Feeling home

I am not quite sure why, but at the moment I am feeling very very English.  By that, I mean more so than usual.  Thinking about it, yesterday at least I really didn’t mingle with Americans – well except the kids.  I watched English tv and only had to venture out to buy milk and chocolate (in that order).  When I accidentally tackled the shop assistant’s hand I said a quick, ‘sorry’ and she repeated it almost in jest to sound English.  I wasn’t in the mood to talk about where I was from or whether she had visited / intended to visit ever….

Today I phoned two close UK friends and was yakking on the blower for over an hour…

We had been out with Americans  two nights this weekend..  As per usual, there is conversation about UK – not our instigation I may add.  It gets quite tiresome listening to friends’ holiday tales about when they were ‘in Dublin and then caught the train to somewhere colse by…. erm, maybe Leeds?’  or talking about ‘the bed and breakfast place that served us Kitkats at breakfast!’  I asked Hubby, how many hours it would be so far, in our almost 16 years of living here that we’ve had to talk about where we’re from (‘no not New Zealand’ closely followed by, ‘no, not London – Yorkshire, in the North – but no, actually, not quite in Scotland…’) or listen to how they did this in London or thought that about ‘Ed-in’burrow’.  It must add up to quite a lot over time.

Maybe it is because we go back soon.  Because I am imagining sitting in a park somewhere (rain is not there in my imagination so please take note UK weather Gods) and eating fish and chips out of paper.  I am thinking about what I will buy pushing a trolley around in Sainsburys.  Wondering what the menu will be like at the local pub near where we’re staying.  It’s not like it is THAT LONG since we were last there (5 months)…. but I am excited about going back.  Even though we’re spending way more time in France/Italy/Spain really and again there’s going to be another shift in culture/language/food etc.

I should admit though that I also miss America when I am away.  Far less so when we all travel ‘en famille’ – I miss my comforts, my home, my BED etc….. but I am ready to get my UK fix, chocolates and all.

Plus the kids need another dose.  In between Bee not understanding a Welsh accent, not knowing what a ‘Wispa’ is and Rory asking if Kate is the Queen’s daughter, my kids just need to learn a little.  I won’t force feed them Marmite or anything, but we need to tone down their Americanisms a tad I think and teach them about the Green Man crossing etc…

Rory wanted to pack his hand luggage today and I finally persuaded him that it may be just a little bit early for that, so instead he has made a pile of stuff under his bed.  Bless.

Soon be home :)

My old people.

There was a comment the other day about a fact I learned (read it in a book)… the meaning of ‘your name is mud….’ and it alluded to the fact I was going to an Old Peoples’ Home.

I have been doing this once a week since before Christmas.  My local library has an entire department designated to taking books to those who cannot make it into the library.  There is a HUGE coach size bus full of books/CDs/DVDs which goes to stops in some of the less affluent neighbourhoods.  There is the smaller minibus sized truck which takes trolley loads of audio books, books (large and regular print), CDs, DVDs and playaways- and this mainly goes to the ‘old people’s’ homes’ or as they call them here ‘senior centers.’

We alternate so I go to each different center twice a month.  I have learnt the faces and even some names (I am very bad at names). It is really quite good fun to meet these people and from a social point of view they are all fascinating.

These are private homes…… you have to ‘buy’ a flat or a bungalow and when you die, 90% of the proceeds revery back to your heirs.  There are also monthly fees which run around $5000 a month.  Yes. Exactly.  Not cheap.  But these places are FANCY.  Really sort of private hospital fancy.  There are beauty salons on site.  And indoor swimming pools on the premises and loads of other amenities I am still learning about. There are different wings for those needing more help – one lady is planning her move over to the assisted living area as her eye sight is failing her for example.

There are some real characters.  Most have a good sense of humour.  I have to try to remember who is deaf or who can’t understand my accent.  A hearing aid, whilst visible, is not automatically switched on. The man who I thought was pulling my leg about not being able to see my face  well I thought that he was just wanting me to move closer to him, but in fact he has the disease often referred to as ‘face blindness.’  I made a joke about Hubby the other week and almost had 2 old dears in tears as they reminisced to themselves how they missed their HUBBIES.  There’s the ex- Army guy who has the Cadillac of wheelchairs ($20 000 – he told me) but who is such a bad driver in the bloody thing you have to pull back your toes quickly.  Some need walkers.  Some I have seen go down hill in even 6 weeks.  a lot have Kindles and no clue how to use them.  Some are just starting to show signs of dementia…. repeating themselves often.  One dear asked me where I was from about 10 times in a 5 minute period.  One man likes his computer but has no real control of his mouse – often ordering 10 copies of the same book from the library’s website.

Sometimes they share their backgrounds with you.  I love this bit.  But you can’t really ASK.  There is the GI war bride – with an English accent but now to frail to ever go back.  There is the ex-Judge who talks politics.  There is the 92 year old who looks in her 70s who tells you about her poor childhood.  A couple this week looked really poorly.  When you ask them how they are, you often get a; “maaah…. well, I’m still alive today!’ and it is their attempt at humour but for a few it is a little too close for comfort.

There is also a big range of ages.  I think there is a minimum age at which they can be admitted.  I must ask.  There are some man-wife couples who are more agile than my in-laws – and they have decided to move in early.  They have their own cars and basically have their apartment on site but are still living 100% independently.  There are 3 restaurants in the places and real top-notch meals from the menus and the food I see – but every home also has its own kitchen should you want to do your own cooking.  There is one lady who has a walker and can’t carry her little bag of books at the same time so I take then to the door of her apartment and help her in.  It is like an executive hotel room with separate living/sleeping/dining/cooking area and en-suite bath.

We have lots of ‘patrons’ who read regular books…. then we have a whole trolley of large print books.  We have 2 trolleys of DVDs – including all the latest releases.  There are some music CDs – but these are mainly requested (we try to bring all requests each time), a whole trolley of audio books and the news play-aways.  These are books being read and all self-contained on a little handheld gadget.  Just plug in your earphones and listen.  Very handy and good for those who can no longer read print.  Except the descriptions on the box are in tiny writing and hard for us to even read out!!!

 

It is quite hard to have the conversation with the patrons about them shifting their reading…suggesting they may now need larger print books or even move to listening to books… it is another sign of their aging demise I suppose.  Some take it better than others.  One of the men who is looking really unwell, has gone from taking out 3 or 4 books and a couple of DVDs to now not really wanting anything.  It feels as though he knows his time is coming to an end and every fortnight I worry he’s not going to be there.

When I started to volunteer I really didn’t know that it would be rewarding.  But it is in so many different ways.  It is a great change for me dealing with these older people when so much of my time is spent with my kids.  Dealing with a 6 year old’s issues and a 14 year old’s homework can be tiresome….. but helping a 92-year-old pick a light-hearted read is the other end of the spectrum.  As well as their picking up books, sometimes they just want a bit of company…. there a cliques just like on the playground (be it the kids or the other moms at pick up time)….there are those who are offended if you even offer to help them.  There are those who complain about the books every time….. and others who welcome movie suggestions.

There are also the paid librarians who run the show too – they are a source of information and even though I might never have met them in my everyday life, I really look forward to chatting with them – not only about books, but their lives away from the library…. one is sorting through a recently lost brother’s belongings….. another has a son fighting away from USA…..

It is also really fascinating seeing WHICH books/DVDs the older folk take out.  You have to be really careful suggesting biographies especially the political ones…..and some of the more raunchy newer movies I worry that they are going to offend…. some have loved the original Swedish version of ‘the Girl with the dragon tattoo’ – rape scene and all – this week another little old lady brought it back as she is legally blind and couldn’t read the subtitles!!!

But this has been one of the best changes I have made in my life in the last year or so.  I don’t think of it as giving back but instead helping others and feeling like I am making a difference.  Laughing time and again when the young guy (well he’s in his 60s, but by comparison)…. who was a famous photographer in Washington DC and has lost his vision,  makes the same old crack about his audio books; “Well it keep me out of the bars!” or being so touched with the man who made a little car for Rory when he went to his woodwork class.  These old folk give ME so much each week.  The odd time a kid has been sick or a Mass appearance has taken me away from my ‘shift’ I have really missed it!

It also makes me see that if I want to ever end up in a swish place like this in my ‘twilight years’ I’d better have a damn fine 401K…..

 

“Your name is mud….”

Apparently the phrase comes from Dr Samuel Mudd, the Civil War-era surgeon who set John Wilkes Booth’s broken leg after he had assassinated Abraham Lincoln.  For helping Booth, Mudd was tried as an accomplice and jailed.  His name became a symbol of disgrace, disgust.

Who knew?

A bit of a moan..

Last night’s idea of letting my youngest stay in my bed sort of back fired on me today….It was one of those moments last night when I just thought how little he is (6) and how he never really sleeps a full night in my bed (Hubby doesn’t approve) and so I snuggled up with him just after midnight and snoozed away.

6am when the alarm clock went off and my stiff neck and shoulder wandered over to turn off the alarm… he kept on snoozing and I came down to get some breakfast in peace.  However I must only have pushed the snooze button as 8 minutes later the siren started blaring from the clock so I had a mad dash (sprint would just be a lie) back to turn it off.

We had to schlepp Paddy’s finished America to school.  He worked on it all weekend and he was paranoid about getting it broken even thought it was all on a flat board.  We put it in the boot/trunk and I instructed daughter to put her guitar to the other side for the drive to school.  We parked up in the rain outside the school building (the rain was actually cheering me up – so rare in these parts) and then Paddy went back to see that her guitar was lying right across his work including hie clay models.  She insisted she had put her guitar at the side and it was all the fault of my bad driving (the cheek!) She stomped off and got into school and he was well pissed off even though nothing was truly broken on his project.  I went and checked he got it in ok (he did) and saw all the other projects the class had taken in.  

I know there is only 3 weeks of the school year left but I got really quite despondent at some of the boards. Because they were so obviously NOT just a 5th Grader’s work but were loaded with articles/printouts/displays from helicopter parents.  A few of us mentioned this at the last parent teacher conference…. our kids do their own work – where you can SEE it is clearly their undertaking and they get a strong B+.  Other parents have gone to town ‘helping’ little Suzie who then gets an A for a power point presentation or graphic designer layouts and it PISSES ME OFF.  The teacher says she is aware of it, but – her words, ‘WHAT CAN I DO?’  Well, it pressed a button today and I felt good Paddy had his own project in there but also felt sorry for the ‘competition’ who have bailed again.  I saw the new kid entering the building late.  His parents didn’t help him either but his looked like he had taken the instruction sheet at face value… it looked like a simple project SHOULD look -wish we had more of those genuine kids at school.

I then went off to see the guy I help with his Literacy issues.  He normally cheers me up no end as whilst I am helping him with simple things, he is so determined and striving to improve, he just oooozes a genuine good vibe.  Today, however being tired and cranky I really struggled to stay awake following his s l o w  reading of a kid’s fiction book – normally my following the words upside down is enough to make me focus.  Thank goodness I had to look up ‘Troupe’ in the dictionary to show him how it compared to ‘troop’ … it kept me awake for the hour.

I headed home with a free day.  Tidied up a little around the house and watched the rain some.  I *might* have finished off a chocolate Easter rabbit (it would nearly be getting to its sell by date soon and it was spare – I practically had to eat it to save world war 3 with the kids…)  I then looked in the mirror and decided that the 3 day consumption of said rabbit had made my boobs grow another size.  This is not a good thing.  I wore a cardigan and a scarf for the rest of the day.

I decided to then go and sit in the dark, pay $6 and see a ‘no thought’ movie…. this was quite relaxing until I looked at my phone and realised I had worked out the times wrong and only had 7 minutes to get across town and pick up Bee from guitar class.  The lights were on my side and I made it in time.

There is of course nothing major in any of this – certainly nothing there to warrant a ‘bad’ day… but it was just a Monday in Mumof4′sville….. 

Better than a day in helicoptermom’sville any day though…..

When a spade is a ‘gardening implement..’

Wrote last week about those type of people who like to jazz it up with the language they use.  When pretenciousness takes over normal ways of speech.  I also referred to my mother-in-law’s ‘phone voice.’  Her poshest tone, which this week she had to keep up quite a while with the computer repair guy via Skype with Hubby…..which he (Hubby) thought was hilarious as the computer guy had a heavy foreign accent and probably struggle to understand MIL either way….

But MIL is Queen Hyacinth at using posher tones – and it always makes me laugh….

In her kitchen, it is NOT LINO but instead ‘vinyl flooring.’

Her brother DOES NOT have a static caravan as a holiday home (actually a retreat from his wife) but has a ‘mobile home.’

Just as she DOES NOT have a ‘downstairs loo’ but a ‘cloakroom.’  The latter TOTALLY baffled Bee a few years ago – it is not a term you would use over here at all and trying to think literally she kept asking MIL where the cloaks were.  MIL thought she was being cheeky (on this occasion not) but it really made no sense to Bee.

She also loves to get in ‘my brother….. the one who has the MBE you know……..’ (he is not the one with the caravan)…. but if she mentions this in front of the father-in-law it is even more hilarious as he calls her on it……”oooooh you just HAD TO get that in, didn’t you???”

(She also has someone on her side of the family who has been in prison for a couple of years…a crime of passion in one way…. and when she refers to Mary, again father-in-law chimes in with ‘Would that be Mary THE PRISONER?’)….

Anyhow, maybe it is just that generation that puts on a posh voice for some and tries to jazz it up to be ‘a bit better?’ I know my gran in shops talks down to the shop assistants like she is the bloody Queen of Sheeba and it is very embarrassing and I told her last time there was no need for it.

Poshest way you know of for something pretty normal?

 

The date.

Since the 5th graders (11 year old) had their ‘sex talk’ at school the other week there has been much discussion about boyfriends and girlfriends.  People asking each other out.  Some say yes, some say no.  Last week Paddy asked out a girl for his mate Henry.  The girl said no.  Henry was devastated.  Tears – the works.

So far Paddy hasn’t been too fussed.  He is very much aware of what is going on in the classroom on this score but that is it.

However Tuesday he shared that Sara had asked him out.  She’s a nice kid.  Her parents are divorced – her dad is a District Attorney, her mom is a Judge.  I’m always scared seeing the mom – not that I have any plans on coming before her on the bench – hopefully definitely not now as  Paddy said no.  In a nice way apparently.  I told him afterwards how he always has to say it in a nice way and go for the ‘I think you’re really nice but I want you just to be my friend’ approach.

But then the next day he came home and said he had asked Paige out.  Who he never talks about at all.  And she had said she’d think about it… (non-committal – good approach).  Anyhow, through Skyping with her mate and her mate texting her, eventually a ‘yes’ came back to Paddy. He was chuffed.

The kids were off school (again) today and there was talk of a triple date.  Paddy, his best mates Liam and Tom and ‘their girlfriends’ too.  So instead of ‘I’m going out with X’ just being a PHRASE – they were actually going to go somewhere – the mall to see a movie with a mom being a chaperone.

However slight issue was that Liam had never told his mom that he had a girlfriend and certainly not that he wanted a ride to go out on a date.  I did not know this.  So I texted Liam’s mom to see if he was ok to go on this ‘date’ to the movies and how ironic it was so soon after the sex talk we were talking innocent movie outings.

So when I picked Paddy up from school yesterday he was livid with me.  I had ruined Liam’s life.  With my text.  Forever.  I am surprised people in UK didn’t hear the bloody commotion.  I was just terrible for having texted about the ‘date.’  So I texted back and said sorry for causing any trouble for Liam and it was just an innocent bunch of kids going to see a film etc etc.

Liam’s mom called me later to see if I could give him a ride.  To the innocent date.  Apparently once he knew a mom was going to be sitting in the row behind them, he was ok about going – before that he had been really worried about it.  Ok then.

So this morning we were getting ready for the date that is not a date.  Paddy had asked Bee fashion advice.  UNHEARD OF.  Last night she had put out an outfit she thought looked good.  This morning he didn’t  like the t-shirt.  He changed it – against Bee’s advice.  Then we suggested maybe jeans instead of the shorts.

Half a can of Axe later, we were ready to go and pick up Liam.  On the way to the drop off at Tom’s house they were discussing how many outfits they had tried on before getting it right (Paddy 3, Liam 1), how long of a shower they had had (Paddy 5 minutes, Liam 20 minutes), hair care (Paddy – none, Liam a good blow dry) and teeth brushing (Paddy – forgotten, Liam, the usual and breath mints in his pocket).  It was hard to keep a straight face whilst driving.  Paddy also wore no socks under his jeans which Liam thought just plain wrong.

When Paddy got in tonight (he was out all day – but not just on the date that was not a date) he was shattered.  He said it had all been a bit awkward.  Liam’ girlfriend was very late and then made everyone move places in the cinema so she could sit where she wanted to.  The other 2 girls were there as arranged a bit earlier but then didn’t want food (discussion in the car also included how Liam and Paddy were planning to pay for the girls’ food and movie tickets).  After the movie the boys then apparently wanted to go to Claires to get the girls some cheap jewellry but Tom’s mum vetoed that one.  But I think Paddy was surprised it was all different dynamics to things at school.

But he still mentioned  ’a girlfriend’ so she hasn’t dumped him yet and it is day 3.  I don’t think he has actually talked much to her though in those few days either.  Tonight I told him to go to bed and I got a; “You don’t need to tell me what to do – I am grown up – I have a girlfriend!”  and I thought WTF????  Apparently Hubby said it to him yesterday when he was in tears (Paddy – not the Hubby) about a little nick on his foot.  Great – so going to her that as an excuse for everything now.

I am trying to adapt the ‘let’s not make this more than it is’ attitude on this ‘dating’ lark (but I also texted Paige’s mom to see she was ok about her going to movies knowing Paddy would e in the group….. she was fine).  I don’t want it to be a ‘absolutely not’ where they’ll just find another way to go about it.  Tom’s mom is more seasoned in this having 2 older boys and she thinks the ‘go with the flow and treat it as no biggie’ is the way to go. Liam’s mom – not so much.

When I was 11 I went to the movies with Andrew F to go and see ET.  Remember it to this day.  Sat next to him and maybe we even held hands.  His mum and dad and his little sisters were there too.  I dumped him in the end and felt very guilty about it too BECAUSE he’d taken me to see ET!  He’s now a vicar I believe…….

At least the Axe smell in Paddy’s room down will get a reprieve for a while after today’s success!!

 

 

 

Footprints.

I have an friend here who is always doing up her house.  I only recently found out that they bought the house ‘sight unseen’ and by American standards it is quite old (almost 100 years!!) and so she is slowly renovating the place and trying to do it in keeping with the style of the place.

A couple of weeks ago she was getting a basement refinished in her bathroom for her elderly aunt coming to stay.  There were a few issues and it ended up being painted and finished literally hours before the woman arrived.  Then they hadn’t tested the pipes properly and when the old dear had a bath, the water drained all over the floor.  She shares these stories with me and yet sounds so very calm about it all and I keep thinking I would be screaming like a raving banshee if it were all happening to me.

As she is quite an official person (she used to be a tax inspector), she follows the rules…. when you do ANY type of work in your house (bar painting) you are supposed to pull a permit – there is a fee and the ‘insector’ comes to inspect the job at various intervals.  Not many people pull a permit.  When we had prices given got our last job, the contractor gave us 2 prices – with a permit and without a permit… and that difference in cost did not just cover the price of said permit… and I had to be home for inspectors so it was my time not theirs being included.  Anyhow, friend had inspector look at bathroom and pass etc.  But said inspector also mentioned her sidewalk (the one around her house perimeter – public footpath) was not safe as several of the concrete slabs had cracked and become uneven.  So she got on it and AT HER EXPENSE has had to have the slabs dug up, drainage re-done according to new city code (which makes little sense) and new concrete poured.  A big expensive job.

Today I received this email from her…..

“I am laughing at the chaos of my day. Charlie the contractor put up new drywall yesterday. Today the sewer backs up, destroys the new drywall and downstairs bath is gross. As this is happening the cleaning ladies walk through the front door, crossing the debris of rubble that used to be my front sidewalk. Did I mention the street sweeper ticketing the crew?  I mean really. The 3 stooges have nothing on me today. It’s pure comedy at this point. I just picked up the husband from the airport and he had to walk our dog over to his moms so he could pee!  Only thing missing is an actual tornado. I would not be surprised by one at this point. 
I have to laugh”

So the day wasn’t going well.  Exchanged many emails with her this afternoon and then this….

“My sidewalk is getting poured right now. The head dude was entertaining me with stories about how people, and their dogs, walk around the cones and barricades, destroying the fresh sidewalk with deep prints. Yep. That would make my day complete. I joked that I would set up a tent and camp out tonight. 

Not as calm on the inside as I may look. The husband decided to just stay at his moms through dinner.”

I felt for her.  I really did.

Then 30 minutes later I got this…..

“Some idiot on a bike had his dog off leash. “

with this photo….

I think you can even still see the guy who poured the concrete leaning on the bloody cone!!!

I shared it with another friend who said she laughed at the photo.  I can’t say she was the only one.

Then…. I know you won’t believe it, but less than 10 minutes later I then got this….

“As I was standing here sending the last dog prints, a guy in a motorized wheel chair (the leash law must not apply to his ego) comes by and doesn’t call his black lab away despite the shouts of all the workmen. That’s all 3 new sections with dog prints. Oh joy!”

So since then I have only had one last email….

“I’m actually sitting on the corner in front of my house guarding the sidewalks. I have officially become one of “those” people.  ”

I may have to check the local news and see if she has lost it with anyone there as of yet.  I imagine her with a miner’s headlamp on her head and a whistle whilst sat on her steps wrapped in a blanket.

I would have had to have been  been sedated by this stage….

Truth be told…

I was talking to a Brit the other day. (Slight aside… when my 11 year old was a LOT younger, and he heard me talking about Brits – he thought I was part of the ‘Britney Spears Fan Club’ and that the other ‘Brits’ were in it too).

Anyhow, we were talking about life over here and we both said how much we hate gum.  People chewing gum that is.  For the longest time I wouldn’t let my kids have gum at all but they would declare it as though they had allergies to it – and it wasn’t like that at all, I just don’t like the yakking chewing motion.  Then a speech therapist told me it can help a kid’s mouth and muscles and I sort of relented a little bit.  But the other Brit and myself mentioned to our friend, an American, how it is so rude to be served by someone who is chewing away on gum. I once told a salesman (cooker) that I couldn’t talk to him as long as he was chewing away, but if he wanted to go get rid of the gum, I would wait for him.  The kids were mortified.  He came back sans gum but I didn’t get the stove from him in the end.  I also shared how we went to a wedding last year and the bride was very obviously and determinedly chewing gum as she entered her reception….

We also shared some of the phrases that we know from UK life (much to our American friend’s amusement).  The way, y’know, some people, y’know say, erm y’know throughout their sentences – y’know the ones.  Or the ‘truth be told’ brigade.  Closely followed by the ‘at the end of the day…’ ones.

My mother-in-law has her own little invigorating one… if you say anything – normally about the kids, she SHRIEKS (in a Belfast accent) “BEEN THERE, DONE THAT, GOT THE T-SHIRT!” Not sure if she thinks it is a hip sort of thing to say but it is bloody annoying.  So much so that it is a joke at our house….. how quickly you can yell the phrase at the most ridiculous similarities that can occur in everyday life.  You also have to say it with a complete air of smugness…..

The phrases that some people use (often without realising it at all) that can drive you mad.

Does it exist over here?  Perhaps.

There is certainly a ‘type’ of language that you hear amongst business people ‘negotiating’.  I often meet up with Hubby in Starbucks, and it is full of people having business meetings so you can often ear-wig the blue tooth end of a conversation, or a Skype conference, or people just showing off on deals they are working on.  Hubby is often amongst these – although not usually with me around.  Put it like this, he is in a couple of Starbucks so often meeting people, that he doesn’t even need to ask for his drink at the counter – they just start making it (doppio espresso macchiato with extra foam in a for here cup) as soon as he’s through the door… the other day I ordered something and paid with his registered Starbucks card with his name on it (don’t even get me started on what I think of that…. it’s in the file with ‘fees for platinum American Express membership)…and they were all; “ooooh so YOU’RE Hubby’s wife…!”    Erm yes.

Anyhow, here’s some of the ones that I hear often whilst sipping my GNFNWPHCAOHFD (which is scolding in UK as I forget the temperature difference) …

“Shoot me an email….”

“Let’s talk real soon….”

“Just wanted to give you a heads up….”

“Let’s get on to it ASAP.”

“It could be a real game-changer…”

“That’s an action item!…”

“So, moving forward….”

“Let’s see what we can bring to the table here”  (not meant as a tall decaf and a muffin)

“Think outside the box a little.”

“They’re gonna have to drink the kool aid on that one!”

It really is like a foreign language.  I was listening to some the other day whilst waiting for said Hubby and I emailed some of the BS to my Yorkshire mate who calls a spade a spade at the end of the day…. (See, it’s catching….)

This was the reply… which made me smile…. maybe it’s a universal bunch of saddos????

“So funny to hear northerners doing their business meetings here at coffee shops. Suits and paunches. They are totally unspun and devoid of  the real high flying office speak. Refreshing. Stuff like “figures down,” “we’ll tell head office this but not this” and “that client is bang out of order dropping their order after all we done for ‘em”.
Coffee shops good for evesdropping. One guy in London was chatting to a Nigerian guy with hardly any english about how to build a refinery. And the clean up after to avoid prosecution and pollute the local villages! “

Hmmmm.

And as for clearing their tables when they are done meeting……. well…..

Goodbye April…

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Silent Sunday