It’s all the little things

When I’m walking around, or doing whatever, I always think of things to put on my blog, but when it actually comes to posting, I’ve either forgotten them or just don’t have something else that’s better to say. But it’s all those little things that make my life that little bit more interesting or exciting.......

……. Like the time when that really strange man was lying on the path up the hill from the tram tracks shouting things. Not shouting at anyone in particular, but just, well, shouting. And I think he’d taken his trousers off too, which is quite strange. That was one of those times where you think to yourself ‘Just keep walking, just keep on walking…’

……. Like when I walk home at a certain time of the day, and the people that work at the Ford car dealers at the bottom of Granville Road are letting go of the balloons that they’d attached to some of the cars for sale earlier on in the day. There’s nothing better than seeing different coloured of balloons floating off into the evening sky while you’re strolling home.

……. Like that drunk pikey guy by the station the other day that was peeing on the path (we went up a different path because we didn’t fancy getting bottled by him!) but a Japanese girl was coming down that part of the hill already so she had to pass by him. When she got to the bottom she ran across the tram tracks into the train station, but he ran after her, wine bottle still in hand. We were too far away by that time to do anything about it, so we just had to hope that she was ok by the time she got into the busy station properly. It wasn’t nice. I’d have run a mile without stopping if that guy was following behind me.

……. Like how I always feel like I’m the Railway Children or the Secret Garden every time I walk down Norfolk Road, with all the old houses and the ivy growing on the wall on one side.

……. Like the guy with the crazy hair that lives on the same road that collects really old cars. Every time you go past there’s a new one.

……. Like that massive house that’s all boarded up. There are even chains on the gates and a sign on the side of the house that’s been nailed up, and I really want to know what it says, but it’s too far back from the road to be able to read it. Think old Victorian mansion, Famous Five adventures and a horror story with skeletons under the floorboards and I think you’ll have it pictured just about right.

……. Like when we were walking through town and someone fell down some steps about 10m in front of us. They didn’t get up, and when we got closer we realised it was a really little old lady and she had banged her head quite badly. She wasn’t saying anything, but was just kind of squirming her legs around like she was in pain, if you know what I mean. There were already some people crowding round to help her, so we didn’t stay but I kept thinking about her the rest of the day. It was horrible.

……. Like the ants that were on our kitchen table. I didn’t realise it, but apparently they reeeeeaaally like Malibu, which unfortunately had been spilt all over one corner off it and also down the wall some time around New Years. No one had cleaned it at the time, so even though the table had been wiped recently there was still some stuck right on it, practically inviting the ants to come and have dinner with us. Of course, it was me who ended up having to scrub the table clean. I don’t even know whose the Malibu is.

……. Like when we went to the play park in the middle of the night. Now that is the definition of FUN.

……. Like the time when me and Faye were invited to this ‘new’ church at Norfolk Park, only to find that everyone there was African apart from one girl that played the piano and they were all shouting ‘AMEN’ over and over again.

Pastor: ‘I still can’t hear you!’

Everyone else (minus me and Faye): ‘Amen!’

Pastor: ‘Louder! I still can’t hear you!’ Amen!’

Everyone else: ‘AMEN!’

*continues into shouting match between the pastor and the congregation, getting louder every time until the pastor was satisfied*

Oh how we felt out of place. Then they terrified us by asking for our addresses because Faye had said that she could also play the piano a little bit and I (accidentally) let out that I can play the violin – they’d been searching for new musicians because that one girl on the piano was the only person in the whole place that could play anything, and she needed a break. One sure way of scaring new people is by saying, after them only being there for 5 minutes is ‘You’re the answer to all our prayers!! You’ll have to come back next week and then you can do all the music for us!’ Err… no thank you. They didn’t even quite get the point that a) I am severely out of practice on the violin b) it’s in GERMANY i.e. hundreds and hundreds of miles away c) my mum is using it because she’s starting to learn and d) I said NO, oh and of course there’s always the fact that I wasn’t ever intending going there ever again. Not being mean or anything, they were very nice and welcoming, but they should have stopped after introducing themselves. Seriously.

……. Like how I think it’s cool that I’m reading a book by Joanne Harris, when my middle and last name is Joanne Harris (I didn’t pick it because of that, don’t worry). No one else think that’s cool? Ok then, just me. That’s fine. I might still tell you about it when I’m finished if it’s a good one. Actually, I’d quite like to know if she’s related. She is from Barnsley after all. Does anyone know?? Actually, I guess if she is, it’ll be quite distantly, so no one will know!