It’s been dawning on me a while.

It started with finding Radio Four interesting to listen to and learn from, rather than being boring due to lack of music. And finding listening to it, coupled with a spot of crochet, a very relaxing way to pass some time.

Then on Coronation Street a few weeks back Haley told Roy she could imagine him driving down the country roads with The Archers blaring out (Coronation Street being a terrible UK soap that, yes, I’m sorry but if it’s on when I’m on the sofa, I watch.  Roy is the least cool person in the world – a 50 ish kind of bloke with a deep interest in steam trains).  This coincided with the discovery, to my joy, that The Archers is on at just the time that I’m driving to yoga.  Through the country roads…

But then it happened.  This weekend I think the last little shred of coolness in me shrivelled up and died (not that there was ever very much there in the first place, to be honest).

One of the things on my ridiculously long to do list was to cut down the two buddleia trees in my front garden so I grabbed my pruning shears and ipod and got out there.  I decided some 80’s music was needed to speed up the pruning and picked Neneh Cherry; I actually own her ‘Raw like Sushi’ album.  It’s not something that should be admitted to really.

Being sensible, I’d changed into clothes old enough to garden in.  Hoodie, tracksuit bottoms, and Crocs.  Shoes that should not be worn in public.  So it was dressed like this, while attempting to rap along with Neneh, doing a few little moves between cutting down the trees that a neighbour tapped me on the shoulder.  Amazingly, he wasn’t threatening to call the police for causing some sort of public disorder offence, he wanted to tell me that there was ‘a giant bird, possibly an eagle, pulling a pigeon apart in his back garden’.  I went to look.  It was a buzzard, rather than an eagle (!) but was still impressive.  Unlike me.

However, I decided to embrace the death of my coolness (that’s probably not even the right word to use these days) and when I’d filled 12 sacks with the bits of garden I’d destroyed I drove to the tip (could I sound anymore middle aged?).  With the Pet Shop Boys blaring from my stereo.

I’d better go now.  It’s yoga night and I don’t want to miss the start of the Archers :o)

cool Bumpkinsville cat