The Surrey ill mannered masses

Before I go any further, I have a correction to make. Of course I could just edit yesterday’s post and no one would be the wiser (given my general stats of no visitors and no views) but where’s the fun in that?

Yesterday I included a photo of three people. I said it was a dad and his kids, which was true. Except it was his two daughters rather than daughter and son as I said. And they weren’t shepherds. They were, it seems, the three wise men (or kings) on their way to see Jesus.

I still didn’t hear them though.

Now today…

This morning started in the kitchen. I’m going to town tonight so I was preparing food for my poorly wife. I stuffed a couple of chicken breasts and whipped up some magic soup for her. Hopefully it will go some way to healing her before Florence.

I then boarded a taxi for the Talking Newspaper studio. This was a very rare luxury brought about by a presenter accidentally collecting the Alton papers for me. A bit of a bonus given the rain.

My team was superb. It was all highly entertaining and I was on top form. If I do say so myself. Sometimes editions can drag on a bit but not this one. I hope the listeners enjoy it as much as we did.

It was then off to Farnham station for one of the few trains into London.

Of course I arrived just as one left so I had an hour to kill. I spent a fair bit of it chatting to the woman who made my coffee.

She’s Polish and didn’t understand why people are horrible to her. They say she’s taking too long, that their train is there, that she’s too slow, all the usual Surrey polite chitter chat that comes from commuting.

She said I was refreshing.

She then told me that her father was a forester and part of his job was to keep wild boar numbers down by shooting them. He would then take the body home and her mother would make the most delicious smoked boar sausage out of it. How totally yum.

She sounded like she missed home. I can’t say I blame her. Swapping Surrey bores for Polish boars has to be the way to go.