boreders

This morning, I woke to what might best be described as a heavy frost. I’m not sure it warrants the description ’snow’, as it seemed largely to involve rock hard ice with a deceptively thin sprinkling of loose material on top. Having fallen over 6 weeks ago and sprained my foot, I didn’t fancy going anywhere - but, today was my first day back at work and I’m not sure I have an option to not come in because it’s a bit icy.

As it happens, the journey proved largely calamity free. The motorway was pretty loose and free flowing. I spotted a couple of distraught drivers and their ruined cars in the opposite lane, but nothing on my route… until I reached work…

The site I work on has a barrier controlled entrance, but in the morning - to sooth congestion, users of the fourth car park (a temporary gravel affair) can access it from a side entrance through a rusty metal gateway. A small slip road cuts away to the left from the main road, and as I approached I saw a security guard walking over towards the gate, a few scattered orange cones, and a sign warning ‘Icy’. Icy… fur sure. Before the guard could do much to stop me, I drove on to the slip road and proceeded to hit a sheet of ice. Brake and hand brake instantly applied, I slid for a good 9 or 10 yard, before coming to a stop with a cone pressed against the front of the car.

To travel around 35 miles and suffer a nearly accident in the final few yards… How embarrassing is that?!

Having breathed a sigh of relief in my last post that Manchester didn’t get the snow reported at the time, I can say we did get a bit on Tuesday. I know, because the first footstep I took outside met with a surface like glass, and I ended up crashing to the floor, twisting my ankle and doing something painful to my big toe. I now hobble around the house looking mournful and pathetic, unable to do much other than potter. I can carry on doing work, so I’m not a complete loss to society.

I think, as I fell, I had it in mind to concentrate on using my ass to cushion me, because a work associate did something seriously painful to her elbow last year falling with arms outstretched. When I informed a friend of my predicament, he exclaimed - “Isn’t that something old people do?”. Oh yeah… I feel the healing waves of compassion and concern washing over me.

Current reading:

Blind Faith

Ben Elton. Transworld Publishers 2008, Paperback, 368 pages, $6.49

Looking at the news, I’m glad that snow didn’t hit Manchester. Mind you, that’s not to say I might not have to content with it tomorrow if I start heading off away from Stockport. Which I will. Mind, I have checked the Internet and the only reference I can find about ’snow’ in respect of Liverpool is a bit about Snow Patrol appearing at a concert there next year. There’s a relief.

Current listening:

A Hundred Million Suns

Snow Patrol (Primary Contributor). Polydor/Fiction/Geffen 2008, MP3 Download, $8.99

I can’t believe we’ve come around to that time of year again when the days grow short and the driving grows dark. I hate driving headlit, ploughing through the gloom and darkness. Hard enough keeping track of all the idiots on the road when you can see them clearly.

In the UK, you should drive with headlights an hour before sunset and an hour after sunrise. Yet again, people fail miserably to remember anything they learnt while they had a test to pass. So, I found myself driving home at the beginning of the week gazing in disbelief at the three drivers I saw who persisted in keeping their lights off well into the late gloom period. I mean, I even flashed one of these idiots and nothing seemed to register. The motorway was filled with cars, all lit up - and yet it didn’t seem to phase these guys. It’d be like turning up at a fancy dress party dressed in shirt and jeans to find everyone else dressed in Halloween costumes… and then spending the entire evening utterly oblivious to the funny looks you’re getting.

I realise I should be concentrating on my own driving, but sometimes as I overtake on the motorway I glance across into the car next to me and I might as well be seeing something from a Romero movie. Drivers with vacant eyes, gripping the steering wheel with stiff fingers, focus unmoving. You might as well remove the mirrors and indicators from these cars, cause once they settle into the middle lane, that’s it until they get home.

Anyway… on the upside, I just went to the garage to get something from the fridge - and I found myself with a shadow. A moon shadow. I looked up to find the dark sky lit by a brilliant crescent moon, a scattering of bright stars dotted around the heavens between wisps of thin cloud. You can get a sky like that any time, but somehow I like them best in the autumn. Autumn and I get on just fine, because I’m not allergic to anything at this time of year and it isn’t so cold your extremities fall off after 5 minutes outside. Perfect.

Until I have to get behind the wheel of the car again…

I was just gathering up the recycling this morning (around half an hour ago), on an otherwise ordinary day. I had sat down with a pile of unread newspapers and made sure I hadn’t missed anything obvious to keep for a more detailed read later. Then, I dropped the papers all in a plastic bag, grabbed a soup can for the metal recycling box, and stepped out into the cul-de-sac… to see a black car, with a very large roof ornament, making a turn and pulling away. On the back of the car, a small logo proclaimed ‘Google’. I had witnessed the passing of the Google Street View Car, continuing an extended roam around Britain (and Europe).

It would seem spotting this elusive vehicle has become a bit of a sport. In America, Street View has raised privacy fears, catching fleeting visions of our streets, homes, gardens - and just what might be happening through the window when the car passes. In the UK, despite some initial concerns, the Information Commissioner’s Office approved Street View back in July.

So, that leaves me wondering now whether I’ll make an appearance myself, a vague shape in the porch gathering up the newspaper recycling bag, or just opening the door to step out into my drive way. Thankfully, I wasn’t doing anything too embarrassing - something others cannot claim across the Internet, like the Aussie drunk.