Walk with the Trolly

 on my way home from work on Thursday on a nice sunny day I was walking up the incline pulling my little red trolly behind me.

Approaching from the opposite direction was a woman pushing a black trolly.

As we got closer we made eye contact and smiled in trolly sisterhood.

As we met and a half step past we each without any prompting but in perfect synchronisation stopped half turned to each other and had a happy little conversation about the merits of the trolly. 

Her black trolly was new and sans the annoying Velcro of her old one, and could be pushed as well as pulled so she was trying out pushing.

I noted I had added buttons and a loop to mine to stop the flap flapping in the way. 

We both grinned, said gotta love a trolly, wished each other a nice day and parted ways.

Made me smile all the way home, whilst not quite on a level with the bus friends of old it was nice to connect with someone on my work journey.

I got a letter

 from someone I used to work with. From someone who used to travel in on the bus but from the opposite direction. He would arrive on the bus going in the direction I would get to go home and visa versa.

Some mornings we would arrive at a similar time and share the escalator ride and last little bit of a walk into work and the lift up to our floor.

He tells me he misses those travel related chats, misses the blog, I did not realise he read it! But then not everyone leaves comments even if they visit on purpose and not due to a search engine accident.

I had thought there might have been the occasional bus trip into the new  official office, but then it has been undergoing refurbishment and no one has been allowed in during that.

So still most of my travel simply consists of walking down the stairs and quite often my mug is telling the truth.

The rest of time it is the walk down to and past the bus station to the more local secondary office accompanied by my red trolly.  I have been prompted by that letter to look anew at this somewhat neglected blog and think of all those other people who have featured here. Starting with Peter and Paul and the Blind Man, The purple Coated ladies, the Shop Girls and in particular the shoe lady. The Author,The commuting baby with her bunny that I saw no more once day care became nursery school. Matilda / Madeline her dad and then little brother. My workmate John, with his magic bus calling cigarettes, sadly no longer with us..  All moments shared, and past and gone.  

Coming down the stairs is so much easier and convenient, but its not making memories and certainly not  providing much fodder for this blog.