Minnie’s Musings

From the bed to the sofa.

From The Archers to A Place in the Sun.

Then one remembered that one has run out of milk and one needs something for supper. So one has now moved to high street, bought essentials and collapsed in local cafe after exertions.

One is exhausted after a wonderful day taking the train to Cardiff to meet uni chum and then stop off in Bristol for catch up with a niece.

Uni chum and I compared haircuts (both chopped short, mine a tad drastically) and shopped in Clarks for sensible shoes. Between bemoaning the greys and planter fasciitis we took up residence in an independent cafe and gutted the lives of our children (now all growed up) before getting frightfully excited during an exchange of resources in the way that teachers do.
I have just moved into adult learning and she has been at it for 12 years. She showed me her favourite quiz app and I showed her my diagnostic excel spreadsheet. Deeply satisfying. We are going to meet term we have decided.
Well that’s the hope. For despite being all growed up offspring still seem to require an inordinate amount of tender care.
The trains seemed ultra busy with people pouring in and out of cities for a day or evening of fun. Lads in jeans and polos, girls in the skimpiest of skirts. I still hear mother’s voice warning “You’ll get a cold in your kidneys in that.”

Stopped at Fulton Abbey Wood which appears to be slap bang in the middle of an MOD site. Lots of high fencing and razor wire. Panic was assuaged by niece appearing in the distance, arms outstretched for a big hug. Dinner, dissection and discussion of house sales and wedding plans ended a delightful day.

And then I earned a brownie point for supporting a neonatal nurse who had just pulled her back lifting a baby. She could barely stand once I helped her off her waiting room seat (the cold metal of which will not have helped).

A crowded platform including a variety of large inebriated lads who were good humoured but raucous meant our acquaintance was extended to finding seats together on the train and me digging around in the bottom of my bag for my stash of painkillers.

The sisterhood is a good thing. It recognises when a situation isn’t necessarily dangerous but is intimidating, however unintentional. Some of the sisterhood aren’t big or strong. Sometimes we need a marginally bigger, not much stronger but much more belligerent sister to see a way through.
Bout of virtue signalling must come to an end as I have to get ready for the coming week. Was enjoying day on the sofa. Hey ho!