Orbits

Blood was 3.8 this morning - danger-zoney low. I think tonight I'll only take one of my two remaining pills, and see what happens to the numbers tomorrow.

Got up around seven this morning and left d in bed. I walked up to our local park - Cyfarthfa (don't try and pronounce that unless you're Welsh, you'll sprain at least one vital tongue muscle) - and spent an hour or so walking around its lake. Ma reckons that once around the lake is half-a-mile. I have my doubts that it's quite that far, but it's no pushover either. When I arrived, at 7.23, I was the only walker in the place and it was very dark, the idea of dawn coming slowly in the Valleys, because the Sun has to filter down the slopes to get to us.

After I'd done a couple of laps, I passed a doughty older woman with an umbrella, going in the opposite direction. She nodded to me, I tipped my hat to her and on we went, like atoms circling the centre of the lake, each in our own orbit. We went round another couple of times, tipping hats and nodding and even occasionally sharing a smile or a word. I didn't want to make her feel obliged to say anything to me though, so I kind of deliberately snubbed her once, and then felt like a mean metropolitan bastard for snubbing a woman who'd been perfectly nice to me at every opportunity afforded her by the limited and frankly bizarre nature of our relationship so far. So then - being British - I had to over-compensate and be extra smiley to her on the next trip round. In fact, I started smiling when I saw her coming round the bend, a couple of hundred yards away. And I had to keep it up until she drew close enough to interpret the smile.

Nothing! She blanked me! Clearly, she'd thought we were developing a nice, civilised, hat-tipping, head-nodding, ships-passing-in-the-night kind of relationship, and then wallop! I'd dropped my eyes, I'd broken the social contract between us, and now she was gonna make me suffer for it.

I was still reeling from that when a man with a dog overtook me. I was taken aback. It was like:
"Hold on a minute - where the fuck did he come from?"
I'd gotten so used to the rotational nature of my morning so far, crossing the path of the older woman at two specific points for every lap, it was as if my brain couldn't cope with the idea of any extra variables.

So now there were three of us, plus the dog. Two of us and the dog were going one way round the lake, the older woman who's just dealt me the social death-blow was going the other - clearly, she was the rebel. Right, I thought...Two and a dog onto one...

But, sad as I know this is, another thought bubbled up through my clueless brain...
"I've just got to lap this bastard with the dog once before we take out the old lady. I've got seniority here, pal, you can't come swanning in with your four-legged friend and just own the lake!"

So I did - I put on a burst of speed, passed him once - no acknowledgement, not yet - we're not brothers in arms till you see me next, alright? I passed the old woman again, and this time she smiled!
Fuck! Now I had no idea how to play the social dynamic at all. I returned the smile, thinking "just you wait, grandma, I've got a bastard with a dog on my side of the cycle..."
I hadn't gone more than fifty paces beyond her, and had yet to catch Man With Dog, when a whole new variable entered the scenario. Bigger Man With Fuck-Off Enormous Dog! Going the old biddy's way! Sonofabitch! I sang at him. I don't know why - partly a panic reaction, partly defending my diminishing territory, I think. It probably wouldn't have been quite so weird if the song on my iPod at the time hadn't been The Addams Family Theme.

You've probably never had a fat bloke in a damp hat suddenly sing "They're CREEPy and they're kooky!" at you for no discernible reason while you're out walking your dog, I shouldn't think, but try and imagine you have and picture the look of consternation that would cross your face. Then double it. More importantly, try and imagine the look that would cross your dog's face, in apparent contravention of biological possibility, in those circumstances. The dog might have been big, but clearly it was a wuss-ass. It nearly fell in the lake. Anyhow, I didn't have time to think about them right now - I had Original Man With Original Dog to catch. I didn't exactly run, but I did put on one of those camp-as-tits competitive-walker wiggles, cutting a corner or two to catch him on the back straight. Of course to do that, I had to cross the Brolley Nazi's path once more.
"Windy, isn't it?" she said, with offensive cheerfulness.
"Ah, fuck off Grandma!" - I didn't say it, but the monologue was coursing in my head. I may, just possibly, have clicked my fingers at her, twice, in time with the Addams Family, the details are a little blurred now. But did I catch Original Man With Original Dog? - Fuck yes! I'm not an obsessive, scary dickhead for nothing, you know. I actually slowed down once I knew 'victory' was assured, so I could sing all the way up to him, and at him, and past him. We'd moved on to the Mad About You theme by that point, so he heard me first.
"Tell me why-" I demanded, at least vaguely in tune. "-I love you like I do!"
He looked round, but didn't quite know what to make of this new addition to his day.
"Tell me whoooo!" I sang as I passed him, "can stop my heart as much as you..." And off I went.
I encountered Big Man With Big Dog again of course. I didn't say that Original Man With Original Dog had challenged him to a fight, but you can do a lot with a tilt of the head and an eyebrow when people are watching your every move in case you suddenly sing at them again. And then finally, I encountered the Old Biddy again.
"That's me for today, I think," I said to her cheerfully. I think she got the message.
"You and me - same time, same place tomorrow, bitch - I've got my eye on you..."


It's entirely possible I should 'get out more.' But then again, on the basis of what I've just revealed to you, it's equally possible I should stay the Hell indoors for the safety of myself and others.

Bookshelves for the office arrive tomorrow. Absolutely nowhere productive to put them at the moment. So...that'll be Interesting...