Saturday, January 19, 2008

Life Carries On

I'm adjusting.

Strange not to have the silence of a small English village in my ears...instead, to have the sounds of my landlord's children running about upstairs... the rush of cars in the street, the SIRR train in the distance. Walking down to the bus in order to make groceries, and deciding I want the stroll to work off my time away... going a mile before I give into the cold air... and only having to wait a few minutes for transportation... on the right side of the street.

Re-calculating when I shop, remembering the prices are just what they say they are... not double the shown cost. Not seeing things I'm used to; small corn, long counters of cheese, nibbly bits, free range chicken, entire sections of lovely desserts, and things in general are... different.

The clerk bags my food, another change from what I've grown used to... I bring them to my friendly bus, which is free... once again, the machine is broken, and we are all cheery with our saved fares making it a good day.

One thing I did take home with me, something I've put off, something I'm not tickled with....

My glasses chain.

Yes, I, Quin, was forced to use a glasses chain. After losing one pair of glasses on my third day, and walking about the rest of the time saying, "Where are my glasses?" (I need them for reading, thank you very much)... Loo said, "Right, that's it. Get a chain."

I did.

They laughed. They pointed. But, they were pleased they no longer had to look for glasses.

They just had to look for glasses and a chain.

And pick up my book when I left it on a bench in London, and help me find a hat and my knitting and my shoes and....

At least, I can find the glasses.... even if I do look like Principal McGee. I'd thought I might go for the pince-nez look... but, alas, I'm stuck with my reading glasses and a chain that is around my neck, keeping them in place... making me feel...


Our Neville Fact:

Neville has a sister, Beatrice, who is married and lives in Surrey. She and Neville seldom speak, having had a row over the Will left by their father, who divided his property equally, however, he left his Piece of Cloth touched by a Crusader to Beatrice. This was an heirloom, and much coveted by both. Neville felt this should have come to him, as the eldest child and only son, as had been the tradition for anger, he said his sister had tricked their father into changing his will. Beatrice, called Trippy by her horse set friends, told Neville he was a sorry old sod, and never spoke to him again. She and her husband, Geoffrey along with their three children, Audrey, Neville (named before the Great Row) and Davina all pretend they don't know Neville when they see him yearly at the family gathering in Wiltshire. It makes for an uncomfortable day for everyone else, and Cousin Sevilla gets potted with the good sherry to help deal with the stress.


golfwidow said...

Occasionally, Neville has a small brandy and weeps into it, "It should have been mine," and the barkeep says, "It were a tatty bit o' blanket, let 'er keep it."

Peter Varvel said...

Old-schmold. If your glasses chain gives you one less thing to worry about, on a daily basis, I say it's worth it.

austere said...

You keep your chain; I'm staying with the lovely silver in my otherwise black mane- if someone cant take it,why,they shouldn't be there.