Every Dog Has His Day

Back to reality with a bump.

Back to the cold winds. The temperature had halved. The mist had descended. Yes, you've guessed it, I'm back in the Northern hills of England. My bias towards Scotland will be misplaced as it will most likely bee cooler and wetter up there.

'Count your blessings,' a local said to me irritatingly. I know where you can shove your blessings, I thought un-christianly. This was the same person who had said, a couple of days ago, that it was too hot and hadn't liked it when I begged to differ.

I am a fish out of water. having spent too long in hot climates and warm places, developed a liking for hot food - the more chilis the better. The Northern English hills are the complete opposite. The people who live there in the main, adore the winds and the coolness. They loathe the heat. And they like simple, plain food.

Grumpy bus driver syndrome was fast descending. There was no excuse for it as it was the last days of the holidays. I was not due to drive any bus. But everything seemed to be wrong. The cold weather ... grrr, the armie of purple lycra clad cyclists ... grrr, the enforced avoidance of the local town because it was hosting the tackiest of fairs ... grrr, so much to do - so little time ... grrr, the Tote was sold to a bookmaker ... grrr, the postman delivered the wrong letters appeared through the door ... grrr, my big toe hurts ... grrr ...and on...grrr ...and ...grrr

I took the dog for a walk and thought it could be worse.

And it was.

On the way back a mini-bus came round the corner on the wrong side of the road and I had to manoeuvre the car into the ditch. I had just enough time to spot the company logo - a local company, and clock the driver - someone I had met before, before feeling the car bounce on the unearthed drains. My head hit the roof of the car.

Grrr ... and double Grrr ...

I looked to the side of the road and there was a man, leaning on his shovel, looking at me. he had stopped digging and was roaring with laughter. I looked at him blankly. Then I began to laugh. My dog jumped up and licked me on the nose. I disregarded the fact that he had just licked the insides of a dead rabbit which had been lying on the path, and I hugged him.

Every dog has his day.