Chill Out Time

Have loved the cold weather, so much so I went on ‘STV The Hour’ show and declared my love of the snow, it was funny- to me.

I did have a blocked up nose during the broadcast and was sweating slightly. The snow has been a double edged sword in my household.
On the one hand, we are all getting cabin fever, on the other we are all talking more and huddling together.
Ashley and I are writing together, I have to sit in her room as we do it and I get all distracted by staring at her book collection (why does she have Dirk Bogarde’s biography?), the bundles of clothes (are they clean or needing ironed?), why is there make up bottles mixed with bank statements and a basil Panini? (Should I sort them out?) Things come into my head and she shouts “Mum, stop looking at my stuff and bloody focus on what we are writing, we have a deadline!”

I am easily distracted. So after all this week of writing, learning a new programme on the laptop and dealing with a lump that I haven’t yet let the doctor look at, I headed up to Bingham Pond on the Great Western Rd and joined in with a skating/curling event. It was very unorganised yet totally organised at the same time- nothing to do with the council, this was community spirit at work- a bloke had gotten heaps of skates for people to have free, a lovely woman had brought hot food and the kids brought their enthusiasm!

The Bingham Pond was totally frozen over, expect for one big hole cut into the side where the ducks and birds sat sullenly around a chilly patch of freezing water.

They didn’t look happy, I have never seen so many emotional, sad angry ducks- they did look totally disenfranchised. They stared at me, sniffed and waddled off in a stumpy huff. This was there pond, why on earth why we walking on their water? What were we Jesus?

I met loads of nice people, drank heaps of hot tea, ate home made brownies, and did a bit of slipping about, perfect Sunday.

I have been keeping constant contact with my dad, despite his age he is determined to get out into the slippy ice and snow and damage himself.
“Dad, please stay in, we will come up with food” I said.

“Och, I will be fine, am just off to get myself a newspaper” he quipped.
Meanwhile I got an ear infection; it made my ear pulsate with pain. I called the NHS helpline and they directed me to the out or hours clinic, they faxed them to let them know I was coming.
The clinic was at The Western Infirmary, with pulsating itchy painful ear I hobbled in.
Husband dropped me off to go park his car, I was sitting there reading a book and trying to imagine having sex with George Michael (I do this when I am in pain- it takes a lot of concentration) when I noticed a fat young bloke snarling and muttering at his skinny young girl friend.
“They cunts should have listened to you Shania, I am gonna punch that fucking nurse, she is a cow” I could hear him despite my ear being half blocked.
Great- all I need is a fat dick in a bad mood as my ear threatened to explode, where was husband?

There was a nice Asian looking bloke opposite me, we both made eye contact and raised our brows at each other. Then the nurse called for the Asian bloke- fat acrylic clad fuck wit shouts “How come that paki cunt got took?”

This made me glare at him, the yellow NHS room felt menacing, and the skinny girlfriend looked at me with pleading sorry eyes. Fat man huffed louder and answered his loud mobile phone whose ringtone was ‘Rule Britannia’ I was amazed he liked orchestral music.
“Turn your phone off; it says so on the sign” the girlfriend spoke mouse like but adamant.

“I am dyslexic and cannae read” he sniggered. I didn’t doubt it, but I suspect it was illiteracy not even sarcasm.

Then the nurse called my name, just as I was getting up he snarled “Why is she being taken?”

At this I snapped my head round and said “I had an appointment faxed in by my doctor, did you? Shut up, you might be able to bully her but not me ok fatty boom boom?”

He just stared open mouthed and put his head down. I was only getting seen by the nurse before I go to the doctor. I was out in seconds and husband was now on the chairs waiting on me, he didn’t know husband was with me and was complaining about how some woman and a paki got it before them. I sat beside husband and glared at fatty boom boom.
Husband ignored all the words coming out of fatty’s mouth- he doesn’t like strangers talking to him, far less racist annoying ones.
Just then a skinny blonde girl and her young spiky haired boyfriend came in- she was painfully thin and vomiting into a grey hospital sick bucket.
“Fucksake Tam, I feel ill” she bleated.

The fat arse immediately recognised what he thought was his own kind and started telling them how his girlfriend was waiting ages “I am gonna punch some cunt soon” he spoke gruffly. I stared at him.

He looked away; husband laughed loudly and stared at the wall. The room felt menacing, the spiky young haired guy looked at husband and immediately smiled and stroked his blonde sick girlfriends back- he was not alleging himself to fatty.

Then fatty’s girlfriend was called in by the nurse and as soon as she went off fatty said “her period is two weeks late fucksake and she is bleeding clots fucksake and it might be a miscarriage and these cunts aren’t taking her seriously fucksake”

Husband laughed loud again and stared at the wall and the said “Yuk” out loud at the ‘clots’ comment. The spiky boy and sick girl stared at us, the sick girl smiled at me.
“You ok?” I offered some friendship at her.

“I am just pregnant 3 weeks and I can’t stop being sick” she muttered.
I told her I had that when I was pregnant and offered her sympathy she, I and her spiky haired boyfriend all chatted about sickness in pregnancy.

Fatty was left in the cold. Just then his girlfriend came out and he shouted “What happened?”
She was whispering and didn’t want to share with the group and they both left in a hurry.
“Maybe she will get away from him?” I ventured and the sick blonde girl laughed and said “I hope so” we all sat in silence until my name was called. The upshot is- I got anti biotic ear drops and need to keep using them. I was glad to get out of that place. The ears are better and am hoping the thumping infection clears up for London next week.

So Ashley and I are currently learning Burns’ poems as we are doing a wee turn at The Groucho club for Burn’s night next Saturday. Ashley is really good at it, I seem to stumble over the old Scots dialect and can’t quite get my head around it, those odd Gaelic-type words flow from her wee lips…me? Its like flip flops falling out of my mouth…I need to practice more.

Both of us are hoping that the snow clears up so we can fly to London when needs be!