Wednesday, October 28

Nangle Natters: Wonder full

- December 6, 2016

mary_kytson_lady_darcy

The other day I was sitting on a train – that was running on time! – on my way to Horsham to meet my aunt for lunch. We do this from time to time – she gets her hair done and then we meet up and catch up before having a quick wander around the shops and then a slap up lunch. It was that horrid torrential rainy weekend, so I was wrapped up warm with a waterproof anorak and my nice big scarf. You know the kind of thing, where you tuck it into your jacket and then zip the jacket up and end up with a chest that would do Bluto from spinach-eating cartoon ‘Popeye’ proud.

Anyway, I started settling in to a bit of food fantasy about what I might be eating for lunch, and was surprised to find that the first thing I thought of was how much gravy I might spill on my scarf if I wasn’t careful. It’s like wrapping up warm also provided me with a bib. Which set my mind to thinking… Firstly; I’d better take my scarf off when I arrive at the restaurant – my mama didn’t raise no messy fool. And secondly; what kind of a state did Elizabethan ruffs get into back in the day?! Those Tudors and the like were not known for holding back – just look at Elizabeth’s dad, Henry VIII!

Firstly: I’d better take my scarf off when I arrive at the restaurant

Not that I’m knocking a bit of decadence, but with their reputed aversion to frequent washing too, those ruffs must’ve been in a right state! Either that or they had the steadiest soup spoons in the land.

Now, I’ve done no research into this whatsoever, but can I just share how much fun I had for five minutes expanding and questioning my time-travelling daydream. I was gazing out of the window, watching the world flash by, occasionally getting disproportionately happy about spotting a cow or some other livestock in a field, and my mind wandered. Which was a treat I’d forgotten about.

Usually I have a book, I have a phone, I have a friend to talk to – I don’t know about you but I am spoilt for choice when it comes to a bit of brain stimulus. When I get ill my marker for when I’m starting to get better is when I get to the point of being bored. It means my brain wants to go outside again. But I would like to endorse wholeheartedly the wonders of wondering. It can be such ridiculous fun.


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