Busy, Busy, Busy.

I apologise for the rather sporadic posting of late, I have been caught up in a whirlwind of training, house hunting, training, dogs & vets, more training, oh and some work. By the time I have actually managed to sit down of an evening my brain has been so addled that the only thoughts worth acting on have been those of my lovely cosy bed.

However I have been giving my next little cultural experiment, by the way thank you for the suggestions, some thought. I will be reporting back on that in the not too distant future.

Ooh.K.!

I've just been looking at the weird things people put into searchs. The following are the top searchs that have found my humble little place!!! Should I be worried?

1. Bury St Jude in Back Yard - Baltimore (any advice from my friends across the pond?)
2. Wife Swapping in England - New Delhi (Slightly worrying,)
3. Man eats pooh - Manchester (They are from the wrong side of the Pennines!)
4. Boobs Experiments - Czech Republic (Say no more.)

Talking of experiments, I think it is time for another little cultural experiment, if you don't know what on earth I'm talking about check this out.

Any suggestions??

Suggestions:

Widescreenboy - Go into a large sports shop and ask, (in an American accent), for a 'fanny pack'.

Nikki -HA! I've got one. It does however, entail another trip to the butcher.Instead of asking for rump roast, ask for a lump of cow butt.

Kate - You could go up to one of those scarey women on a department store beauty counter and ask whose toilet the toilet water comes from.

One Ear - Ask your local crack dealer for an ounce of "happiness." hmm, thanks for that one, let me think about it...

I Like Riding in my Car.

Today I decided to go to work on the bus. The sun was shining and it was a lovely hazy morning, so I thought it would be the ideal day to try out the local bus service. So I set off early just to make sure that I had plenty of time, I wasn't sure of the bus times. Actually I wasn't sure of the numbers or in fact the route!

There is a bus stop a short walk from where we are living, so a couple of minutes later I was standing at the stop. Hmm, it was 8.45am and I was alone at the bus stop, that was the first clue. Children were on their way to the local high school and as one group of teenage girls passed me there were a couple of remarks made behind the safety of their hands to each other, then sniggers as they looked in my direction. Clue number two. After checking that my skirt wasn't tucked into the back of my knickers and that nothing else was 'hanging' out that shouldn't be, I realised that they knew something I didn't!

Fifteen minutes later and I was still at the bus stop, still alone at the bus stop. Then a lady walking her dog approached me.

"Excuse me dear," she said shyly, "but are you waiting for the bus?"

Yes, I did resist the temptation to point to the huge bus stop sign and shelter and utter Duh!!

"Erm yes, but I've been here a while and I'm not sure about how regular they run," I replied politely.

"Oh they are regular dear,"

"Great, how often do they run then?"

"Three times," she replied confidently.

"Three times an hour, oh good that means there must be one due, I must have just missed the last one,"

Her face dropped. "Actually dear it's three times a day, 8.30, 12.30 and 3.30. But they are as regular as clockwork!" With that she obviously noticed the dark look on my face and decided to cut and run.

There I stood hands in the air, "but, but, butting" like a demented lawnmower. This is one of the biggest cities in the country. They are constantly wittering that people should make use of public transport in order to prevent congestion and environmental damage. I have just moved from a small village in Kent, there we had four buses a day. I am absolutely gobsmacked.

As it turns out, if I walk three quarters of a mile up the road there are buses every fifteen minutes into the city. So that's what I did. What the driver didn't tell me, when I asked for a ticket to the nearest stop to the station was that the nearest stop to the station is a mile away. So on my way to work this morning I managed to do a small workout by walking one and three quarter miles.

I got a taxi home, yes call me a wus, but I didn't fancy the idea of another mini hike. Oh ok I'll be honest, it's been gloriously sunny today and I just didn't fancy being trapped on a hot bus with a load of 'sweaty bettys'. For the foreseeable future I shall drive to work, pay the exorbitant parking fees and sit in the jams. I shall however be reclined in a comfy leather seat, singing along to the radio in air conditioned comfort.

Forget the lectures on the environment, I recycle everything I possibly can, I even have a wormary in my kitchen, I use energy saving bulbs, I use water from the washing up etc to water my plants and I collect rain water in a water butt, (this was essential in Kent as they've had less rain than the Kalahari dessert last year). But until buses run regularly without the need for a hike, with air conditioning and dare I mention deodorant dispensers for those who either forgot theirs or can't afford it, I shall continue to rebel and use my car.

OW!

There I was minding my own business sitting in the morning sunshine enjoying a nice cup of tea, when zap, some thug of a wasp decided to attack me. The nasty little blighter went and stung me without any provocation.

I've been stung before and ok it hurt for a while but no real damage. This time however the offender must have been on steroids or something. It took most of yesterday for the swelling to subside and it is still painful this morning. That, I could have taken in my stride had it not been for the constant shivering and palpitations it kept causing throughout the day. Maybe next time I'll just enjoy the sunshine from the kitchen window.

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Our Trumpeter this week is Kate. Take a trip over to her place to read her wonderful review of Spielbergs' War of the Worlds.

If you would like to read previous reviews then head on over here.