08.03.10 - and so to work

I turn and lock the back door having said bye to the dog as she lies sulking in her basket. Her eyes avoiding me, her face turned away. It is like this every time I go to work and leave her behind. I step out into the sunshine casting my eyes over my 'patch' as I leave, absorbing it so I have it's memory safely inside of me. Walking down the gable end of the terrace and turning right onto the road, I hesitate, check for traffic then step out onto the road to cross it. There, in front of me is a friend in her garden, we wave cheerily and pass suitably English weather orientated greetings to each other. She in her cords tucked into her long brown socks and boots and fleecy hat tied up in a fetching manner and me in my black 'bovver' boots and long skirts I inappropriately wear to work.

I pass the library, where workmen have loitered in hi-viz jackets for the last three or four weeks. They look up and are disappointed, I am neither a dolly-bird  nor wearing anything worth whistling at.

Passed the Post Office with its Mother's Day display of pink balloons and pink teddies, which according to a rather hastily handwritten sign are all for sale.

Passed the old corner police station that had once briefly held a local radio station which before that had been the old bank and is now empty.

Passed the community centre with a clutch of young mums in short skirts and tight tops who are balancing their tots and babes on plump hips as they chat and laugh their way into the hall for the weekly get-together. I remember those days, same hall, same day, different mums.

I glance across the road towards the Cenotaph, there is a tired bouquet lingering sadly at it's base. I suspect one left over from last week's funeral. Cars drive by, some of the occupants I know well and wave to, some I know in passing and nod a hello and others are strangers who drive through without even looking.

Across the bridge, where years ago I clambered down and rescued a stray kitten as it clung to a semi submerged branch. Passed the old chapel, now a smartly converted house who's owners keep hens in the graveyard.  A strangely incongruous  sight of hens basking in sunlight with their backs being warmed by leaning tombstones remembering long forgotten dead.

Over the next bridge, with it's feral ducks. It's not far off spring, there will be ducklings soon.  I nod a greeting to another mum pushing a pram, I know she won't be joining the others at the community hall - not her scene, she keeps herself to herself. The bus rumbles by as I head towards the bus stop at the bottom of the school lane. Old dears heave themselves in and youngsters fall noisily out and the bus sets off again in a cloud of pungent fumes.

I wait as a car turns into the garage on my left. When we first lived here,  Himself used to use this one, but when a trainee mechanic in his enthusiasm set fire to his beloved car, Himself never returned.  Passed the new houses, that only five years ago stood a derelict mill. A health and safety nightmare of asbestos and unstable walls where the village children played imaginary games and teenagers smoked illicitly.

Along the main road, the occasional car trundling by. A lycra clad cyclist slices through the still cold air, calf muscles bulging and cheeks puffing.

Passed the house where only last week someone who'd lived in the village as long as anyone could remember,  was packed off to a home for the bewildered by a well meaning distant relative. It won't be long before this quiet terraced house with it's outhouse and 1950's wall paper and furniture will be put up for sale and stripped of all it's history ready to start a new history with a new owner.

In the distance, between the sound of my boots on the pavement and the birds singing encouragement to the sun, I can hear the local primary school - it's break-time and the children are giving voice to their temporary freedom.

Nearly at work,  I glance up, it is the most brilliant blue, not a cloud in the sky. What a shame to be inside.....

I turn up into the car park and on reaching the staff entrance, I punch in the security code and pause for a second.

Breathe. 

Time for work.