Be Bad…

The Launderette!

Last week the washing machine stopped washing, which posed no problem until all my clothes had been worn. I had to resort to my emergency underwear and was forced to wear a slightly formal shirt to work.

Apparently a new machine will be with us on Sunday, but today I was left with only one option…

It was just like EastEnders, but much less social – I didn’t hear any gossip at all.

On entry I made it incredibly clear that I was unsure of what to do, Dot Cotton just pointed me towards the machine and assumed I would be fine. Never assume.

I put my three pounds into the slot and stood back as the machine started to whirl. Dot came running over to ask what I was doing:

“Why haven’t you put your clothes in?”

A valid question, as the machine stated to fill with water I asked if it was too late to open it and put them in. Dot was not impressed, not one bit. You see, I thought the money would unlock the door and enable some good clean fun, it didn’t.

So, I asked for some more change and started again with the next available machine.

I was determined to make this the best wash ever, I even came equipped with conditioner. It was only after I had watched my clothes spin for 10 minutes that I realised that I had put the conditioner in the wrong section, after thirty minutes of washing for six pounds I can safely say my clothes smelled of nothing but water.

It was quite an experience though, I enjoyed the dryers the most, it’s a shame I didn’t have time to use them.

Next week on WithWood… A visit to the Bookies!

Writing on the Wall…

As the time of my exam draws nearer, I opt for another easy photo blog…

We received a letter through our door today highlighting the dangers of the youths on Leith Walk, breaking in doors, causing a fuss and writing on walls – not to worry though – the letter told me that the Graffiti artist had been caught! Now I only have to worry about the ones attempting to gain access to my stairwell.

I don’t condone the ‘art’, but at least it gives me something more interesting than the metro to read in the mornings. Perhaps the mystery man should use post-it notes instead, they get the message across in a striking way, but involve less cleaning.

World’s Worst Alarm Clock

Leith Walk is currently being torn apart to make way for trams. It was bad enough when my bus stop kept moving (which made me late on a daily basis) but for my room to start moving at 7:30 AM is just ridiculous!

My alarm is usually music with just the right amount of get-up-and-go, something motivational, uplifting and empowering, something like Mcfly.

This week before my computer had the chance to wake me, my bedroom window had started to vibrate and things on my desk had danced off the edge. My music came on shortly after, but I couldn’t hear it due some major constructional warfare outside.

This was the monster than ruined my day.

I remember reading some graffiti on Leith walk stating that ‘trams were a rubish idea’ not the best argument against trams that I had read but I agreed with it for at least three hours that morning.

All is well now though, at least my section of the road is complete, I can get back to waking up to the Prodigy and Daft Punk.  I just hope I can find my next temporary bus stop.

Busy as a Bee

I know I promised more action and adventure, but I have been studying hard and had no time to write words.

To pass time, I’ll be posting some photo’s I have taken on my wanders.

Remember, a picture paints a thousand words.

Today’s theme is Graffiti.

Leith walk has had so many phrases splattered all over it recently, I quite like them, they are well written with good handwriting, simple and effective.

Take a gander:

Dog Toffee No More…

I’ve had enough, today was the day that I had the last straw.

Banking should be something everyone can enjoy, free withdrawals for all. The hole in the wall should never cause a problem in day to day life…

I may have mentioned my hatred towards the street decorations left by dogs (or more precisely, by Dog Lovers {not those kind of lovers}).

Dog toffees turn an average walk into a scramble through a really disgusting mine field. It’s even worse when they’re placed in the queuing area of a bank machine. But sadly, I had no choice, I had to get some paper money.

Just inches away for a lady’s leg, what a world.

Shortly after I commenced queueing I was approached by a young lady (aged around 6) and her mother (aged approx. 40 – 59). The young lady had much to say on this topic, which made me think and thinking makes me blog.

The crux of the juvenile’s point was that “there was a big poo there” and I should “not stand in it”. I talked further on the matter with the youth about how there was far too much dog poo everywhere, she agreed and together we decided that there should be less. The girl then seemed to go off on a tangent: “you have BIG feet”, she was right, I did (and do). But, I couldn’t have the conversation go elsewhere, I quickly brought it back to poo “It’s harder to avoid poo with these shoes – and look [lifting shoe] – I have a hole in this one”. The attention that the girl once craved had soon disappeared and the Mother had become concerned with the amount of time I had spent discussing street politics with her offspring. Luckily, it was my turn to take some money out, I sung my PIN number in the usual fashion, took my monies and waved goodbye to the politically active youth.

It’s always been a problem around Junction Street and the river, a problem I aim to solve.

How to do it? Well, here goes…

1. A letter to the men and women in charge of pavements and dogs.

2. A name and shame campaign (I’ll be posting photos of the culprits)

3. Donations, from you to me (Just e-mail me and I’ll give you my paypal account). These donations will almost definatley be spent wisely.

Walking is not as enjoyable as it should be, always with head down, often sacrificing the ability to smile at strangers and avoid lampposts.

Somehow, the video capabiltiy on my phone has improved (started working again), things are looking up (when not walking) for WithWood.

And after all, with Autumn here we never know what might be under those wonderful leaves.

Be afraid, and always wipe your feet.