Rambling along (20).

Imagine stepping into a room, vast like the concourse of a major, yet mythical, railway terminal, which is full of papers swirling and falling, flying and drifting – as if bewitched by an invisible wind. Imagine the sunlight streaming in through windows so high that they seem like dreams. What would you do? Shut the door I guess, just in case it was oneself that had caused the draught and set a thousand carefully stacked papers randomly cascading. Either that, or grab a handful and with the blessing of the Head Archivist  -whose job it is to tame the Turbulent Chambers as they are now known – set off on a long ramble homewards as the autumn infiltrates. And as I ramble along I’ll read a few of these tumbling missives that come from An Archive Past. Oh, and stick some photos of a recent walk in London Town. This is what is happening at the moment here on Bitsnbobs, and which has been previously explained here.

There’s a party here tonight.

The youth are coming.

And when I say coming I mean …… this has been posted on Facebook!

Some of them have been testing the sound system for the last 24 hours. The people in the next village are not going to be happy.

I’ve hidden my chocolate and arranged to sleep at a friend’s house in the mountains.

The party celebrates my wife’s son’s girlfriend’s 18^th.

Ok MY son too.

We asked her what she wanted for her birthday, she replied ‘a surprise party’ –that’s why it’s been put on Facebook I guess.

We invited her dad, who is coming with his girlfriend and we invited her mum and her boyfriend, who informs us that her mum, his lover, probably won’t come because she’s angry with her husband – my son’s girlfriend’s dad – because she wanted to be with her daughter, his too, on her(daugther)’s birthday which isn’t today in fact but tomorrow when she(the daughter) will be completely wasted and 18 anyway, old enough to ignore what mum or dad says.

After that her mum and baggage will probably turn up anyway.

It should be fun.

I can't wait.

Not.