Out paced at last

 Passengers on Northern Rail's 16.36 service from Kirby to Manchester last night had the honour of taking the last ever Pacer service. Introduced in the mid-80s, with a supposed 'stop-gap' life of up to 20 years, the damn things screeched, rattled and lurched along for 35 years before being put out of their (and our) misery.

The cross-pennine run from Halifax to Manchester Victoria on a Pacer was an endurance test for all senses - smell included (they had a definite 'wet dog' aroma to them), along with a bone rattling, teeth loosening vibration.

A very English garden, sorry

A rainy Wednesday in a week off during Covid lockdown with pre - booked (and paid for) entry to Harlow Carr Gardens. The drive there gave a chance to gawp at Golden Triangle mansions from Alwoodley to  Pannal and some greenery.
We arrived to find the obligatory queue and to be told that 'sorry', but we'd have to wait a bit longer as one of the two computers they used for book in had just crashed 'sorry'. This piece of middle class annoyance was given to us by Sarah - who was also 'sorry' about the weather and lack of cafe or gift shop. The queue moved, but Sarah' s sorryness was replaced by Vicki's, who though still sincere in her sorrow, seemed to be a bit more pinched and ill at ease with it. But not to worry, we were soon back into Sarah's sorrowful care as the queue nearly reached the door, the two running an apologetic relay. Then, lo, the miracle happened, the computer had rebooted and we were in. Sarah gave a little cheer and raised both arms in joyful salute as we entered the garden.
Then it started to rain. The woman on the computer, safe behind her Covid precaution spit screen (surely a first for genteel Harrogate) was also sorry about the wait, and the rain.
Sorry.

The new (ab)normal?

Yesterday evening, returning from his allotted daily exercise walk, my son came across two family groups. The first comprised of a mother and two small children, a boy and a girl. The second two adults, two children and a dog - walking free and not on a lead.
The groups were walking in opposite directions along a lane, while the humans kept the prescribed 2 meters apart, the dog ran towards the woman walking down the lane with her children. At which point my son realised that the girl was terrified of dogs - she appeared increasingly anxious and distressed as the dog drew closer and was clinging to her mum.
Noticing this, my son went forward, spoke to the dog and held its collar, then directed it back to its family.
In normal circumstances, this small act might have elicited some thanks, but not last night: both groups told him he needed to be stay 6 feet away. At which he turned and walked away, to the sound of the child's resumed crying.

The joy of angle grinding

I'm all for taking up a new hobby when you're in lockdown, but my neighbour's new found love for angle grinding the afternoon away is something I hope proves to be very short lived.

Al fresco dining

From the smell coming from next door, the neighbours' barbecue is going to consist of axle grease burgers.

Saturday night takeway

I met a man in our local takeaway this evening who was getting a bit arsey as his order was delayed by 10 minutes. The staff were snowed under with 'phone and Just Eat online orders. Then the thought struck me: what on earth did he have to rush for? In the 'new normal' 10 minutes wait for a curry in neither here nor there.

Double decker zone out

On my home on the bus the other night, I was a bit surprised when the driver didn't pull up for ky stop. He didn't get too far, as he then had to brake for standing traffic. 'I wanted that stop' I saId, to which he replied, 'Sorry, pal. I zoned out for a minute'.

That's 40-odd feet and 14 tonnes of hurtling forgetfulness.

Hard sell

Just asked a stallholder in Halifax Borough Market if he had a screen protector for my phone. He responded by telling me I should get a toughened glass one instead and immediately began attacking his own screen with a screwdriver. Funny place, Halifax...

Name on a Pacer

'John. Got some good news and some not-so-good news for you're

'What's the good bit?'

We've decided to name a train after you're

'Great stuff, but what's the bad?'

'It's a Pacer'

'Bugger'.