This top is new. It was a remarkable £1.97 from Primark, Ipswich. It also belongs to my daughter. Never thought I'd see the day when I was pilfering from my teenage daughters wardrobe, but hey ho.
I put it with a white skirt, grey tights, a long heart shaped pendant and hot pink shoes (also wore my purple coat and I was really loving the colour combo).
We have slipped into a pattern on Friday evenings. I finish work, go collect the relevant children (when I say relevant, I rarely collect just my own two children, Friday night is sleepover central in my house). Go collect Martha (aka my mum, her name isn't Martha but for some reason I call her that). And then we all trot down to Bury St Edmunds Tesco Supermarket for dinner in their café. (Oh the glamour of Dinner in Tesco!).
Every Friday at the same time, an older gentleman also eats there, alone. Now this will sound really really mean, but at first sight I wondered if he might be a tramp?. Terrible I know, but do you know what I mean, when you get an impression of somebody that may well be very wrong?.
Well, he's not a tramp. (At least I don't think he is) And as the weeks have gone on, we've progressed from a polite 'hello' to a few words conversation. Occasionally I bump into him out of situ, in a pub for example. My friends are often bewildered as to how I know this man. My daughter always pokes me and says "There's your new friend".
I can't really claim that he is my new bessie mate, I don't even know his name, but if next Friday I go to Tesco and he isn't there, I will be concerned and wonder if he is okay.
I do have some very random conversations with very random people, it is true. And I guess it is because I invite these conversations. It's very good for the soul!
ps. Just spotted a weird thing. In the photo up top... my reflection in the glass behind, my bazookas are either on fire or emitting a strange glow...
