This week the Friday story blog has appeared on a Saturday for the first time.

This is not by design and I hope that normal service will be resumed in the future. The combination of arriving home late at night and having to leave early in the morning is limiting my opportunity to update the blog on the right day.

Next week is likely to be a dormant Friday as I will be in Poland again for the second week running and therefore will not see my house to experience any stories, so apologies in advance. 

Even The Cats Were Stumped By The Beast From The East

It appears that we are about to be visited by a relative. This relative is a distant cousin of the “Beast From The East” that I wrote about in my last post. After a couple of beautiful days of sunshine where the freshness of the air was as delicious as any health drink, the cold is coming back.

Driving to work as the sun rises and the world wakes up, is particularly nice at this time of year. Without the leaves on the trees the sun reaches across the landscape and illuminates every corner of the earth. Almost as if someone has turned on a giant spotlight. The clarity of the light is excellent.

As someone who suffers from diabetes and in particular a lack of clear vision brought on by it, the clear light really helps. It is amazing how good illumination makes things look very clear. Suddenly you can see just how dusty your car is and the stale crumbs that have gathered in various nooks from the snatched breakfasts eaten on the move.

Back to the mini-beast, it seems that we are about to be touched by another cold snap. This will land about 5pm tonight and stretch into tomorrow, finally warming up early next week. More like a hair from the beast from the east than a full relative.

Last time I wrote this blog I was holed up in Glasgow.

As you will have gathered I did manage to get home eventually. It took three days for me to escape Glasgow. It now sends a shiver down my spine each time I fly somewhere, half expecting to land in another place.

The adventure continued on the journey home.

Firstly, I had to find transport out of the city. Even after 3 days the flights and railways were still frozen. The problem was the South Uplands, or the area between Glasgow and England. I have to say, I didn’t know that these uplands existed until this visit. I had never been to Carlisle but it now felt strangely alluring.

With snow strewn across the landscape and no obvious thaw in sight, I felt a real urge to solve this problem in any way I could. I phoned the car hire companies and found that sensibly they didn’t trust anyone to drive a new car in snow. Deflated, I ventured downstairs to find some food. The receptionist was directing people who were wandering around aimlessly, disorientated by the weather.

She was explaining to someone where the Bus Station was. “Bus Station”, I thought. I had forgotten about National Express buses. “Surely they weren’t running?”. I looked on-line and sure enough they were operating, albeit on a reduced basis. But they were actually travelling to England. The next available bus out was a night bus, leaving at 10-45pm and going South.

At 10pm I was sitting at the station. The last time I used a National Express bus was at least 30 years ago. I can remember sitting on the top deck of the bus going to London. The convenience of using a car has meant that I have never even explored bus travel, except around a city. They even have different carriers and everything!

As the witching hour of 10-45 arrived, the bus drivers were debating whether they would actually travel. There were two human drivers for this trip. They didn’t seem very keen, but eventually they boarded the bus.

As we drove through the night I went to places I had never been. Each place had no traffic and no people, so it felt like an episode of 28 days later – where the whole country has been hit by a plague and almost everyone has died. 

The bus was supposed to be the Edinburgh to Plymouth Express. It started in Glasgow and as we drove, announcements were made about not going to Plymouth. Then it was not going past Bristol, and finally it was stopping at Birmingham.

As we approached Stoke, we were now told that Birmingham bus station was too hard to get to and therefore we would be going to Birmingham airport, which was more accessible.

Bizarrely, the coach driver clearly wasn’t used to driving to Birmingham airport, and got off the motorway on the west of Birmingham to go to the airport which is towards the east of the city. We drove through the city centre – which was completely snowed in, past the proper bus station and over to the airport. It was too snowy to go to the bus station and yet we passed within a road’s width of it.

Finally we arrived at Birmingham airport. People ebbed and flowed from every corner, hoping to escape the city and fly to distant parts.

The Hellebores Survive The Bad Weather

Walking through Birmingham airport I found that most flights were being cancelled and there was no transport out. “Would this be better than being stuck in Glasgow?”.

I pictured myself cuddling my laptop bag, sleeping on an airport seat in my suit and vowed to get out of there.

Over the tannoy, Easyjet were advising their customers that their flights were now cancelled and they would have to come downstairs for a refund. But before they could do that, “Please can you return your duty free purchases and get a refund by forming an orderly queue”.

A sense of heightened angst filled the throngs of people who had purchased themselves something to take away. Many people were unhappy, and this just added to the occasion.

Finally, I happened upon the car hire desks. Unbelievably they WERE letting people have hire cars. Tourists who had just landed were now being allowed to kill themselves in a brand new death trap. But this suited me.

Jumping at the chance I chanced my arm and asked whether I could hire something. Without a driving licence on me, one by one the hire car companies turned me away. I finally asked Avis what I could do.

“If you have ever hired before then I might be able to help you”.

I gave the desk clerk my details and amazingly I had hired before and was on their system. It was a few years ago, but it counted. I was now given the keys to a Kia and the opportunity to wrap myself around the nearest central reservation.

To cut a long story shorter – I made it.  Driving slowly and sliding around a bit, I got out of Birmingham, and took the car to Bristol airport which was equally snow bound. The roads weren’t too bad once you escaped the city.

The adventure was over.

I drove my own car back from the airport, exhausted, but replete with 3 pairs on new pants and 7 pairs of new socks for my trouble. It was a long way to go for some new underwear! 

In early January my better half decided that this year she would like to help protect our local toad population from the terror of road travel.

In March every year, the little creatures wake up from their winter slumber and head towards their favourite breeding ground. Imagine that, the first thought that the male toads have when they wake up is to have sex. Almost like the mother of all morning glories.

This happens every year, and our local toads have to cross a road to reach their favourite spot. Maybe it is the local terrain that contains some kind of aphrodisiac but they all head the same way.

Sadly, this is at odds with the local car population. Many toads are slaughtered as they cross the road and get run over.

This year would be different, my better half vowed. As the local head of toad patrol she would wait by the side of the road and as toads came to cross she would help them.

If you register with Frog Life they send you all kinds of stuff including signs to warn people of the likelihood of toads crossing.

She produced some flyers to get others to help. No one replied. I was roped in to increase the numbers – to two.

When March arrived, she popped up each day onto the road to see if the toads had awoken from their slumber and were on the march. Each day no sign. Was this really going to happen?

Toads In A Bucket

Last Friday, I actually arrived home in time for tea. Once we had finished, my better half exclaimed that she was going to go up the drive to see if there was any sign of toads. It was pouring with rain.

“Hats off to her”, I thought, “she is certainly determined”.

Feeling that I too should be doing my bit as the second volunteer in the group, I grabbed a torch and headed up too. The ground was moving. Toads had sprung from every hole and were marching down towards the road and beyond.

We grabbed buckets and filled them with slimy bodies, croaking and calling to each other.

The road was also a scene of some death and destruction. The cars has already met with some of them and the toads had not survived the experience.

We collected over a hundred within no time at all. We collected until the numbers reduced and there were no more arriving. Wet through we let them go near the local water holes.

The next day we were away and had no one to hand over the baton to. We hoped that it didn’t rain so they would stay put. It seems that wet weather is the main prerequisite for marching toads.

On Sunday, we went out again.

It wasn’t raining much but again we collected many more.

During the past week I have been away. But my better half has been out each day to look for them and help as necessary. She has even managed to rope in support from my mother.

Wandering around with a torch in the dark is not exactly the safest occupation, but she has felt mightily worthwhile in saving many toads from a sticky end.

If anyone is interested in saving their local population please see below.

http://www.froglife.org/what-we-do/toads-on-roads/

While saving the toads on friday, I experienced the worst of human kind.

We were wandering along the road, and as we came across toads we moved them aside. When cars approached I waved the my torch to attract their attention and try to slow them down.

Most people were intrigued and stopped to ask what was going on, slowing down and trying to avoid the poor creatures.

As I waved my torch at one car the driver stopped next to me and wound down his window. “Don’t **cking wave that torch in my face you **nt”, he said.

“Wow what a tw*t”, I responded, irritated by his attitude.

A space hopper on legs jumped out of the front of the car and rushed towards me.  He was joined from the back of the car by Mr Detritus, a tall colleague who clearly needed a good wash and groom, and was dying for a fight.

Half amazed that Mr space hopper was quite a round as he was, I stood transfixed while he started shouting at me and asking me to throw the first punch. I declined and with a little intervention from my better half, he eventually got back into his vehicle.

His wife / partner shouted at us from the car in support of her aggressive friend. Their daughter cried in the back seeing her dad being so aggressive.

“We are only trying to get you to slow down, so you don’t kills the toads”, I said.

“It’s a **cking national speed limit”, he said, “I can drive over the them if I want.”

He sped off through the toads.

It is a shame that some people are so completely selfish. Thoughts of car sabotage filled my mind while I wandered in the dark, to stop cars speeding through the toads. We carried on as if nothing had happened.

Thankfully everyone else was pleasant. No one stopped to help.

Someone Has Stolen My Teeth!

A couple of weeks ago I was in Glasgow and I needed to get a taxi to the airport. I looked around in the centre and there were none to be found. I waited for 10 minutes and still no sign. Eventually a taxi came along with his light off, so I turned away.

As he came closer he said, "Do you need a taxi to the airport?"

I turned back and said "Yes".

"Do you mind sharing with my wife?"

I looked into the back and there was a lady already sitting on the back seat. She smiled at me nicely and I thought, "I need a taxi but this wasn't quite what I had in mind". It was cold and I had waited a while so I thought, "Oh to hell with it".

"Ok", I said, and climbed into the back onto the seat with the lady. 

As we pulled away she said, "I'm glad you said yes, or he was going to dump me there in the cold". We chatted as we headed for the airport.

"If my wife is a pain I will let her out", the cab driver said.

"Nice to see that the love hasn't left this marriage", I thought.

My New Weekend Retreat

The obvious song for this week would be the frog chorus by Paul McCartney. But even on my most upbeat day I can’t bring myself to listen to that absolute tripe.

We drove back home last week and listened to the radio with Sounds of the Seventies. These two records were played.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RUcaCE6Q2tA

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yLarDhciHY0

Have a great weekend!

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