Please, Mr Mercury...

Does anybody know whether Mercury is going in the right direction yet?

I had to go over to Nigel’s place today on some tax return business, so I made an arrangement with my daughter to meet her for coffee in the city centre. I haven’t seen her for over a year, so I thought it was about time I did. I got there at the appointed time and waited for an hour, but she didn’t turn up. And she’s so poor she doesn’t have a mobile phone, so I couldn’t even call or text to find out why. It saved me the cost of two coffees I suppose, but that isn’t really the point, is it?

I headed homeward just as the rain was starting to fall. And then the windscreen wipers began to play up. At first it was just an interruption to the intermittent wipe, but then they wouldn’t turn off at all, so I had to drive twenty five miles home with the wipers going.

And while I was feeling more than a little irritated by yet another electronics malfunction, I missed two calls from Mel on my mobile (because it’s both dangerous and illegal to use a hand-held mobile while driving.) Her voice mail said she wouldn’t be available to talk again until Sunday.

And just to add insult to injury, I bought a different kind of vegetable pasty from a different bake shop in the city centre. It was disgusting – full of some lurid orange paste that tasted of nothing but chemicals.

You can’t blame me for wondering whether this is all a cunning plan to keep me both rattled and unable to communicate with the people I want to talk to, can you? So don’t.

I think I’ll post some pictures of my garden next. They’re not very good, but at least they’re grounded in the relative sanity of the Shire where Mercury’s influence appears to be subdued – so far.