I caught a bus the other day and was chatting to its driver. In the course of our conversation it was rather disconcerting to be asked ‘if there was anything coming that way’ when he was at a junction.
He was a lovely chap though, even if I did spend the rest of my ride with my metaphorical heart in my metaphorical mouth. Below is a newly discovered truth:
You don’t expect to use public transport and be requested to help drive it.
… it’s not comforting, okay?
I’m away from home at present and have gazed upon a painting of da Vinci’s and a former Archbishop in the flesh! He has ferocious eyebrows, if you’re wondering.
(The former Archbishop. Not the painting.)
(I don’t think it is her eyebrows that the Virgin Mary is famed for.)
NaNoWriMo is trotting along well enough – currently someone is making a dramatic announcement in a rain drenched street. Don’t ask me why. I didn’t plan it. It just happened.
Also: commas. I’m struggling with them. I think I add them where they aren’t wanted, purely because my brain decides that a page needs buckets more of them then it actually does.
Around The World In Thirty-Days is a good book. I should know. I’ve just read it. However, Phileas Fogg needs to stop being so maddeningly impassive. Emote a little more, dear sir!
I suppose I’d better go back to The Many Trials of a Blacksmith and determine how this chapter ends, as always, I’m not quite sure.
I’m sure I’ll get there though. In the end.