Some say I got a bad attitude

Here’s a little love (okay, then, a little hate) from Ugly Kid Joe with Everything About You.

Gotta love Whitfield Crane. I used to love this track. It reminds me very much of Saturday nights at Rockworld with all of my lovely friends when I was nineteen or so. He might have started the band as an ironic stab at glam metal and all the pretty boys, but Whitfield Crane grew up with some great bands who were much less generic. Still, this was very much a dancefloor filler put on late in the night. Gives me a bit of energy still on a wet Monday morning.

And yes, it is very wet this morning.

“Urgh” were my first words as I opened the door for the dogs and could hear the rain. I’ve quite had enough of it. Wet and miserable and muddy for most of last week, interspersed only with a couple of frosts and colder days. Tired of the grey. Still, as I left my dad’s last night at half six, there were little signs that the evenings are growing again. It’s a full month after the shortest day. Just about have the motivation now to power through to spring. Time to get the seeds out I think.

This weekend was rather surreal. The road outside my house is a busy, fast one. The speed limit in the village is 50km, but nobody pays any attention to it. It turns to 90km and bends about 200m past my house, and I live on a blind bend. It’s nerve-wracking to say the least. At night, it is quiet, but it is also a race-track for some – people who like to take the roads at 110km and go through the village at 90km. There are very rarely police out after dark and to be honest, there is neither the traffic nor the bad driving to warrant it.

In the early hours of Saturday morning, I was woken up by Ralf barking. He doesn’t bark often. It was a baritone woof-woof and then quiet. It woke the others up though and it took a while to settle again. I couldn’t hear anything, so I just thought something must have spooked him. Five minutes later, he barked again.

I lay in bed a little while, wondering if I was being robbed, or if someone was stealing my car. A light flickered outside the window and I thought it was maybe later than I thought and the streetlights were coming back on again – they go off from 11pm – 6am. Then I thought it was a tractor – they have orange warning lights and there are a surprising number who work in the wee hours. By then I was properly alert and decided to go and see.

When I opened my shutters, there were fire engines and ambulances outside – a portable street light – the road was cordoned off from my house downwards and it was clear something had happened.

I went outside in my pyjamas and a long coat, looking like a black (and dishevelled) ghost, wandering among the wreckage. One car was on the wrong side of the road, a fire extinguisher just in front of it. Another car was on its roof, its front buried in a hedge. I didn’t see any further, as a medical team were trying to lift an inert body. At first, I thought the guy must have died – it was utterly silent and he was face down. Now I think there were too many people trying to lift him for him to be dead and they were more than likely transporting him carefully to ensure his neck was okay. I went back inside, realising there was nothing I could do, and went back to bed.

The next morning, every single piece of debris, bar one or two smashed tail-lights and a couple of incongruous bank slips, had been removed. There were two sets of tyre tracks going into the bushes on either side of the road, and some damage to the hedges. Nothing will stop a car like a good hedge. But that was it. You could quite easily have driven past and not realised anything had happened. Nobody seems to know exactly what happened or how many cars were involved. I suspect three, but that is a lot of cars together for that time of night. It’s on a straight bit of the road, so it’s not as if it was speed and over-correction. I still don’t know if the guy they were lifting survived or not – there is nothing in the local papers and even my friend didn’t know – she’s a gendarme in the local police.

Luckily from my perspective – and theirs maybe – they were not ten metres further up. Here, the hedge is less dense and there is a metre drop from the road to my garden or the field opposite. It would have been much more complicated.

Thank heavens for small mercies.

Anyway, this gloomy accident is no way to start a Monday. Here’s the things that are bringing me love this week…

♥ The birthdays of several of my favourite people… Madame Anne who is sadly 1000 miles from me celebrating a big birthday. Hopefully I’ll get to see her later in the year. My dad’s birthday is tomorrow. My sister’s birthday is Wednesday. It is a big birthday month.

♥ Sunday morning coffee and cake with two of my lovely friends who share many great loves with me, not least dogs, knitting, art, gardening, coffee and cake. Friends definitely reinvigorate the spirit.

♥ Saturday night dinners with Sarah. They nourish both stomach and soul. I hate that so many of my friends are such great cooks.

♥  Wood deliveries and warm fires.

♥ Early morning sleepy dogs who have a bit of breakfast and go back to bed. Ralf has learned to come when called on walks in the last week. He runs like a 50kg puppy – filled with excitement at having learned something, unable to stop himself ploughing into me with a great big grin on his face.

Not loving the Sunday afternoon hunting that was going on here yesterday. I gave a nod to my hunter friend who was down at the bottom of the hill with his little pointer, but there was the cross old man in the tree line who is never pleased to see me. I don’t care. He’s out there three or four times a year. I am there every day. I’ll tell him for nothing at all that he was looking in the wrong place. If Heston can’t find anything in those trees, there’s nothing to find. My friend and his pointer were right in the rabbit field. I had to walk all four on leads for most of the walk and that makes me very grumpy indeed. Not that they don’t walk well on the lead, but that they don’t get to stretch their legs.

Anyway, may Ugly Kid Joe bring you a little bit of fun this Monday morning. Have a good one!

4 thoughts on “Some say I got a bad attitude

  1. wood deliveries? you buy wood? i’ve heated with wood, always got it for free. would cut down trees after storms. natural gas here is half the price of liquid petroleum(lp) and oil(diesel fuel). electricity and coal is above lp. wood is well wood. all over the place with quality and price.

    ice cream raz

    1. I buy wood by the cubic metre – it’s about 50$ for a cubic metre of oak cut to 50cm logs and split, so cheaper than the manpower I’d use to chop it myself. It’s cut just right as well. Oil is really expensive as is electricity. I generally go through about 8 cubic metres of wood a year – nothing from March-October, then the fire is lit every day after that. Gas we get in bottles – very few places with mains gas beyond the cities. You can buy big storage tanks, but it’s as expensive as oil and electricity.

      1. our bottle gas is lp, but natural is starting to show. they sell face cords here. they are about 2/3 of your sq meter. $65. us. that’s dumped in your yard. if you want it wheelbarrowed out back somewhere, well that’s extra, as it should be. with wood it’s always give or take. when work was short i would cut wood. most of the time it was a “crime of convenience”. i would be driving by, just stop and ask.

        i hit the mother lode when i found out that the weekend cutters would go to the pub, instead of cutting wood. i would throw a short load of crap wood on my truck and demand retail. you can buy a lot of beer, a lot. like a weeks.

        we have natural gas(city gas) now. you are professional, i don’t how you could rationalize cutting wood. you have different rules. here pickup truck, chain saw, extra chains, 2 5 gal buckets of tools. insurance of my work van would pay for your wood. the guy in the pub had trucks that cost more than my house. their saws cost more than my truck. we used to laugh at the amount of money spent to cut their utility bill. it’s a grubby job that doesn’t pay very well. BUT it is honest work. if i needed to i would cut again.

        ice cream raz

      2. It definitely is honest work. Lots of people here have a Sunday job cutting wood from a family plot
        Nobody gets rich doing it though 😉

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