Monday, June 12, 2006

From the bottom of the treacle well....


Some rain moved in overnight, and now we have warm treacle, or maybe hot soup. Disgusting, whatever. The back room with the fan on is the only really comfortable place to be, so maybe I will get some stuff done today. We shall see.

So, I survived my weekend. Saturday in the city was.....well, let's say I had all my prejudices confirmed. The ones about football and its supporters, anyway. Because I am so supremely disinterested in football, the England team, David thing and his two-word vocabulary, and (OK, so I have heard it is on) the World Cup, I had not realised that there was an England game on Saturday.

Now, this had the advantage that driving in to Manchester was a pleasure, with about three other cars on the road. But to get to the theatre, we had to pass the big screen next to M&S. I don't do heat, I don't do crowds, I don't do football.....the DSM was a star and came in to his own. Mind you, some of this was self interest, as he was a bit scared that my mouth would run off into a rant and we would be lynched, so every few seconds he squoze my hand reassuringly whilst pushing me in the small of the back to get me past the next obstruction....but I was good.

So, it was a friendly crowd. That was good. The beer aroma had not yet reached tangible level. The songs were - well, I was going to say interesting, but no, they weren't, and not songs either. Drones. With fascinating lyrics, like "Liverpool are shit" and - well, nothing else. Just that, over and over and over and over and ov....yawn.

But what got me, really, really got me, and here comes the boring, middle-age, middle class rant, yes, ok, I know that and I don't care. Was the litter, the rubbish, the filth. Plastic bottles, cans, burger boxes, sandwich packs, every sort of food and drink related detritus you can possibly imagine. Totally disgusting. So much for the beautiful game. I was ranting to my friend who joined us at the theatre, and when we came out and walked back that same way, she looked at the litter lying around and thought it not to bad, not much worse than a usual Saturday. I had to point out to her that a clean-up crew had been through, and this was the next accretion........

The play was great, though.

We went plant shopping yesterday, took ages, partly because of the dead slow or stop speed necessitated by the temperature, so it was late afternoon when we got back. I was positively forced to take a "nap" which was meant just to be a fifteen minute lie down listening to my iPod. Unfortunately, I fell completely asleep, which meant that I missed a great chunk of my current book. Which is "lady Susan" by Jane Austen, and if you haven't read it, do, for a truly great treat. One of literature's most towering monsters limned by the subtly ironic pen of Our Greatest Authoress.

So, no fibre stuff. Too damn hot. Let us see what the week brings, eh?

1 comment:

Liz said...

although I do love a good game of footie, I am not a fan of the filthy masses who populate the game. I hate needless trashing and mindless chanting. I enjoyed the England Game here on my sofa with a cup of good strong coffee, and my needlefelting.I could never understand the mindless tossing of trash that happens with drunkenness. And I am not even middle aged,I live in a beautiful clean little city, and am always angered by the needless trash littered about by drunken stragglers leaving the clubs