It was a bit daunting when my supervisor and I arrived at the Conference yesterday. For a start, there were many more people than we had been led to expect would be there to listen to us. And then we couldn't find anyone we recognised. Worst of all, they didn't appear to be expecting us. Were we at the wrong venue and if we were, where the bloody hell were we supposed to be?
The answer to that last question turned out to be 'Downstairs.' Right place, wrong conference. We nearly found ourselves addressing the Autistic Society's A.G.M.
I do maintain that it is the kind of thing that could happen to anyone. (?)
(The rest of the day was a success.)
Closer
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I prepared a Sunday roast feast today. We had to extend out Victorian pine
table by adding an old drop leaf table from the greenhouse. It worked out
fine...
17 hours ago
5 comments:
I always wondered what they used all those big fat coloured pens for at bingo...
oops commented on the wrong post - but then if you will blog 2 at once.
Check out Gill's blog everyone for big fat coloured pencil look alike things!They are scary though.
And I am just so prolific as a writer aren't I Gill? :-)
Just under twenty years ago I was inter-railing on a football trip, mainly around Germany. I had six hours to kill in Nurenberg. (Remember I'm now a sober alcoholic, in those days I liked a drink!) I decided to go on a 'pub crawl' around town, and the third one I went in I was given a drink & not asked to pay for it. Same with the next one... I realised I was getting some strange looks. I'd 'gatecrashed' a wedding! Oops, private party. someone came up to me & spoke in German. Sorry, I'm English. They explained it was a wedding, for guest only, I apologised, and they laughed. They offered me another drink before I went on my way. And, to top it all, it was a Greek wedding, and they let me smash some plates!
The next bar I went into, I ordered a beer. Paid for it, and some bloke next to me spoke in English. He talked football, and apologised for his 'poor English'. He had been to London in 1968, and loved it, & had even seen a game at White Hart Lane. I didn't move onto another bar, until my early morning train. Helped by the fact he insisted on paying for all the drinks, so that he could practice his English!
Fatalist - that sounds like a day to remember - and I am very impressed you have any memory of it whatsoever!
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