Station to Station

..

They probably all have to do their stint on the platform. You see some more there than others. It's always the grumpy old men when I get there though; times; the extremeties of the day.

Always a bit scared when the ticket person flips and zips down the aisle. I've had it a million times before:

"This ticket is not valid...mate!"

Sometimes I get a "Sir" but they're not normally that professional. They can behave how they want when a fare lister is involved. Once, I was frog-marched down to the excess fares office at Leicester. He told me what I told everyone, "it's an anomaly ticket, i'm from an un-manned station, it's not my fault....the dog ate it!!! ARGH!"

"Un-manned station?" What's that? It's not even a station, just a bus shelter on a strip of concrete in the middle of nowhere. Never seen a ticket man theres. Turns out a few train staff are from where I live, they hate the "station" too!

So, after a regorous negotiation i'm free, only to suffer the same fate at Leciester, and, unless the large Indian guy with the manic laugh is at the gate (he is my friend) then i'll get the same POW treatment.

Here Comes the Sun

..

The houses were only just waking up as we rudely interrupted their sleep. This old train may start at a snail's pace, but when it gets going, that engine really roars. The British Rail Class 43 (cheers Brian...the nicotine train manager) These trains are flat, green, spacious and great for relaxing, but when they power through at 100mph all H E Bates Romanticism goes out of the window.

For the last few mornings the sun has been an electrifying orange. I can feel it - spring is coming!

Last night as I lay in my bed I felt totally at ease. I slipped into a sleep that soothed and, just as I began dreaming, the light came on, "GET UP, TIME FOR WORK!"I hate that initial moment. But, as I write this, still with a sleepy head, and joints that haven't been fully stretched, I realise that if I would have remained in that cocoon of dreams and rest then I would have missed the Sun being born that morning, as it hides behind the thick morning cumulus clouds and mottled blue (W C Williams cheers) sky, to become fixed up there, as if it had never disappeared the afternoon prior.

It's been a while my dears...

Twas a cock fest on the train this morning. That could mean one of three things:

1. A festival of chickens
2. Men with their cocks out taking part in some bizarre ritual
   OR FOR THOSE OF YOU FAMILIAR WITH THE URBAN DICTIONARY
3. More men than women in one particular area.

Not that this is a bad thing. Blokes know how to communicate properly when there are no women around. We become our normal ignorant selfs. With women there's nearly always some tension involved. 68.9% of the time I don't feel comfortable in the presence of women. Sorry, it's just the case. Plus, when i'm doing my hawk-like scour of nosiness in the morning (after the inital sleepy lill where you realise that you can't sleep on a rickety train) women feel phased by this.

Change? Routine...ah that's better

I opened my dirty curtains this morning. Those curtains have framed some of the most amazing mornings, evening and afternoons. This morning they framed a cold dull blueish garden with a thick dusting of clear white snow. It was very special as I realised that I didn't have to wait at that horrible train platform to get to work. (More of trains and train poems later - they are a big part of my working life.)

I was excited, so much so that I couldn't get back into bed. I ran down stairs at once, like a child n Christmas Day, but, instead of piles of presents, I just found a yoghurt in the fridge and boiled the milk for my cereal.

Life, at the moment, is all routine. To borrow the words from the Cartwright classic, Road, "I just wish something different would happen for a change."

It's not as if I HATE my life. Hate is a strong word and, although I may use it frequently, I very rarely mean it. My parents are laboriously boring at times and I just get so fed up with how I know they'll react. Waves of negativity fill my optimistic bedroom most mornings.

Yours, respectfully, J D