Tip Rage ?

Today got off to a great start. A swim, followed by a trip into town where Boots had my drugs ready, the ticket machine at the stations coughed up my train tickets for a trip to London on Monday, and the queues in the two banks I had to visit were manageable.

It all started to go wrong when I took a trailer load of green rubbish to the tip. The people using the tip this morning all seemed to have had a brainectomy. Cars were strewn around and the standard of driving was appalling. How did these people pass a test? As a result it took me two minutes to empty the trailer, but around 15 minutes to extricate the Land Rover and trailer from the melee. It is a good job that the chief culprit (a man in a Ford C Max, with his wife as co-pilot) were having a row some distance off my trajectory as I came out, because by this time, I was beginning to think that a scratch or two on the old Defender might be a price worth paying to get them into a ditch. I suppose you'd have to call it "Tip Rage".

It was my half yearly back service at the Chiropractors and while I was waiting, I was joined by a teacher who used to teach the twins. He could hardly walk, poor man, having started to exercise and done his back in on the treadmill at the gym he has just joined. That will teach him to listen to his new wife. I do hope he is better soon, because I do have some idea of the discomfort he was in.