Well that is debatable.
A seven hour car journey can be a trial for even the most patient. For an eleven-year-old it should have been purgatory. But no, it was the opposite. She sneakily took my camera and started taking artistic shots of whatever she found.
It was only several days later that I found these shots on the memory card. They made me smile. I admired the simplicity and inventiveness of how to amuse yourself in dull circumstances.
Grief is a strange thing. It leaves you poleaxes. Paralysed and wallowing in the slough of self-pity.This goes on for quite some time and life tends to drag. I did some unusual things I've not done before. I started watching Coronation Street, I stayed up late watching the late night poker games or roulette tables. I developed a craving for hummus and drank copious quantities of rose.
Then my daughter snapped me out of my lethargy. So here I am back again. In a different and temporary form. There is no bus driving. possibly not until September, due to the somewhat overwhelming duties we have to perform. But that doesn't stop me writing about the things which happen around me. So I will continue to post some gleanings. Bus-less missives, but nonetheless with the same sense of the bizarre things I see in life.
Expect the best, prepare for the worst. Either way it's good to be back.