This morning was a little bit of a rush. Getting up late and fighting with a warm bed which was very difficult. Warm beds have a kind of power, one which holds you and makes it a struggle to get out. Even when you can see the time clicking by. Just a few more minutes please. I'm not quite ready to face the world when you are so affectionate. Eventually I got up, but time was limited, I'm heading up to Scotland this very moment on the East Coast mainline. My calculations gave one hour to get ready, breakfast, wash, dress and out the door to catch a London bound commuter train. Another item besides bed was listening to the radio, an interview was taking place between the leader of the opposition and the presenter. Ed Miliband and Jim Docherty. The time pressure was mounting up now. How much of the interview I would get to hear would depend on a constant awareness of every minute. There is no way I can miss the train, tomorrow is Sparkling's birthday, it's the big five-oh (50). I hadn't looked at the tickets sufficiently to understand what kind of train ticket I'd bought. If restricted to time, seat, day etc the consequence of missing could be an additional finance. The train had to be caught. I measured each minute with half rushed pleasure and half rushed panic. However, Mr Miliband would not commit himself to saying exactly what Labour would do in respect of Europe. There are advantages to being in Europe, but I am one of those who thinks it has been a mistake. There are probably a lot of us who think this way. I picked up bags, Bertha (the Ukulele) and took them downstairs to the front door. Time check. Seems all OK, boots on and out the door, with about four minutes to spare between arriving at my local station and the train to London.
A small panic ensued as to whether I would get to Kings Cross on time and in the end made it. The tube however was well and truly packed. If I'd taken out a bottle of olive oil and doused it on, I doubt whether it would of been any easier. It was not a pretty experience and one which would of made a claustrophobic's nightmare. My feet were even cramped, there was no hand hold within reach, so I stood there balancing as best I could and at the same time swaying against other people for support. Odd, whatever was supporting my back was soft, then I realised it was a man behind me, so did my best not to lean on him. The pressure to be at Kings Cross made it necessary to get on this train. Normally I'd of been put off by it, let it pass by and wait for another, but time was ticking. At moments like this a watch can be a good and a bad thing. I don't wear one, not at the moment anyway.
At Kings the 10:00 a.m. Aberdeen train had already arrived and passengers were boarding. There was plenty of time on the clock. Nearly twenty minutes. I could of missed that tube and got another, but at the time who was to say I'd make it? Now I sit travelling on the East Coast mainline northwards. I'm facing forwards, which is always nice, looking out the window, typing and moving at about 50 m.p.h. it's not at full speed, but the scenery is amazing. Every field, every tree, has white frost, if not a layer of snow on it. I see fields which were once water logged, they still remain water logged, but now the water has turned to ice and formed iced over ponds. Sheep stand like statues, their heads down and their thick woollen coats with a dusting of frost. Heads down they still seek a morsel of grass to eat. At this moment in time their coats are the most valuable thing in this world. I noticed, When boarding the train the guard announcement. Passengers should close windows wherever they saw them open and keep doors closed. I don't think anyone is stupid enough to let a window be left open. For at 6 a.m. this morning it was minus 9 in Newcastle. The train had been cold travelling down to London. Air conditioning and heating were turned up full. It felt pretty warm to me. I took my jumper off shortly after sitting down. Now two hours into the journey it is on again. I can feel a draught. We hit York. The platforms are nearly deserted, a few hardy travellers huddled on the platforms close together, they must of just came out of a waiting room. Slowly the train comes to a stop and the people head for doors.
I think we've had it easy weather wise this winter, it was always on the cards, if Chrimbo was mild then the chill would be delayed to January come February time. The way the weather has changed has been helpful. It's been slow and given everyone an opportunity to adapt to it. Physically I feel prepared for it, unlike going into winter and the sudden decent into radically cold temperatures. You can never be prepared for that kind of change. Or maybe I just say this because the seat is warm and it is easy to comment when all you have to do is be docile for 5 hours, make no effort to do anything else than just enjoy the journey. Looking out of a window and wondering at what temperature does frost begin, how beautiful it is to see every bare tree branch grow it's own white hair of age, they look brittle, delicate and exposed. The landscape takes an altogether cheerful, white bright appearance, as the normal dull, dark ploughed fields are masked. Solitary birds venture to fly, how they must feel the chill. Scotland, I'll see you soon, jumper, coat and a goatee beard I'm prepared. And Sparkling the biggest hug in the world has your name on it.
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