A vehicle belonging to a certain motoring assistance organisation was towing an identical vehicle belonging to the motoring assistance organisation behind it past my house as I pulled in from work today. One all. I wonder whose tow rope the policy states that they should use?
I have calmed down since yesterday, especially since realising that I am not being picked on at work (the management of people at my school is not outstanding by any means) and that I have skills which I thought I had forgotten. I command respect among staff and students, a number of whom have taken it upon themselves individually to indicate that I will be missed when I leave. I was also grateful for my sister sending me some kind wake-up words after yesterday’s post. My family are very good at knowing me better than I know myself. Time after time.
Interestingly, had I been at home today the bomb squad would have evacuated me and Lily at an inconvenient time to dispose of another local bomb. I feel like I am a war correspondant some days, what with two bombs this summer already in my vicinity (the first was in Felixstowe, which the navy lost and found again: probably). According to my new read on how to write words properly, war is a Good Thing for selling words. Personally I think war is an unutterably Loathsome Thing and would never want to profit from another’s tragedy.
Still, it’s nice to know that even vehicles from a certain motoring organisation are not above asking for help when all goes wrong.
jam and giraffes 