The Bag Lady

So, I've been on this mission. To try and make local friends of the 'desi' variety. It's a mission born out of much thought and deliberation - a whole four years' worth. The background is too tedious to recount, so I'll cut to the chase. 

This morning, I got into the bus at my usual stop, and I spotted the only empty seat, next to this girl I've seen on the bus before. She is most definitely from the subcontinent, and, most likely, Indian. I went over and thought, "this is good - finding a seat and seizing an opportunity to make a new friend - well done me!". I smiled warmly and she did smile back - great start. She began to look away, outside the window. I was killing myself trying to think of something to say to break the ice and then I spotted the perfect pretext to chat. She was carrying a beautiful dark red leather bag - the one I've known to be available in handicraft shops or the likes of Delhi and Calcutta; the ones printed with flowers or a pattern of some sort, with contrasting colours. It did look absolutely lovely.

The conversation went something like this:

Me (Saying): That's a beautiful bag you have there

Girl (Saying): Thank you, it is from Australia".

Me (Thinking): Score! We have Australia in common! This is going remarkably well! 

Me (Saying): Wow - it really is lovely!

Girl (Half-smiling, turning to look outside the window, and probably thinking):  I love my bag. I am so cool.

Me (Thinking): Uh oh! She's probably a woman of few words. She didn't say anything further so there go my chances of Australia bonding.

Me (Saying): Erm....did you buy it here or online, or in Australia?

Girl (Not smiling and saying): No. It was a gift from Australia.

She then proceeded to clutch her bag really tight and physically turn to the window to reinforce the message. I was left feeling like a right numpty! 

Girl (Probably thinking): That'll teach me to smile at strangers!

Dinner at the Lonely Hearts Club

It's almost a ritual. 

When I know Dot is going to be away, I make fanciful plans for what food experiments I am going to conduct. These experiments are much easier to conduct when you're not thinking about the central reason why all food should be eaten - to satisfy hunger; as is the case every evening when we get home from work. Also, he does lab-test all my endeavours for me, but it just seems unfair to keep subjecting him to it. So when I learn of Dot's impending  travel, my chef brain goes into overdrive. Elaborate lists are made in preparation for evenings filled with mixing, baking, tasting, etc. 

I also make very grand plans for how much housework I am going to achieve when I get home from work. Indexing bills, restoring civilsation to the wardrobe, bleach-scrubbing bathroom grout, ....you know, things that you would like to do (or wish they got done by themselves somehow) to validate your domestic goddess status. I like to have it all, thank you very much.

And yet, it happens every single time. 

I spend every evening he is away, horizontal on the couch, watching reality TV dross, eating....wait for it........instant noodles. I fall asleep dressed in the same clothes I went to work in, wake up at 1am or thereabouts with a crick in my neck, drag myself upstairs, change (sometimes) and get into bed to continue the sleeping. 

Rinse, repeat. 

I really must miss him.