Advice & Direction
Now that was a pleasant lunchtime. Lounging on a bench in Town Gardens, the shrill cacophony from the nearby junior school, the bird calls, even the plaintive requests from dog owners to their stubborn pets to stop sniffing at every excuse, did nothing to stop me dropping off to sleep.
I woke with a start. Whether I'd startled the grey squirrel or whether it had startled me, I'm not sure, but away it went, tame or not. Behind me some guy and his companion strolled lazily down the steps and as they passed one said to the other "He's not going to find a job laying there, is he?"
For crying out loud! Am I forbidden from enjoying a lunchbreak? Apparently that might be the case, as a workman started his litter blower and made sure I wouldn't be able to get any peace and quiet. Do these people imagine jobs appear out of thin air? Or that employers grin and shake hands with me simply because I get up from a park bench? I don't suppose any of my critics might actually be willing to assist my job search? Seems to me some people need to something better to occupy their time.
Writing On The Wall
On the way home I passed a church in Old Town. It's a modest place of worship dating back to the days when Old Town was all Swindon was. But times change, and even Christianity has to change with them. These days it places some incredible advertisments on the wall outside.
God gives better direction than sat-nav. Well that's optimism for you. The temptation to pop in and ask for directions to Droitwich was enormous. The thought that a deep basso voice might issue from a bright golden glow in the clouds telling me to turn left at the lights strikes me as a little ridiculous. Yes, I know some people claim to hear messages from the almighty, but aren't they the people we point fingers and laugh at? In any case, I saw a program the other night that demonstrated a part of the brain that supplies us with religious experiences. If I want to go to Droitwich, I might be better served purchasing a sat-nav.
Come to think of, isn't this advert a little dodgy? I seem to remember something about telling lies not being a good thing.
Thou Shalt Not Bag Apples Falsely
I've always been an apple a day man. Not because I was obliged to as a youngster, but simply out of choice. As it happens I do genuinely believe an apple a day keeps the doctor away. Being somewhat fussy about the apples I eat, I prefer Braeburns. At my local supermarket, only Pink Lady's are more expensive (and even better tasting unfortunately).
Yesterday I took a bite of my apple and immediately knew it was not Braeburn material. Cheap, slightly tasteless, and leaving a persistent sourness in the mouth. Nope, not good at all. So what's going on? Either some wierdo crept into my flat and exchanged my beloved braeburns for cheap rubbish, or they were never properly packaged in the first place.
The supermarket exchanged them without fuss or bother, and I can only praise their willingness to please. I hope the apple supplier is equally contientous.
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