Through the rain

Ghastly. Simply ghastly. If I was posh, that is exactly how I would describe this morning. The sky was completely smothered in threatening, thick, dark grey clouds, hanging ominously over the climb up High Common Road. It had been a rough, uneven, sleep with hail battering off the window late into the night after the stormy winds and rain from the evening had subsided briefly for a few hours. Driving into Glasgow, to drop Ka and Chris off in the late afternoon, the steering wheel was almost pulled from my grip by the horrendous gales going over the M77.
It was John Barrowman time again, and Ka and Chris were heading into town for the latest hometown gig by the singing superstar. They were meeting up with Jillian and her Mum, Jean, for dinner on Sauchiehall Street before heading down to the Armadillo.
While the girls were out on the town, I was creating a brand new website for DJ, William Rae.
William is our friend Claire's brother, just back from Puerto Rico where he, along with his wife and daughter, had been living for the past year or so. Before he had departed for sunnier shores I had designed and created his last website for his DJ'ing and, now that he was back in cloudy Scotland, fancied a redesign and a new look, especially since the last version had been very much beach party orientated.
As lovely as Ayr beach is, I can’t imagine a jostling crowd of dancers supping the cocktails and living it up down there on a balmy evening.
Just as I was making the final touches to his wondrous new website, the mobile started ringing. It was Ka insisting that they were just about to miss their last train home. They knew this even though they were standing outside the Armadillo, after a good few sherries, with at least twenty minutes before the afore said train was due. Being the gentleman, of course, I agreed to head back into town to pick them up. Thankfully the rain and storms had abated on my way in and although I got stopped by what must have been 90% of the red lights on my journey into Glasgow, I made it to the Mint Hotel, within around half an hour. As I sat parked in the bus stop immediately outside the Mint Hotel, pondering who gave the hotel this illustrious title, I spotted a shimmer of silver in my rear view mirror. A vision of silver excitedly jumping up the street. Jillian, in a silver shimmering sequins dress was running up the pavement towards the car, a massive grin on her face. The Barrowman grin. She was farting glitter with excitement, apparently.
Upon leaving my position behind the wheel Jillian gave me a big shimmery hug. Personally I think Jillian was sent out to sweeten me up as, moments later, Ka and Chris appeared at the hotel’s front entrance, looking a little meek, tired, but happy. Barrowman had worn them out with his dazzling array of sparkly suits and anthemic classics. Classics such as Manilow’s “I made it through the rain”, Gaynor’s “I am what I am” and The Village People’s “YMCA” (I think I remember dancing to that at the school formal… no wonder I didn’t get a lumber).
It wasn’t until 1am last night, after safely delivering Chris home, and leaving Ka in the living room to have a nice cup of tea, that I sent through the first draft of DJ William’s website. It was one of those jobs that I thought would take me hours but, in fact, took me days. Once again I find myself inadvertently selling myself cheap.
Not that I often sell myself cheap.
I’m sure someone would pay a hefty sum for me if I was on the market. I just wouldn’t get ‘Your Maneuver’ to sell me.
Anyway, I went to bed later as a result of the late night web building, making my sleep uneasy. My brain wouldn’t switch off and the volume of the living room telly hadn’t been turned down much.
I woke up around half two, dazed and vaguely confused. The other half of the bed was still empty and I could still hear the television from the other room. Crawling out of bed I went through to the living and found Ka curled up on the couch, fast asleep. The bright, vibrant colours of some form of late night childrens' television beamed from the box in the darkened living room around her, it's wild moving shapes flickering over her face as she slept.
Why childrens’ tv was on at that time of night, I’ll never know. Is childrens’ tv on 24 hours a day now?

I know it now has it’s own channels, and Ed the duck in the broom cupboard between half three and half five in the evenings is long gone, but do they have to continually operate? Can’t they be like some of those other digital channels and only operate at certain times?
It also begs the question of what had Ka been watching?
The last music I’d heard drifting in from the living room, before I fell asleep, had been the doleful melodiousness of Emmerdale. That gawd awful tune that informs you it’s now time to either gain control of the remote and change the channel or run for your god forsaken life to the nearest open window and paint the pavement down below your, hopefully, high rise flat a new colour of brain.
As I moved to switch the tv off, my foot stood on half a cornetto wrapping that had been discarded on the carpet. A half eaten crisp then crunched under my other foot as I then noticed Ka’s glass and plate lying empty on the coffee table.
The John Barrowman gig had obviously taken it's toll on the poor girl. Not only was she now curled up, having conked out on the couch but she had neglected to tidy up after herself and had even dropped a cornetto paper on the carpet and a single, rogue, crisp.
Once the tv was off I decided against interrupting Ka’s slumber, knowing full well of the repercussions, and wandered back off to bed.
She eventually fell on to the mattress at around half four, whilst the rain pelted down outside, the clock continuing it’s ticking around to the inevitable black, winter, Friday morning.
On the radio, in the car, on my way into work, there were people wishing each other ‘Happy Christmas’.
People calling in to give their relations festive wishes.
Okay, there’s only a month to go now but, come on!
Wait until you open the first door of your chocolate calendar at least.
After making this mental complaint, I then went into work and started some online Christmas shopping.
Well, you’ve got to start at some point.