Birds of a Feather Flock Together

You would think that after this long Robbie's capacity to surprise me would have diminished considerably, but you would be wrong! The other day he read out a comment that he had made on the facebook status of one of his friends, it didn't make much sense to me but that wasn't a surprise, train spotters (sorry I mean railway enthusiasts!) seem to talk to each other in code most of the time. The comment in question was about hiding a pair of trainers under the bed, that seemed relatively normal to me compared to some of the things that are hidden under our bed, but Robbie seemed to find it funny. Eventually he explained that his friend was a trainer collector and he had to hide new purchases because they were taking over the house. It still didn't seem very funny to me, after all I spend my life tripping over Dr Marten boots with a few pairs of Converse thrown in for good measure. I pointed out that people who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, but that just made him fold his arms and stick out his lower lip.


That little incident set me thinking, Robbie knows some 'interesting' people including a plane spotter, an escalator spotter, a roundabout spotter (the road type not the fairground ride), several bus spotters, a couple of closet milk float spotters and a whole legion of train spotters. Then there are the obsessive collectors, some collect train parts or railway related stuff, there is the trainer collector and various other hoarders. Robbie collects railway books, magazines, model railway stuff, cuff links, ties, pens, stationary - and that is only the things that I am prepared to admit to in public. The big question is where does he meet all these people? Hoarders anonymous perhaps or maybe there is a social networking site for extreme spotters or possibly they have some sort of secret handshake like the masons. One things is certain, when it comes to the weird and the wonderful, birds of a feather flock together!

The Way To His Heart

This week has been difficult for both of us; for me because all my attention has been taken up with a DLA renewal application for a family member, for Robbie because he is very busy at work and he is in so much pain from his back and legs that coping with everyday life is almost impossible. I was so worried about him on Thursday evening because he could hardly move, but Robbie being Robbie, he wasn't going to give in. It took a superhuman effort, but he headed off to work bright and early on Friday morning.

The weekend could so easily have been a disaster, Robbie was in pain and frustrated because it was stopping him from doing most of the things he wanted to do. We were in no hurry to get moving on Saturday, but Robbie decided that if he had to miss out on some of his usual weekend activities he wanted to ride on trains instead. So at midday we were at the station ready to catch the 12.17 to Birmingham, there was just one problem - it was cancelled! I'm not sure if was that or the tepid coffee that upset Robbie most, but I was treated to one of his rants. He soon calmed down and before long we we were heading to Birmingham on a blue train and Robbie got his favourite seat, so he was happy again.

I suggested that we should have a look at some of Robbie's favourite shops in Birmingham. It was very brave of me because I don't cope very well with crowds and I am not keen on Birmingham, but I wanted him to have a nice day. We went to the Ian Allan bookshop, a record shop and lots of shoe shops because Robbie had his eye on some new trainers. I saw the most amazing pair of Dr Marten boots in Cloggs - I want them so badly but they are too tight across my foot where the lace up bit starts. Robbie bought himself an Animal T shirt and I bought him what he refers to as 'railway porn' - a Quail map (a book of track maps).

There was a loud and very scary parade on New Street. I couldn't see much because of the crowds, but there was a dragon and some dancers and a whole gang of men in kilts making an excruciating noise with bagpipes. I had to go and hide in The Works until it was all over - I bought a couple of books in there too. Robbie wanted to have a coffee in Costa before we went home, it was a bad decision, it was crowded and far too noisy so neither of us enjoyed it, but I guess it prepared us for the journey home, some football fans decided to serenade us and they kept up their chanting all the way to Rugby. If that wasn't bad enough the moron in front decided that the whole train had to listen to his music, it made me feel quite violent. Surprisingly Robbie was quite chilled he was in his own little world, lost in the detail of his Quail map! It was worth making the effort, we had a really good time despite the wild men with bagpipes and the problems on the train.

An Uplifting Experience! 05.06.07

Robbie said that he got teased so much because of yesterday's entry in the blog that he deserves a bit of time off tonight so I have had instructions to entertain readers with another account of my experiences at work, but more of that later. I have to just mention that Robbie is sitting here in his PJ's rambling on and on about the layout of Padstow station c1920 and why they needed a turntable. It is my own fault I shouldn't have left the Branch Line to Padstow book on the bed.

Sam announced that he wants some Van's trainers. He stressed that they have to be Vans because no other brand will go with the laces he has bought! He and Robbie are so alike sometimes.

Right then, back to the account of my experiences at work. In my previous job I had to take my turn 'on call' to deal with emergencies that occurred out of hours. The residents knew that it was really for housing related emergencies, but over the years I encountered a variety of very creative 'emergencies' and I develop a diverse knowledge because advice was sought on everything from budgies to bowels, so there was very little that genuinely surprised me.

It was Boxing Day and I was on call. I was contacted by a resident who was clearly in some discomfort. Apparently he was at a loose end and for no logical reason this fifty year old man had overdosed on someone else's viagra tablets. The inevitable occurred and he was unable to rid himself of the 'evidence' so for reasons best known to him he contacted me for help. I am not sure what he expected me to do about it. I advised him that it was well beyond my job description and if he was worried he should seek medical help. However I happened to know that the 'cure' recommended for the effects of viagra is a pack of frozen peas applied to the swollen area. He said that he would try it, but he phoned several more times to update me on progress, or to be more accurate his lack of progress. I tried to be tolerant, but it really was not my responsibility and I had told the man how to access medical help. He rang yet again (and interrupted my meal) to report that problem had not diminished at all. I advised him that time would resolve the problem, but until then he would have somewhere to hang his hat! He didn't phone again. He survived unscathed, but hopefully a little wiser!