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What to say to a day where you try to do a nice thing (for your 94 year old and increasingly senile grandma) only to be insulted quite rudely (by said grandma – we’re not sure how much dementia is ruling the roost and how much is just her), and then on the way home, discover a flat bike tyre as you get off the train, and the spare tyre tube’s faulty too (but you didn’t know til after you’d been trying to pump it up fruitlessly for at least ten minutes).

Argh!!!

When trying to repair the original tube, discover the hole is in the worst possible spot, and while waiting to see if one of the many things you’ve tried has worked, get approached by a totally drunken bogan who says… ooooh, hey honey, what do YOU neeeeed? …as you frantically pace around trying to work out how to/if you can fix the damn tyre tube at all!

Mumbling more to yourself than anything, Need a band aid or something that might work as a stop-gap to get home!

For some reason the long haired drunken bogan leans in and salaciously whispers, Ohhhh I think I really want yoooouuuu! To which you reply, That’s great but I DON’T want you.. (why don’t really cute guys EVER say things like that?). Standing too close still, Mr Bogan is smoking (a major pet hate) so you tell him to smoke elsewhere. Anywhere else!

Another dude on a bike wanders by to commiserate at which point, Mr Bogan again feels the need to stick his face right near yours, PLEASE get out of my personal space!

Damn bogan!

So you give it up. Put the original tyre back together, wheel back on the bike and resign yourself to more train travel (two trains) and wandering home from the closest station with your poor limp bike and its sadly flaccid front tyre squeaking in protest at having to roll with not enough air in there…

Thank goodness for adorable two year old nieces playing peek-a-boo with your hair and chanting 1-2-3-ready-not! (translation = coming, ready or not!). Giggling in a way even the Mona Lisa couldn’t resist. And three month old baby nieces smiling wide cheesy baby grins, highly infectious those…

Not to mention being grateful for some time to re-read a rather wonderful little book, Cave in the Snow (will do a write up soonish), allowing those latent hermit-like tendencies to quietly re-surface… twas enough, too, to make me laugh at the madness of the day.

~Svasti

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