Early this morning, long before breakfast, I rose into the freezing air and headed once more towards the sorting office. The land was white with frost, the air clear, and the sun vainly tried to shine through the thin layer of cloud that covered the land. A similar one to mine was noted over a Scots golf course this morning. I passed a miserable postman scraping ice of his van windscreen (Van? In my day a bike was all we had!) and joined the well wrapped up folks in the queue awaiting mail the postman had failed to deliver.
The small queue moved slowly as the miserable old git struggled to operate the computer system, read the paperwork and remain alive while doing his job. As I waited I cuddled a female postman who passed by on her way to her van, she was one of the more intelligent women when I was employed here, now she is a mother of three wondering what the museum can do for the kids during half term. We discussed this while she held the door open allowing freezing air to enter the building thus allowing the others to offer dark stares from under their woollen headgear.
Eventually misery took my card and half heartedly listened to my description of the goods (large white card envelope for calender) he should search for. He disappeared into the building and I watched men in red shirts shove items large and small from one place to another. I knew the man in charge had a good idea what to do but I got the impression he was moving things they had just placed in their place to offer them the correct spot! Nothing new in 'the box' I thought. Misery trudged through with the large white card envelope as described and slowly and at the second attempt grumpily flashed the hand held computer over it and passed it to me without a smile.
Clearly, as I thought, the goods were there when I was telling the girl the other day they were there and some grumpy dope had not put it on the system.
Twice I have taken my sore knees down there without complaining to collect this and what do I now have sitting here on my desk? A 'Broons' Calendar! The 'Broons' are a Scots cartoon family that live in a tenement building somewhere in industrial Scotland. Originating in 1936 they were intended to be generic of a typical Scots family of the time and their adventures are still recorded in the 'Sunday Post' week by week and remain a children's favourite. 'The Sunday Post' once sold so many 'family' papers that it was thought 80% of Scots read the paper. The writing style was often called 'old womanish' in its approach though often what is written is far from that these days. I myself ceased reading it forty years ago and seeing it now it changeth not. However it will decorate this room for the next year allowing me to forget to add birthdays, events etc as I ought....
Sunday is my first day of the week yet the diary and all calendars today all begin on Monday! This is annoying and puts me off. Last week I missed my sisters birthday (she has had plenty of them) because it was on the Monday and I did not turn the page soon enough to realise. This annoyed me because it saved me money and you know how much I hate that! I love to give money away to others and i failed to do so this time.
Not that she has money worries, for some time both she and her husband were both buying failing Lottery tickets and winning nothing, she stopped buying and placed the money that would have gone on tickets on the mantelpiece. One year later he had won around £10 and she had a hundred sitting there gloating, as indeed was she. This is however somewhat annoying again as I was relying on her winning several million pounds and then passing some on to me, this is now unlikely to happen as he will waste his millions on his daughters alone, selfish man!
Folks who gamble are funny. One man I knew spent each day in the bookies placing small bets (he said) and every so often winning a few pounds. In his mind he was breaking even over the year but you and I know he was losing hand over fist. Betting companies work online giving them reach to people worldwide who throw their money at them happily. This enables several such companies to spend their millions on more adverts for the mug, more advertising from sponsoring sports events, two alone do this in Scotland, and from such advertising bring in more cash than they can shake a stick at, if that's their idea of a good time.
The temptation to win big is very strong especially if you are in financial trouble. I went in for it a while back when unemployed and try as I might I got nowhere with the Lottery, no million pound cheque found its way to me. However I knew this was daft and trusting Jesus has never left me down so I returned to that and on the day, much later, when later I found I was paying out more than I was taking in Jesus provided. The taxman gave me a refund that arrived that day and both Gas & Electric told me to pay less than I was paying monthly! I could survive again. The thought that I could use vast amounts is always a temptation but I would probably make a mess of this, now having moved from Pauperism to Poverty I am quite happy.
The sun tempted me to cycle to church today. By the time i got there, five minutes later, I was puggled and looking for an ambulance. I got little sympathy from the congregation however and remarkably when I came home afterwards I raced up the road with little stress, bar the Audi I met when going round the roundabout, he was not slowing down, and as I climbed the stairs with no trouble I realised cycling short distances was indeed making me fitter. I will be back tomorrow and will follow the same route, without the Audi, and hopefully this will be beneficial also.
of course I canny stand up now I have been sitting watching football all day, I have siezed up!
