Home decoration adverts
B&Q, retailers of mid-range kitchens and other goods are advertising their sale on TV, as many such companies do at times.
So, a mainstream retailer that probably sells to the average consumer… advertising using a mansion than hardly anyone could afford to live in. I assume it’s a mansion, as the kitchen is larger than some London flats, and the bedroom was probably large enough to have its size measured as a percentage of a football pitch.
Dear high-street retailers, please use high-street consumer sized houses for your TV adverts. Thanks.
There is something oddly rewarding about going out for a walk in the cold wet winery weather. The hunched neck and clenched eyes to protect you from the biting wind. And yet, I love it. I could have gone out to the shops yesterday by the short route, but deliberately took my preferred longer route, that exposed me to winter for a full hour instead.
But, oh the joys when you get home and stamp the rain off your feet and coat and shiver in delight at the blast of warmth. Then a hot cup of coffee and some nibbles as a reward.
Some people prefer walking in the summer, but give me the self-inflicted torture of a winter walk any day.
I was waiting for a – delayed – train at the fairly small Loughborough Junction station this morning. It’s a curious little station as it is beside three main lines, but only one of them stops there. Two used to, but the second has long since stopped doing so, and the third line is 20 yards away. It should be a major junction, but isn’t.
Anyway, around the corner came a train, at the time the delayed train was expected, and I thought it seemed to be taking that curve unusually fast. Actually, exceptionally fast.
In fact, it roared through the platform at an alarming speed. So much so that I genuinely was concerned that it was going to crash.
Now, a fast train is no unusual sight, but this is a very small station with quite narrow platforms and even trains passing through tend to do so at a sedate pace.
What made it dangerous and scary though was not that there had been a tannoy announcement to stand back from the edge — but that the tannoy was actually saying the opposite, and declaring the racing monster bearing down on us to be stopping here.
Instinctively I knew that had it been intending to apply brakes at that speed, you’d not be reading this blog post tonight, and a railway disaster would be leading the evening news.
I’m not given to hyperbole, and take scary moments in my stride, but that was not nice.