Ganesh (who is neither Sharon nor Altaf)

I was happy to see this statue of Ganesh, the elephant God of the absurd, as friend Dave and I entered an Indian Street food restaurant in Cheltenham. The day hadn't started well: my bus lost its side mirror near Painswick, owing to the many overhanging branches along the valley that bash against the sides of the double deckers. We'd had to wait 20 minutes for a mechanic to bring another one.

This delay was enough to make Dave suggest we change our lunchtime venue. I said No. He'd already suggested that we try to fit in breakfast, lunch, a cinema trip, and some shopping into the same day! As he now walks very slowly (he is 77) and doesn't eat much, I'd rejected that plan.

In the end, most of the day was taken up with booking a holiday for Dave. He has been badly affected by the closure of Thomas Cook travel agency: there was a woman there called Sharon, who surely ought to have worn a halo. She used to book everything for him, even his coach to Gatwick, and spend up to three hours per session with him. He can't understand why there are no more Sharons at the other agencies. Thomas Cook was VERY special.

We popped into Tui (another agency) to check the cost of a holiday to Bardolino, Italy. Dave wants to stay in the same hotel in the town that I stayed in in May. (It does have rave reviews, and I won't be there, so he's not actually stalking me!) We met a very nice young woman called Gabi (who is not Sharon) and she gave us a price, and Dave decided to go ahead, but to walk home first to get his other credit card. He will not take the bus.

For some reason, I encouraged this. It took us another half hour to walk to his home; ten minutes for me to give him advice on possibly selling his home (what am I now? an estate agent? I didn't even want to see upstairs, because of the horror of our mother's house and her forty years of hoarding). We walked back to the agency (another half hour). Gabi was leaving. Dave had been convinced that Sarah, the other agent, had been giving him sour looks earlier. I hadn't even noticed...

Reader, he booked the holiday with Sarah. The insurance is not sorted yet, because he takes about five holidays per year, and multi-trip might be cheaper. The extra luggage allowance is added, but alas, no coach tickets to Gatwick.

Then Sarah happened to mention that the former Thomas Cook was reopening as Hays Travel. Of course, we had to go and have a look. The premises were closed, and a recruitment notice posted, and also a sign saying it would reopen the following day. There was no Sharon.

In the middle of all of this, we managed to get to John Lewis ( ghastly layout, but my choice) and Lakeland, and have lunch in Bombay Company.

This restaurant visit was not a success. The maitre D' managed to upset Dave straight off by implying that his fellow restaurauteur, Altaf, from the restaurant that Dave usually frequents, "is not even Indian: his parents are from Kenya".

What a stupid thing to say! Dave whispered to me that he didn't like this place. To my eternal shame, I responded by telling him to "man up". I guess I was losing it by this point. The Bel Phoori starter was good, and I enjoyed my main course (fish curry) , but Dave only ate a little of his lamb, and refused a takeaway box. We couldn't manage coffee or dessert.

Then we left, and Dave told me how much he didn't like the place, and how he wouldn't go there again (I do think the Maitre d' was cocky, but Dave doesn't seem to see how his moods or behaviour affect others. It's a bit like being out with a child, sometimes, except that he dithers, too, and sees ill-will and dirty looks where I see none. Difficult).

Finally I caught the bus home. I really, really needed to be back in Stroud on time, because I was the keyholder for a venue where a new history course was starting that night. Time to put on another organiser's hat!

On the way, I pondered on the Sharons of this world, and how many people must have felt bereft by the closure of their their only trusted travel agency. I know I grieved when I lost my hairdresser of thirteen years (her premises closed, and I couldn't track her down) but I also knew I had to find another one, who turned out to be better. But I am relatively young, and trusting. The New can be exciting. Not every one can see things this way.

Certainly I'm no Sharon. I do try to buy the set books for elderly people on the courses I organise, and to track down items such as advent calendars with Bible verses, or Christmas cards with foxes on them (a la Little Britain), but I do get irritated when people keep asking me why they need to read the book, or whether the course venue is located before or after the traffic lights (I'm not a driver). I'm a stress-head, not a saint.

I wasn't going to blip this at all because, frankly, who cares about my day? But then I read the blip of November 6th by my sister TMLHereandThere, about her trip to the Botanical Gardens with Val, and thought, hmmm...
Irish Catholic upbringing, both of us!

Also, given my day, it seems fitting that Ganesh is the god of absurd situations. I have a statue of him on my kitchen windowsill. Not that he's an Irish Catholic, or I'm a Hindu. Everything just is what it is, and I need to remember that I can't laugh without breathing!

I am not blipping much at the moment because I'm incredibly busy.