I dreamed a dream... or did I?

Did I dream it, or did someone in authority say that bus passes for pensioners were 'unsustainable'? I think waging wars is unsustainable, but nobody listens to me...

I'm hoping I dreamt it, as sometimes I lie abed of a morning, with the Today programme on, and I can hear very odd things in that half awake state. I mean, they weren't odd when they left the radio, but by the time they enter my consciousness they can be odd.

If it's true, I'll be down protesting. I know where they live!

Lothian Buses keeps winning awards for things. I used to wonder why, but now I'm a fan. I'm always amazed at how calm, and even friendly and helpful, bus drivers generally are. One driver even thanked the passengers as they came on! I was reminded of this recently when a friend, who's just moved here, said how wonderful our buses and drivers were compared to London. And I believe it.

Also, I've had many communications with Lothian buses, and they (or a jobsworth who works there) always reply. My most recent query was about buses that appear on the bus trackers and then disappear into thin air just before they reach my stop. I had wondered if they had been abducted by aliens. They wrote a nice letter back saying that it probably wasn't that, but gave other, more mundane, possible reasons.

I generally travel with my iPod on, cocooned in a world free of coughs, sneezes, sniffs, cell phone conversations and yummy mummies complaining about their child's spelling problems.

But one day last week, sans iPod, an elderly lady, (ie older than me - much older), sat immediately in front. We were passing through a less than salubrious suburb. We gazed out of the window at a group of people who obviously had been out in the sun drinking all afternoon, and probably did that every afternoon, whether the sun was out or not - if you get my drift- and she turned to the window and said,

"Wasters."

I assumed she was addressing me, as there was nobody else nearby. So I agreed.

A bit further along she turned to the window again. I leaned forward, ready this time.

"My grandson's in a hole."

Thinking this followed on from the opening statement and he was perhaps involved with some unsavoury characters of the likes we had just passed, I ventured...

"Oh dear. I'm sorry, er, maybe he'll come right."

I didn't need to lean forward to hear the next exchange.

"He's DEID. Buried. Cancer."

"Oh."

We continued our three way 'conversation'- my new friend, the window and I - up the road. She'd turn to the window, wait till I leaned forward, and then speak.

"A thousand folk at his funeral."

"He was a clever lad."

"Lassies today have nae shame."

This was because several young lassies got on the bus in short shorts and those awful tights they wear with patterns cut out and midriffs bare.

The man behind was snoring.

I love my bus pass.

PS I'm off on holiday, so may need to back-blip. **Doggie blip alert**