Rain, ice, stress and a road works poem

28 – 31 January 2015

It was a typical wet, windy Wednesday so I left extra early to catch the bus across the Big Bridge.  Normally catching the bus would give me more time, not less, but the road works on the bridge and consequent traffic jams mean going anywhere on the road at the moment is a long winded, frustrating business. Still, I have a free bus ticket and I did get to say hello to the swans on the bend by the boardwalk as I marched past. Despite the leaving early I barely made it to the office on time. A journey that takes me thirty minutes or so on foot took nearly an hour on the bus.

The council have a lot to answer for in my opinion. Often the site is deserted, on a good day there are three, maybe four workmen. Generally they just stand around chatting.  Their most strenuous activity seems to be the scratching of backsides or heads. Once when I passed the single workman on the job was asleep in the cab of his digger. Maybe I need to become a council workman.

Arriving late meant I started the day on the Blackfoot and never really got organised. My day was mostly spent in a meeting, followed by sorting out the mess the meeting was about. As this was not a mess of my making it was a frustrating sort of day.  Of course, my own work went by the wayside.  Then, amongst all the shouty calls, the emails and letters full of swear words and threats we got a poem. It was passed around the office like wildfire and put the smiles back on everyone’s faces. Obviously, I can’t share it with you but I’ve created my own, in the spirit of the original based on my morning journey to work. Ok, so I won’t be giving up the day job.

Now this is the story all about how,
I’m stranded at a bus stop in Southampton right now.
And I’d like to take a minute, just sit right there,
I’ll tell you how I became a princess not going anywhere.

In the south of England I was born and raised
On the bus stop is where I’m spending rainy days.
Freezing and waiting, frustrated in the rain
‘Cause the number eighteen is late again.

When a couple of buses came towards the stop
I got all excited thinking on I would hop,
But the work on the bridge means they can’t get through.
Think I’ll write to the council see what they’re gunna do?

Seven cars and a cab between the bus and the stop
But none of them are moving, all the drivers in a strop.
Could have walked by now if it wasn’t for the rain,
The road works on the bridge are driving me insane.

Been waiting at this stop since seven or eight
But with all this traffic I’m gunna be late.
On the phone to my boss saying why I’m not there.
I’m a road works princess not going anywhere.

The afternoon brought sleety storms and I wasn’t looking forward to the walk home but, by the time I left the office, it had stopped. In the car park people were scraping the ice off their windscreens but the wet ground was unfrozen. My walk through the dark streets was more or less dry too which was a bonus. When I stepped onto the decking to go indoors though the slushy stuff had frozen into a lumpy  skating rink and I barely stayed on my feet. The evening news brought warnings of snow storms to come and I checked three times to make sure my Yak Trax were in my bag for the morning.

In the end it was dry and brightish on Thursday so the Yak Trax weren’t needed but at least I didn’t have to face the bus stop frustration for a second day. As I crossed Cobden Bridge I saw rowers on the river. They must have rowed up from the clubhouse on Northam Bridge. Admiring their dedication at such an early hour I stood and watched until they disappeared under the bridge.

Once they’d gone I stopped for a moment to take a picture of my favourite riverside building, trying to capture the way the water was reflected in the arched window above the doors. On the quayside a small, rather grubby yacht sported a for sale sign. As I marched on I wondered what it would be like to own a yacht and how hard it would be to learn to sail one. It’s nice to have dreams once in a while and, as a bonus, I could sail to work and avoid the bridge.

It was a busy day, mainly because we were two staff members down, one on holiday, the other sick. There were also two new staff members who needed training and watching. All in all it was a high pressure day but it flew past and not a single flake of snow fell anywhere in southern England. So much for weather warnings.

There was no snow on Friday either but it was cold, very cold. For a change I decded to walk to Cobden Bridge along the road that runs beside the river. There are moorings there and little glimpses of the bridge and the water between the fences and gates. It may have been a mistake because it was colder there than my usual route but I did stop to snap a couple of photos. The dilapidated blue boat shed I like so much was just a speck in the distance and the bridge a stream of slow moving traffic trying, unsuccesfully, to avoid the chaos at Northam.

My sick colleague was still not back at work which posed a bit of a problem. if she didn’t turn up on Saturday there’d be no one to open the office in the morning. Jess had taken a couple of days holiday and I was in charge. Decisions had to be made. A contingency plan was hastily concocted. I would come in early to open the office and Elaine would cover my late shift. It meant an early start and the first three quarters of an hour working on my own but it wouldn’ t be the first time. When I texted her, Jess was pleased I’d worked something out and she didn’t have to worry.

Getting up at five thirty wasn’t much fun but I was actually looking forward to the walk in. Back in the autum I covered the early Saturday shift for a couple of months and the calm quiet of the pre dawn walk more than made up for the early start. Unfortunately, this particular Saturday was not quite as calm or pleasant as I’d hoped. This was mainly down to ice. As soon as I stepped out of my gate it was obvious this was going to be a difficult walk. The pavements were glittering in the darkness. Outside my house both pavement and road were a sheet of ice. I skidded my way to the Main Road which was, thankfully, ice free.

Things weren’t  too bad for a while but, once I was off the main drag, there were more patches of ice. I picked my way carfully across them, hanging onto fences, lampposts and anything else I could find to avoid falling. Somehow I managed to stay on two feet, although I did get a splinter from one frantic fence grab. Progress was painfuly slow and difficult. The dark made seeing the ice before I slipped on it hard so I took tiny, tentative steps with my eyes on the pavement looking for tale tale glittering.

On the Middle of the bridge I stopped for a breather. It’s surprising how much energy walking on icy pavements takes. By this time there was a hint of  blue light on the horizon and a few house lights twinkled on the river. I stopped again on the other side where I could just about make out the shapes of the little boats in the gloom below.

Under the railway bridge I glanced at my watch and realised I’d be lucky to get to the office before seven, even though I left home just after six. There was no way to hurry though but at least there were lots of cars and walls to grab hold of on this stretch of the walk and it was beginning to get lighter so I could see the ground a little better. Despite the time I couldn’t help stopping when I reached the river again. There was a hint of pink on the horizon and the river looked like a painting, all midnight blues with highlights of orange. The yellow catamaran seem to glow.

Normally I arrive at work with enough time to spare to make a coffee and set my computer up. This Saturday I walked through the door as the clock clicked over to seven. There was no time for anything but dumping my bag on my desk before I dashed out to switch off the answer phone and, still taking off my coat, logged into my phone. Luckily no one called until I had my computer switched on.

Not long after the first of my Saturday team arrived we got news from the control office in Portsmouth that snow on top of ice was causing chaos and one service had had to cut the route short. Of course this meant a busy day on the phone and a lot of looking out of the window to see if the snow had reached us. Thankfully it never did. By mid morning things were back to normal in Portsmouth after rain washed away the snow and the rest of the day was full of the usual lost property calls, mostly phones and wallets.

Going in early meant my working week ended at five o’clock instead of seven.  It felt like it had been a long week. Thank goodness for three day weekends.