Friday, 9 August 2013

Rain, reading and, umm, really annoying tourists

After several weeks of sky-high reading figures, it seems my suspect friends from Slovenia and Russia have finally deserted the blog. While it's a wow to see I've had a over hundred visitors a day, I know the majority of them are just zaps from other computers, so don't actually mean a thing. And I resisted the temptation to click on their links. I don't have the money or the energy for what they're promoting. 

Not an awful lot has been going on here. The Daughter has moved house again. I think she's on a mission to try out every house-share in Cornwall, but has now settled for a rather gorgeous town-house, to be shared with three good friends. Son Number One has been celebrating the girlfriend passing her driving test, and Son Number Two is painting a neighbour's fence in between rain storms (yes, we're back to the traditional British Summer). It's just started pouring again, so he's no doubt running down the road and will soon be in for his third change of clothes this morning. 

Yesterday morning was spent at the doctors' surgery. The whole morning. I was only there for my annual asthma check-up, which takes all of five minutes, but I spent over an hour in the waiting room. Waiting. Luckily, I always have a book with me, so my hour was passed more pleasantly than those who just had to stare at the carpet. Being English, we sat there in total silence, with just occasional sighs from those checking their watches. 

My book was a new one, and it was so enjoyable I was quite disappointed when it was my turn to see the nurse. It was a book I bought because I liked the title: Notwithstanding, by Louis de Bernieres. (There should be an accent over the penultimate 'e', but I've never worked out how to do that.) The book is wonderful. It's about an English village 50-odd years ago, and the eccentric people that live there. It's a really easy read, and perfect for stopping you getting cross when your appointment's an hour late. 

Unsurprisingly, after reading for an hour, my blood pressure was 'excellent'. The nurse also said my weight was 'wonderful' (phew...) and my waist measurement was 'perfect', which made me wonder if she was reading from the wrong end of the tape, but I'm not complaining. 

It then took me nearly half an hour to drive the five miles home, as we are in the middle of holiday season. Tourists, combined with the usual tractors (we live in an agricultural area), probably upped the blood pressure slightly. I know tourists bring money into the area, and I'm pleased we live in an area so nice that people want to holiday here, but why do the majority never know where they're going? They slow down at every turning, and I can imagine the snippy conversations going on in the car: 'Not this one, I said "second left", didn't I?'

I know this because we do exactly the same when we go on holiday. Apologies in advance to all those who live in Cornwall. 

No comments:

Post a Comment