A nice ending to a rubbish day was my new painting getting a bid on it. While I was listing it last evening, I decided to do a bit of tweaking so left off the photo, assuming that said tweaking would be done and dusted after about thirty minutes. Didn’t happen. Thirty spare minutes did not come my way until about 24 hours later. I’d been in and out the house so many times today that I felt like the little wooden Cuckoo who’s forced to dash out of his door to announce to the room that another hour has passed. Getting places takes so much longer when you don’t drive. Alas, only a blind examiner with no fear threshold would give me a driving license. I’m far too easily distracted to be behind the wheel of a vehicle. Pretty flowers, smiley dogs, even interesting old chimneys would take my eyes from the road ahead. It’s not that I don’t know how. I started learning at age 15 on private roads in an old mini van, boyfriend of the moment explaining patiently the benefits of something called micromesh gears. Couldn’t have been listening too closely because I still don’t know what they are. At age 17, I even had proper driving lessons with an adorable instructor named Arfur (spelled Arthur but he had a really thick Cockney accent). Lovely man, taught me loads about his exploits in the army. We didn’t really cover the topic of driving much during these lessons though. This might explain why I can neither turn a car left or reverse one around a corner. Anyhoo, here is today’s offering.
“Moorgate Street” By Claire Shotter. Up for auction @ www.ebay.co.uk