Talk

I have nothing to say, but people say that does not normally stop you saying it!

This I fail to comprehend.

Trying to think of something to say when in strangers company can be difficult.  I am not good at small talk, I come from Edinburgh, we only talk big.  Some friends I have known were brilliant at small talk, they could talk to anybody about anything without causing embarrassment or warfare, this I find difficult.  

It is one thing in Tesco to irritate the young lass by small talk there, it does not go deep, and in the museum in times past I could easily I found, deal with people arriving especially kids.  However, in more serious situations I flounder.  Not that I have been in any serious situation for some time, nor do I wish to be in one.  I am happy hiding away unless I wish fresh air.  

Women I say, can talk easily.  My mum could not go anywhere without finding someone to gossip with.  This was not chattering re the great moments of life, just chattering, and she, and I note many other women, could do this easily.  Not talking appeared to be a sin!  Just imagine what it was like with three women in our house!  How the neighbours coped I know not. 

Politicians talk is of course another thing.  Until recently a politician would never lie, they just did not speak the truth.  Any question put to them would get half an answer, the half they wanted to promote.  No lie passed their lips, but neither did they accept or speak the truth.  Today, since Boris Johnson, lying bare-faced to the questioner has become the norm.  Refusing a straight answer, basic lying and avoiding giving an answer is now Tory policy.  Even the Speaker of the House has joined in.

Children can lie, they also know when an adult lies.  Kids have a straight forward appreciation of 'right and wrong' you cannot fool them.  Maybe we should use them in speaking to MPs?

But as for me I have little to say at any time.  In fact, I often sit here and don't even talk to myself.  

There are many who wish to do this also.  Even scammers do not speak to me.  One called to day but when I answered the line went dead.  It was an 02039 number, used by scammers claiming to be the HMRC and calling about a tax bill.  Click No 1 to reply it would say.  However, I did not get that far and so have avoided yet more red tape, though this time fake tape, and someone somewhere in Pakistan will be sad about this.  Pity, I had something to say to him...

Monday Meeting

Monday saw me hobble down to the museum for one of our quarterly meetings.  I would much rather have stayed in bed.  I am so weary for some reason, overwork is not responsible, and coffee does not work.
It was not going to be a happy day, the door was locked, no-one was answering.  This meant enter by the back door at the far end of the building, this too was locked.  Thus I went moodily the long way round through the cafe and entered the premises.  Here I dumped my ragged coat, claiming a decent seat at the front so I could hear what was being said this time around, and walked back the whole length of the building to get myself a Poppy from our collection box, we always have one and I want to use ours to help the profits.  
Returning the long way back, worn out and unloved but without complaining I graciously took my seat beside a new woman of whom I now little.  Gossip continued, I had not been noticed, and then we began what I suspected would be a long meeting.  If the big boss is there he takes an hour to answer a question, speaking in those well trained 'council' type statements which mean a great deal but actually say nothing.  There were also suspects who I could see liked to talk and discuss things that need no words but get them anyway.

Someone must have been reading one of those management books that have ruined many an office with fancy practices and we were split into small groups, even though there were only 10 of us lackeys present, and told to offer suggestions on ways to improve things.  I offered cut out this sort of thing when I am brain dead, but this was rejected on a technicality as apparently that was not unusual.  So suggestions were written down and offered to the leadership who swallowed hard and made a note of each one while we watched even the good ideas disappear into the litter bin. 
Suggestions made we then were informed of the museums comments made re the new building soon to be erected opposite the museum.  (This is one of the top council man's desperate idea to waste money and build an unsuitable building in that spot for reasons unknown.  This has been going on for over 20 years.)  This led to comments from one gentleman among us who has a bee in his bonnet re this building, not me, and we then had a stand of between council educated boss and slow speaking and always questioning without listening opponent.  I watched the clock and considered what to eat later.
Some time later we were informed of the next daft exhibition which I consider a waste but she who must be obeyed considers will bring in the crowds.  Indeed crowds of art types with their middle class art love and little comprehension of real life.  Not that I am one to complain as we could do a small exhibition for the armistice but she 'had not the time.'  A mistake I feel.  Two talks and a blog by me is not enough I consider.
The future plans were mentioned and I was ridiculed as the kids exhibition next year is appropriate for me but unfortunately as the acoustics are bad I have no idea what the exhibition is about or what they were laughing and pointing at me about.  I may not sleep tonight.

As the meeting slowly ground to a close, all hoping he in the corner would not interject again, I noticed the time.  It was also noticed that the clock had not been turned back as it ought and we were not an hour overdue as I thought but on time, just in time to get out before it gets dark!
The boss revealed his management efficiency by taking the large clock down and checking the time carefully turned the hands to 25 minutes past the hour.  Sadly he had turned the hands the wrong way and put it forward an hour showing us why his two girls grumble about him at home!
I then limped off through the town enjoying the bright sun and freezing wind, almost wandering into Tesco out of habit, and gratefully made it home to my warmish nest.  Tomorrow I am off out again to the museum for the weekly duty, then going back later for a get together to celebrate 25 to the day that the museum opened.  Red wine, cake and most of us scrubbed up a wee bit and maybe a few old faces returning, not that we lack 'old faces' already of course.  

Nothing planned after that.

Thursday

I have nothing to say, so here is a picture of people listening to me talk.