"Going Downhill Fast" - Divine Comedy, 1994

Some time in my past, somebody gave me a greeting card that said: "Things are getting worse. Please send chocolate." I think it's time to get the chocolate out...even though it isn't even 9am yet!

Today started out just fine. England's "football" team beat the Russians 3-0 in last night's game at Wembley (and Scotland beat France, in Paris, 1-0!), so I still had a nice buzz from the results of last night's games when I woke up this morning.

I left the house for Oxford a little later than normal. The drive to Kidlington (just north of the Oxford park & ride lot I use) was just beautiful. It's a cool, crisp morning. The sun had just risen. There were patches of fog along the Oxford Canal and over farmland in the valleys.

Then the traffic quit moving, before I could even get through Kidlington. I was on and off the clutch, just inching along. Rather than making the 7:45 shuttle bus from the park & ride, I literally jumped onto the 8:00 bus as it was pulling away from the waiting area. I hate running for a bus, but it would have been a 15-minute wait for the next one.

Throwing myself into a seat on the bus, I pulled my "mobile" (cell phone, to my American readers) out of my bag, only to discover that for the past 2 minutes or so it had been having a conversation with our phone at home. Argh. "Sorry", I wrote to John via text, as he was the recipient of the errant call. And I also wrote something about how this had the makings of the start of a bad day.

John sent me a text back in return telling me that, no, it would going to be a good day for me. Bless him! Sometimes he and I switch places these days; John becomes the optimist, and I'm the one who thinks the sky is falling.

So I got off the bus in the middle of Oxford and decided to stop at the little Sainsbury's Local near the bus stop. I thought I'd just pick up something for lunch, a few of their nice freshly-baked bagels (some of the best bagels I've found in the UK), and some chocolate for my desk drawer at the office. The lady at the "till" (cash register to you in the States) had a big smile on her face. She was about my age, I guess...maybe a little younger. She had a lovely Scottish accent. And we started chatting about how nice the weather was while she rang up my items.

And then it happened. She mentioned her family, and she asked me if I have any grandchildren. She has 8 of them.

Oh, Good Lord. On the 13th of September 2007, I was asked for the very first time whether or not I have any grandchildren.

Of course I could, age-wise. But that's not the point, is it?

Oh well. It could be worse. I understand that it's the first day of Ramadan. If I was a believer in the Islamic faith, I'd have to fast all day today. Which means that I couldn't have the chocolate that I'm about to unwrap...


Janet