My mom has been up here for the past few days, painting my kitchen, living room, hallway and bathroom for me and getting rid of the stale old magnolia that the builders slapped on the walls when the house was built two and a half years ago. Now it’s finished, it looks absolutely gorgeous - a really lovely job done.
Saw the strangest thing whilst out at lunch today. There’s a brick bus shelter just outside the park next to the university, and there was a homeless person sleeping inside it, sheltering from the rain. Curled up on the floor surrounded by carrier bags carrying his possessions, he was oblivious to everything - including the huge brown rat that appeared to be sleeping just in front of him. Was it a pet? Was it a wild rat who just happened to fancy sheltering from the rain too? If it was, why was it sleeping out in the open like that, so close to a human? Mysterious.
From the archives of a great site I’ve just discovered and promptly bookmarked, Word Wizard, one of a collection of limericks celebrating the craziness of language pronunciation:
There was a young man from Dun Laoghaire,
Who propounded an interesting thaoghaire;
That the language of Erse,
Has a shortage of verse,
‘Cos the spelling makes poets so waoghaire.
Bicycles and loose-fit trousers do not mix. I found this out yesterday, cycling to the cinema.
It’s only a 10 minute bike ride, away from the main roads, and yesterday was a nice day, so I figured I’d cycle. I got as far as Valley Centertainment, the complex that the cinema is on, and I’d sped up on the cycle path final straight when the hem of my trousers suddenly got caught in my bicycle chain, and I went somersaulting right over my handlebars. I landed on the tarmac and scraped across it, ending up entangled in my bike. Luckily, I’d crashlanded right by a restaurant on one side and a pedestrian path on another, so I was surrounded by five people and the complex security guards within about 10 seconds. They lifted the bike off me and guided me over to a seat in the restaurant, whilst one of the guys called for an ambulance. The initial shock wore off quickly enough for my back to start stinging like buggery. My rescuers took stock of what I’d done (banged my head, scraped my back) and we waited for the ambulance to show up.
When it did, the paramedics looked me over and took me out to Rotherham Hospital, where I discovered the full extent of the injuries. Lump on my head, several layers of skin scraped off my chin, chest, right hand side from shoulder to lower back, elbow, knee, and calf. I’d also twisted my torso so I couldn’t put any weight on my right foot. Thankfully, nothing was broken. They patched up the worst of the scrapes on my back with a couple of dressings, and sent me home. I now have a limp to rival the best of them, and a healthy amount of embarrassment and self-pity. Time to invest in a chain guard or some bicycle clips, I think!
