On being offered a seat by a woman

I spent last night at the flat. There are a few, long term, things that need to be done such as painting and laying a wooden floor so I arranged to meet a guy there first thing this morning to get a quote and discuss possibilities. Also the curtain in the lounge has decided to destroy itself. This will need replacement.

Big jobs aside, possibly most important was changing the batteries in the thermostat which has died. While this isn’t normally a problem, given the drop in temperature it’s quite nice to have the central heating on. And it doesn’t work without the thermostat.

A clock needed its battery changing as well. In true Mirinda fashion, she had to buy a clock which is designed to make power replacement difficult.

Still, both were changed and now work perfectly.

In the meanwhilst, I met Tomasz first thing and he quoted a figure and we planned a time for his team to transform the flat into something a little less tired and careworn. To be honest, I’ll be very happy when the floors are wooden. I’ve really gone off carpet. For one thing it’s quite a disgusting concept when you think of how much skin we shed every day but also the nylon fibres cause electric shocks whenever I vac.

All of that will be a thing of the past come the new year as Team Tomasz work their little hearts out to make matters better.

Obviously I also did some housework before heading home.

As I walked towards the tube, I noticed that now that Maine Towers appears to be almost complete, the block that used to be a car yard along Marsh Wall is now undergoing a bit of construction. It’s all happening behind this hoarding.

I can only imagine it will be yet more towering blocks of flats. Not that I’m complaining. One less outlet for cars is always going to be preferable to just about anything.

Speaking of construction, I noticed another building that appears to be complete. I know I haven’t been up for a while but this feels awfully quick. I took this same photo not that long ago and the cranes were still sprouting from the top of this block like so much spikey hair. Now look at it. Clean shaven and sparkling.

Unusually there was a heaving crowd at Canary Wharf. I don’t mean the heaving was unusual. More the fact that there was such a large crowd before midday. I looked at the indicator board thinking I would just get the next train but was astounded to find that the following train would be in six minutes. I decided to squeeze in with the heaving multitude.

The train pulled in and the crowds coalesced into a single stream vying to reach the open spaces within the carriage. There weren’t many because the train already had a fair sprinkling of passengers. No-one took a blind bit of notice of my walking stick. Except for a woman who kindly offered me her seat.

I happily declined. There were two reasons why I declined. Firstly, it’s easier for me to get to the doors at Waterloo on a crowded train if I’m standing in the vestibule and, secondly, she was heavily pregnant. As I assured her that I was fine, I looked around at the other, seemingly able bodied people sitting and staring blankly at screens, books, mirrors or just into null space. “Wankers,” I thought as the train headed under the river a number of times.

I managed to miss the next train home (as usual) but didn’t have long to wait. In direct contrast to the tube train, there were about five people on my train home. Apart from the young fellow sitting in my carriage with deafening earplugs and a snorting habit which smacked of sustained cocaine abuse, it was a very quiet and pleasant trip home. (Actually, Mr McSnorter left the train at Surbiton so he only managed to ruin a bit of the trip.)

One of the best bits about coming home is the park. Walking home through autumn leaves is always a delight, especially after a night and a morning in the City.