The Madam On the Train
Taking the train up to Ipswich today reminded me of a chance meeting going the other way.
I was going up to London on business and as my company was paying, I decided to have a full breakfast in First Class. C always used to have kippers! It’s sad to think that you can’t do that now!
I was sitting opposite a well-dressed lady in a formal blouse and dark skirt suit in perhaps her late forties or early fifties. You’d have thought she was a high-powered lawyer or accountant or perhaps the secretary to the chairman of a company like Shell or Lloyds Bank.
As we ate, she constantly questioned me about my business, but gave little away about what she did! I told her how we sold project management systems all over the world, how we did a lot of business in the Middle East and how we had become one of the fastest growing companies in the United States.
She then asked a surprising question. Did we ever need special services for overseas clients? I said that I didn’t know and she replied that all her girls were attractive, clean and many were public-school educated. We then chatted in a more general way about business and how you made it flow smoothly.
As we left the train, she wished me good luck and left me a card! I never used it!
A Dastardly Plot
I am a coeliac as well as being an Ipswich Town supporter. A couple of years ago, Delia was on the radio promoting one of her books and I got to ask her about gluten-free food. She admitted she didn’t know anything about it.
So why at the next away Derby match at Carrow Road don’t we give Delia a test? Let’s get four coeliacs and book a table for lunch before the match. I should say that I’ve asked Ipswich hospitality and they can do gluten-free as can Newmarket Racecourse and the two Premier League Clubs I’ve contacted.
There is one point has to be said. I also talked to Gordon Ramsey about gluten-free food in a restaurant. He said that if you book at least 24 hours before and say you want a gluten-free meal, the restaurant has no excuse for not giving you what you need. I have found that his advice usually works, except in a couple of cases where they have said they can’t, so I’ve just gone elsewhere.
Let’s hope she gets the message.
I always wonder if she got those “Wish You Were Here” postcards Town fans sent on the European adventures a few years ago.
New Readers
I was given a write-up in the Ipswich Town program today and some people who visit, may have been directed from the program.
Don’t take anything I say too seriously, as underneath it all I try to amuse and inform. Remember too, I have other interests outside Ipswich Town, like art, architecture, engineering and trains. I also feel that one of the ways we’re going to get this country out of the mess it’s in, is by appreciating what we’ve got here in these Isles and enjoying it. Who would have thought that a visit to Middlesbrough or Crewe could be so enjoyable. But they genuinely were and I shall be visiting other places in the next few months, that might be equally unpromising. Hopefully, they’ll be equally enjoyable, even if Town don’t win or the trip has nothing to do with football.
The next trips will be Portsmouth and Scunthorpe.
Feel free to post comments. I reserve the right to remove those that are not constructive!
Is Something or Someone Getting At Me?
I’m certain, I’ve read it somewhere, but when you have a stroke you do get a slightly bit paranoid.
I have had a couple of good days, but things seem to keep going wrong despite the most thorough planning beforehand.
It started on Monday, where the house I was wanting to buy in London failed its survey. Let’s face it, I’m crocked enough without having to worry about a house that’s about to fall down on top of me as well.
Yesterday, the plan was simple. I would take the train into Cambridge, play an hour of real tennis and then take a bus back to Newmarket, so that my secretary could pick me up, when she went into town to do the banking. The tennis was great and really does help my movement and left arm, but then Stagecoach intervened. I got to the Drummer Street Bus Station at about 13:45 and that should have given me plenty of time to catch the bus a few minutes after two. When you can’t drive, you get used to the waiting. At 14:40 or so I gave up, as despite the text system telling me three times buses were due, nothing arrived. Obviously Stagecoach have it in for me.
I walked to the train station to catch the next train to Dullingham, which meant a wait at the station until 15:43. But at least the train was on time, even if the single coach was very crowded.
Friday improved after that, as I watched the cricket, where Trott and Broad entertained everybody with some purposeful batting. Also, a friend came round with a goodbottle of wine for pasta in the evening and we put the horse racing industry to rights. He even brought my basset hound a friend to play with!
Today was very much a curate’s egg. It started well, as a friend took me to the station to get the train to London and the train was on-time all the way. I had been intending to see several houses in London with my son, but five viewings had been reduced to two overnight and both had problems. I just feel that something is telling me that I have to stay here for the winter as a punishment. Where I live may be beautiful and in the middle of the country, but when on some days, you see no-one except the postman and the paper lady it is not good. At least my basset hound hasn’t decided to go and live elsewhere!
At least, I was able to get to Ipswich to see Town beat Bristol City, with the help of Calamity James. Sorry David, but you were at fault for both goals. This blog was also publicised in the program.
My problems today started, when I tried to get home. The train to Bury St. Edmunds was on time, but I couldn’t find a taxi in the town. One number said that I could have a taxi at 21:30.
Eventually, I walked to the town centre and found one, that drove me home. But because he was on the rank, he was fifty percent more expensive.
So am I right to feel paranoid? If I’m honest, I suppose I should forgo the simple pleasures in life, like watching Ipswich Town and just watch what Sky deigns to make available.
But that would mean giving into those dark forces that are trying to make me miserable!
I am however made of sterner stuff and won’t let the bastard or bastards get me down!
The other problem is that the bastard getting at me, has made Monday a Bank Holiday. So that means family viewing on the box and no decent sport either.
Rachel Burden on Fishing
I like and respect Rachel Burden on BBC Radio 5 Live.
She went up even more in my estimation, when she described her fishing expedition in Devon recently.
Fishing really is one of the most boring pastimes. It’s almost as boring as watching soaps like East Enders or Coronation Street.
August Birthdays
With Samantha Cameron having given birth in August, there has been a lot of talk recently about the disadvantage of August birthdays.
But it wasn’t always so!
Both my late wife and myself would have considered ourselves successful; she as a barrister and racehorse breeder and myself as a computer programmer, who helped create a multi-million pound company. We were both born in August many years ago.
Our most successful son of three is at the peak of his profession in London, despite leaving school with no qualifications at all. And he too was born in August.
So why this stigma against August births? Perhaps Leos and early-Virgos have a drive lacked by others, born in colder months.
I should say that some years ago I analysed all the birth weights for a year in an English county to see if we could find any patterns that might point to why some children were born with a low weight. One of the findings was that twins were more numerous eight or nine months after Christmas. Unfortunately, the data wasn’t good enough to know if the twins were identical or fraternal.
So I do wonder if some August children, having been conceived perhaps after a party, just want to get on with life and don’t succeed.
The Anonymous Widower 