“Not bringing the camera!” I declared firmly as we went out the front door.
“Just shopping. There and back is all!”
Sometimes it’s better if you don’t have a camera because then you can relax and enjoy everything.
My friend Tim was a great photographer. (He’s still with us but he doesn’t use a camera much these days.)
So, sometimes when I travelled with Tim, I didn’t lumber myself with a camera, announcing grandly that I was “bringing a photographer ” with me.
We were lucky enough to take one special trip twice and the second time, I did take my own snaps of which I am now glad.
Not that I look at them often, but they captured my own special little moments and there is something to be said for that.
Back then, there were no digital cameras so I had to be a little restrained!
This morning I had not really felt inclined to go out, having a number of chores in mind.
But instead of visiting the garden centre yesterday, I had got hijacked into something else, after which we made tracks home to the little darlings who were expiring from weakness.
“Half rations and no lunch!?” they moaned.
We are so cruel. But it isn’t actually half rations. It’s more like two thirds and lunch hour is a moveable feast. We reserve the right to offer it at a time of our convenience.
Besides, they are always asleep during the day.
Regrettably, not always at night.
But once more, I digress…
Our new flower bed still looks like a cemetery plot and I was keen to replace my sadly departed Shasta daisy.
So off we went, deliberately sans camera.
Before I had even sat my bottom in the car, I was in my bag and pulling out my little old Cool-pix that I always carry, just in case!
These images are from that camera.
Main Street Cambridge
We shot off to the Post Office and then back-tracked, which gave us a chance to see the clouds that suddenly boiled up out of the north.
When I went outside at 6 o’clock this morning, I walked into a wall, not so much of heat as of humidity. It reminded me of my first encounter:
During the first eight years of my life, I had never experienced heat and in England, a humid condition was referred to as being “damp” or “close”.
Mostly it was damp which made Dad moan.
Our endless flight to Bangkok in 1956 made a transit stop in Calcutta (Kolkata), in the middle of the night. As we left the aircraft, a wall of clammy heat hit us. I remember thinking the air was thick.
Whatever it happens to be called, it does not suit me!
My father moaned about quite a lot of things but especially the climate and driving.
Today it was Grant’s turn to whinge, not about the weather:
“Oooh Nooo! It’s another Bubble-butt!”
“Those people in those cars! They always drive 5 miles under the limit.”
It’s a thing apparently, in these parts.
It’s called 5 and 5.
People drive either 5 miles over or 5 miles under the speed limit.
“Those people in those cars!”
“Now we’re going to go putt putt, all the way to Greenwich!”
“They’re always from Vermont too!”
“Vermont drivers are the worst!“
We approached the round-a-bout which precipitated another moan:
“Oh No! She’s still there. She’s going to torture me all the way!”
Is there a man in this world who does not moan and whinge when driving?
At least I can tease Grant when he does it.
My father used to get angry and said very rude words.
No doubt it’s where I acquired my sometimes flowery vocabulary.
Last night I was working on my PC and hit a wrong button, re-setting everything on my screen.
“….!” I said
Somehow I had activated Siri, that annoying entity which would oversee my life. I was rebuked:
“I don’t know how to respond to that!”
Chuckling, I sent her back to sulk unappreciated, unneeded in the recesses of my computer.
Grant is not a bad driver, grumpy, for sure, but with him at the wheel I feel pretty safe.
He seems to have an inbuilt detector for police traps and guess who slows right down to creep past those!
Other times, when not moping behind another Vermont driver, this is how we travel:
He claims that I have a lead foot. Cheek.
At the garden centre I noticed crows at the top of a skeletal tree. They seemed very interested in whatever was over there, so I got their picture.
Maybe they were evaluating the weather.
Now I must find a place to put my new plants, two Cone flowers and the Shasta.
Here are some pictures of our “sticky” morning, from my other camera.
4 thoughts on “Moans”
Thank you, Carolyn, for your musing and the photos.
You will go out without any means of taking a photo – one day!
Humidity is also not something we’re very fond of … and apparently it’s present here in East London during summer time … we’ll see how that goes! I had a good laugh at Grant’s “bemoans” on the road – he would have a real ball of a time here in SA (bemoaning both the speedsters and crawlers)!
There is an old saying that the best photos are taken on the camera that you actually have with you all the time.
Best wishes, Pete.