Another way of saying I just couldn’t be bothered! As many of my readers will know, I sometimes go through these phases of not being interested or not being bothered about things. Saturday was one such day though I have to be honest and say it happens a lot more often these days than it used to. It was such a lovely day on Saturday, brilliant sunshine and blue skies, the kind of day that beckons you to be outside. I had deliberately stayed in bed longer than I normally do, I just didn’t want to get up. I wasn’t that tired but there was nothing really desperate to get up for. However, as I sleep with my curtains left open I could see the clear blue sky and a few fluffy clouds and I just had to get up. Before I could do anything I noticed some movement in the garden and was stopped in my tracks. There were two wood pigeons waddling along the path totally oblivious to the squirrel following them. They continued along unaffected whilst the squirrel hopped here and there searching amongst the shrubbery and plants. Eventually the squirrel disappeared and I got on with what I had to do. By the time I had finished getting dressed and applying my make-up my phone rang. It was someone asking if I could do some work for them on Monday. I wrote down the details and went downstairs ready to go out. I skipped breakfast as by this time it was eleven o’clock. I locked up the house and I walked to the train station. I had just missed the train but another came along fifteen minutes later and I climbed aboard. I was on my way to Liverpool for a spell. I had almost forgotten that it was Saturday.
The train carriage was packed with people, most of them going into the city themselves. I don’t usually travel to Liverpool on the weekend because the trains are often full whereas during the week they aren’t at these off-peak times. I spent only an hour there but got so bored I decided to return for home, maybe stopping off or taking a detour to the pub for an hour or so. By the time I reached my station I found I couldn’t be bothered with a pub visit so I walked home instead. The journey home on the train was a little irritating as a guy sitting behind me was chatting continuously on his phone for the whole forty minute duration never stopping for a minute. Why can’t people just sit quietly once in a while? A woman about my age or slightly younger came on board with her two grandchildren (I learned later when chatting with her), one, a boy about eight years old and the other a girl whom I was told was five. The boy was very well-behaved, even letting his little sister sit on his knee. I could tell he was fond of her. She however was a proper little madam and a little cheeky too. I was teasing her during my conversation with her grandmother. They were being taken to Southport for a few hours whilst the sun was shining. I left the train and walked home to an empty house. E had gone out to her monthly meeting with her group. They meet on the third Saturday of each month. She had gone out prior to me leaving the house, in fact prior to my coming downstairs earlier. Evidently she had been visiting her mom but she must have returned home for her lunch whilst I was out before then driving off to her meeting. I had thought about walking to the pub after I’d had something to eat but I found my heart wasn’t in it.