Limbo

I know I'm in Limbo, caught between two shores, two lives, because I watched three episodes of 'Holmes on Homes' yesterday. I used to do this before, I'd watch 'Cold Squad', 'DaVinci's Inquest' and 'Trailer Park Boys' on a continual loop on the smaller cable channels. When I'm in Canada I have to watch British TV programmes. I even used to watch the one on a Friday evening where a compliant and oh so British Ashley Hames suffered the humiliation of having things stuck up his bottom and hot wax dripped on his chest just to see what it's like. He'd always get very drunk and throw up and he'd always get blown off whenever he tried to pick up even the most skanky women. Such a Brit.

Austen has me looking at postboxes, the old red ones. I had never noticed before that they have the intial of the King or Queen who was reigning when they were made on the front. Near to the house, there is a post box with 'EVIIR' on it, much nicer than that of course, in swirly writing. Most of the postboxes have EII on them, the present queen, but this is clearly a post box from the reign of Edward the seventh. On the corner of Wilfred street in Woking, I noticed a postbox with 'VR' on it, 'Victoria Regina'. This must have been one of the very first, I'm sure that the 'penny post' was introduced during Victoria's reign, maybe while she was out visiting British Columbia.

I myself have me looking at pavements. Since an unpleasant towing experience due to being parked too close to a fire hydrant in Vancouver, I have been wondering why we don't have them in Britain. There are all sorts of little covers set in the ground, gas, electricity, 'Post Office Telephones' - this from the days when the Post Office did indeed run the phone service. Many covers that say 'CATV' - these seem far too old to simply mean Cable TV, but who knows. Finally I found one that just said 'FH'. But in a distance of about a mile, and I was paying stupidly close attention, I only saw two of these, so I feel that the mystery is only half solved.

Yesterday I came down to Portsmouth on a reluctant train. I boarded it even though it threatened to stop at every small station on the way down, I even ignored the advice of the guard when we got to Haslemere and an announcement encouraged us to cross the platform to get a faster train. The faster train looked pretty crowded and I could see a harrassed looking woman dispensing drinks from the bar, no doubt commuters like to start their evening's relaxation on British Rail. I chose to sit in splendid isolation and read my book.
There is a sign on South West trains that always amuses me. It says 'Toilets' with an arrow. It also has the pretty international figures of a woman and a man standing side by side, then there is a baby. The baby is huge and it resembles an egg wearing a nappy with big salami arms and legs sticking out horizontal to its body. It makes me think of a couple who have a cuckoo baby, bigger than them, the only place they can toilet it is on British Rail.

Now I'm watching CBeebies, all the old favourites from when my children were little are still on TV but upgraded to look more real. Postman Pat, Fireman Sam. I haven't yet seen Thomas the Tank Engine, but I'm sure he's on. There's an educational programme for small children, the presenters are just like the younger people in teaching, I can place them all in a classroom, remember the exaggerated hand and body movements myself. The continuity music is Bhangra, Bollywood music, and how perfect it is, every few beats punctuated by the hands going up in the air.

Limbo in the previous limbo time was always easier for me than for Kevin. The majority of his job is concentration, thinking about the problem in hand. Anything that requires thought allows for brooding. The major part of my job was in your face, full on, no time for thinking. Now, I'm here with my grandchildren, so once again it's easier for me, limbo's more fun when there's distraction.

I'm off to visit Gabriel, not the archangel, although nothing would surprise me in this city, my dentist. No limbo here, as far as the National Health Service is concerned, I'm still British.