Middle Aged Delinquent
Hi Folks, sorry for my prolonged absence. I've been busy, I guess - rehearsals for the murder mystery, all kinds of WI functions and duties, organising my church's annual charity auction tomorrow, burrowing through my stash and listing it on eBay, and I seem to spend a lot of time wrapping up brown paper parcels and going to the post office. I'm developing a wonderful relationship with the two gals at my local little PO! They apparently miss me on days I don't stop by.
For some silly reason I thought that if I removed 100 bags of wool (none of this 3 bags full malarkey for me!) from my house that it would be tidier in here. Just goes to show how wrong a girl can be.
I had a rather funny brush with the law on Wednesday. I had to go to Stamford (in Lincolnshire, I think) to pick up some stuff that I'd bought at an auction up there last Saturday - Rule Number 1 of selling things at an auction house - DO NOT GO TO THE AUCTION OR YOU WILL SPEND EVERYTHING YOU'VE MADE. Anyway, Stamford is a dickens of a place to park (as are most cities, towns and villages in the UK, I must add for the benefit of those in other parts of the world). When you couple that with my innate inability to find my way around while driving, I was having a white knuckle moment when I found myself driving through a pedestrian precinct. I was doing my best to ignore all the glares I was getting when I was accosted by a policewoman on foot. Now, in all honesty, if I had to wear the uniform that she has to wear, I would be out of sorts on a permanent basis as well. She started blathering away about just how many offences I was committing, and I was shrinking (great way to lose weight, I think) behind the wheel by the moment, and repeating a mantra of "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'll never do this again" while expecting a public flogging at best, and beheading at worst. Anyway, she fell for my feigned contrition and said that she'd let me off just that once, and directed me to where I wanted to go, and in 30 seconds I was at the auction house - with nowhere to park except the taxi rank in front. I dashed inside and said that I was going to try to find a parking space, which I did after 15 minutes, and then went back, paid for my stuff, and then got my car and pulled up once again into the taxi rank. The porter carted out my stuff and I was good to go. I was just about to set off in my quest to figure out how to get out of Stamford when who should stroll up but - you guessed it - the same not so friendly WPC. I rolled down my window and she said "It's not you again!!!!! Do you realise that it's illegal to park in a taxi rank?". So I figured the game was now up and I was going to be hanged as soon as they could cobble together a gallows. I reverted to a slightly altered version of my mantra of apologies, saying that I had just been there for 2 minutes while picking up things from the auction house and was on my way out of town, and if she thought it best I'd never ever return to Stamford. She said, "Well, I could never tell you that", and I thought, "Yeah, but I bet you wish you could, you officious little madam". So I managed to get away with it. I'm delighted! I have a long history of talking my way out of fines and points on my licence with MALE police, but this is a first to get away with it a woman, let alone twice in the space of half an hour - Wahoo!!!!
Thanks for dropping by, and if you want to have a look at my stuff on eBay, there's a link in the sidebar on the right. There's a bunch more stuff that's scheduled to start during the next week, 'cause I'm off to Prague week after next and I've tried to time things so that nobody will have to wait for long for their purchases.
Have a great weekend, and happy Olympic knitting!
Love,
Nance
For some silly reason I thought that if I removed 100 bags of wool (none of this 3 bags full malarkey for me!) from my house that it would be tidier in here. Just goes to show how wrong a girl can be.
I had a rather funny brush with the law on Wednesday. I had to go to Stamford (in Lincolnshire, I think) to pick up some stuff that I'd bought at an auction up there last Saturday - Rule Number 1 of selling things at an auction house - DO NOT GO TO THE AUCTION OR YOU WILL SPEND EVERYTHING YOU'VE MADE. Anyway, Stamford is a dickens of a place to park (as are most cities, towns and villages in the UK, I must add for the benefit of those in other parts of the world). When you couple that with my innate inability to find my way around while driving, I was having a white knuckle moment when I found myself driving through a pedestrian precinct. I was doing my best to ignore all the glares I was getting when I was accosted by a policewoman on foot. Now, in all honesty, if I had to wear the uniform that she has to wear, I would be out of sorts on a permanent basis as well. She started blathering away about just how many offences I was committing, and I was shrinking (great way to lose weight, I think) behind the wheel by the moment, and repeating a mantra of "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'll never do this again" while expecting a public flogging at best, and beheading at worst. Anyway, she fell for my feigned contrition and said that she'd let me off just that once, and directed me to where I wanted to go, and in 30 seconds I was at the auction house - with nowhere to park except the taxi rank in front. I dashed inside and said that I was going to try to find a parking space, which I did after 15 minutes, and then went back, paid for my stuff, and then got my car and pulled up once again into the taxi rank. The porter carted out my stuff and I was good to go. I was just about to set off in my quest to figure out how to get out of Stamford when who should stroll up but - you guessed it - the same not so friendly WPC. I rolled down my window and she said "It's not you again!!!!! Do you realise that it's illegal to park in a taxi rank?". So I figured the game was now up and I was going to be hanged as soon as they could cobble together a gallows. I reverted to a slightly altered version of my mantra of apologies, saying that I had just been there for 2 minutes while picking up things from the auction house and was on my way out of town, and if she thought it best I'd never ever return to Stamford. She said, "Well, I could never tell you that", and I thought, "Yeah, but I bet you wish you could, you officious little madam". So I managed to get away with it. I'm delighted! I have a long history of talking my way out of fines and points on my licence with MALE police, but this is a first to get away with it a woman, let alone twice in the space of half an hour - Wahoo!!!!
Thanks for dropping by, and if you want to have a look at my stuff on eBay, there's a link in the sidebar on the right. There's a bunch more stuff that's scheduled to start during the next week, 'cause I'm off to Prague week after next and I've tried to time things so that nobody will have to wait for long for their purchases.
Have a great weekend, and happy Olympic knitting!
Love,
Nance
posted by Nance at 10:26:00 am
2 Comments:
I have giggled reading this post because I used to live in the strange little county of Rutland and Stamford was my local town so I can picture you in that pedestrianised area very well, it must have caused much surprise. I think there is quite a lack of crime around the area (unless you count growing leylandii hedges which causes uproar) so the police don't have a great deal to do!
Oh, Nance you are funny. Our policemen have stopped letting me talk myself out of fines. I regard it as more evidence that I am becoming fat and middle aged. Too sad...
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