretchedly stupid than I already am. More on that another time.
Then I headed to boots to pick up a prescription for some antibiotics. Unfortunately the ankle that was operated on has become infected. So far it's only minor but the Doc has prescribed antibiotics to prevent further infection. Hopefully it won't undo the good work done by the surgeon.
I also had to pick up some cream for athletes foot. I've never had Athletes foot before, well never had it diagnosed before, but it's quite uncomfortable and been bothering me for a long while now. But generally I have a fairly high pain threshold and so unless something has actually dropped off, I tend not to bother the doc. Mainly on account of him being a quite spectacularly poor GP! I am quite disconcerted by the fact that he usuall tend to ask me how I'd consider treating whatever it was I came to him about.
Still at least my athletes foot is caused from some actual athleticism as opposed to - stanin' around like, in da Mall in ma JB sports gear wearin ma Hoodie and chillin wiv ma m8s and ma Acne and sweaty old nike trainners innit ..
So YAY ME ! Smug Foot fungus !
While waiting for my prescription to be made up ( I have no idea why it takes so long, it's not as if they manufacture the pills - the read the form, pick up a box pop it in the bag and seal it with a little label - really 5 seconds work …but nooooo I was told it would be 20 minutes!) I wondered off in a northwards direction exploring the top end of Bromley which I've never ventured into before.
I found a small pedestrian only road and wandered down it. The road opened up to a Sainsbury's car park on one side and an old brick wall, about 7 foot tall on the other side. The wall was made of old interesting and irregular shaped bricks and it's top had broken bottles and shards of glass cemented in to the top. It struck me as a very 1970's type of thing to do to keep people out. Behind the wall was what looked like a large Rectangular Georgian Building several stories high, surrounded by slightly unkept lawns and tired old trees. The building could have been an old Hospital or some sort of institution. It was not dilapidated, but like it's grounds it looked tired in places. At the end of the wall, was a small cottage set into the grounds. Almost a little gatehouse although there was no gatehouse to speak of. Maybe it was a groundskeepers cottage. Again something you just don't see these days. Behind and to the side of this large old building was a small open park which like it's neighbour looked like it had seem better days. Not run down , so much , but with plants and trees and flower beds that were sort of …hanging on, without anything new being done to them. The park was deserted apart from 40 so fed up looking feral pigeons. I sat down and read a couple of chapters of my book. Having now read all my books on War and nountaineering, and run out of waiting list books I decided to reread the chronicles of Narnia , but not on the bus full of Happy Slappy Hoodies where they could see a grown bloke reading the Magicians Nephew. After a couple of chapters I then walked back into the town centre and picked up my prescription antibiotics.
On they way through the high Street I saw a plant stall which I have visited a couple of times in the last month. Mum had told me that a few weeks back the woman had been selling Acer trees very cheaply, but on the previous occasions I checked she hadn't had any. Today however, she did. She was selling two small acers (12 inches or so tall) for £4 and two medium sized plants (just short of 3 foot tall) for only £10! This is a real bargain price, and I'd pay at least twice if not three times as much in a garden centre, so I bought two, one small bushy one and tall leggy one (which might need some matriarchally supervised pruning).
I decided to name them, and eventually settled on Laurel and Hardy. I think you could describe Acers as hardy plants...but they're deffinately not in th elaurel bush family. It made a weird kind of sense to me anyway. Assuming of course, that Stan Laurel is the skinny clumsy one and Olly Hardy was the larger of the two…..
I'm pretty sure I got that right ...but I often get confused It's been, well, 'one of those days'….