Whimsy on a Wednesday bringing you a thriller on the artistic express

I decided to catch the train across town the other evening to meet a friend for cocktails and tapas.  Normally, this would be a 50-minute drive in traffic or a two-bus journey taking even longer. I thought I’d have a look at the local village train stations and found that a train went exactly where I wanted to go and took only 22 minutes. I paid my fiver and booked a ticket! 

The carriages were pretty empty and I rocked across to the other side of town in no time. I am thrilled by this find. I love going on trains; I feel it gives you time to think and reflect whilst admiring the countryside out of the window. There’s something about travelling by train that seems to quiet the mind or let it unravel so you can sort it out.  The only problem is that the gentle rocking motion makes you very tired and when I got to the other end I could have done with a massage, a downy bed, and a Rumplestiltskin snooze till dawn!

However, I made the effort to visit a Berlin-inspired bar, take in a cocktail, and eat a load of tapas. 

Situational Awareness Extra

I gently trained back in comfort but not without my wits about me. Though it is lovely and serene, there’s a part of my mind that is overly suspicious and on the hunt for ne’er-do-wells and tricky situations. Maybe I’ve watched too many movies but I tend to picture every scenario as a scene in a book or film. The one I was currently in had a thriller written all over it.

From my compact handbag I pulled out a leather coin purse (thanks Michael Watson for putting this in your book) recently purchased from Amazon to ..cough, ahem… keep my very heavy gold pound coins in. I clutched this in my pocket ready to show it up close and personal to anyone coming for a gander. The train stopped in the city and a few passengers alighted. A girl on her phone approached looking furtively around. She passed me, leaving a sillage of Lady Million and tequila shots. Her long, black ponytail swished as she moved to the next carriage. I didn’t hear her talking to anyone on her mobile so that must have been for show. There was plenty of room in my carriage so I wondered why she kept walking.

A man in his early thirties got on. He collapsed heavily into the seat further down. I peered through the gap in the headrests in front of me, though got distracted momentarily by an orange stain and wondered what in God’s name it was. The crack of a ring pull and the hiss of gas brought me back to the suspect who was opening a can. His big hand poured the liquid into his mouth for a very long time. I wondered if this was the one that would make him testy. He expelled a belch and sniffed hard. Leaning back in the chair he groaned and pushed one of his legs out into the aisle. I saw a muddied boot which is odd in summer. It was humid and he was dressed for autumn. He was beige in colour – dark blondish curly hair with sun-kissed highlights and a tanned face. He wore a brown top. He was the shade of the ale he was drinking and it all melded together. I clutched the coin purse a little tighter in my pocket and sat up straight but not so tall that I would draw attention to myself. There was nobody else in the carriage. No ticket master. I tapped the phone screen in my lap – it was a quarter past ten. Only 5 more minutes until my stop.

The return ride is not the same lullaby. 

I got off at my stop and so did the young lad. He greeted his dad with a pat on the shoulder and off they walked, deep in friendly chat. He stopped briefly, remembering to throw his Fanta orange can in the rubbish bin, and smiled in my direction as I passed by. What a lovely, non-murdering, non-threatening, soul.

Why am I such a psycho?

Talking of mental things…

My insane and beautiful wolfit, Tex the lone wolf timber, is now a top-class model for the biggest shop on planet Earth. Here he is showing his pet face to the world as he bites down on an indestructible toy.

There are very few toys that last longer than 30 seconds in this mouth. Exhibit A:

To be fair to the company he is modelling for, he still has this toy which seems to have miracle bounce back that he is unable to puncture. 

Talking of toys…

I recently bought a very nicely engineered technical pen because I worked my way through the 100-day challenge without missing a beat and am now 8 weeks into another challenge #LifeAfter100Days

I went to a local 3-day art festival this weekend and vowed not to buy another arty thing. I failed on day 2 and bought some Caran D’ache graphite pencils, two sketchbooks, the above piece of art from a lovely Australian artist, 4 onion bhaji’s, 3 pakoras, a rustic pizza, and some handmade lemon curd ice cream.  

I think it was the live jazz band and choir, and yet another bloody Pimm’s tent that might have broken my resolve. Having said that, what is resolve?