Another Tuesday

I think my little seat in the library is quite a usual one. Man wearing perfume, or some smelly chemical stuff tha annoys my nose. A couple of Polish people talking loudly. Very impolite, these Polish people. I was quite happy when the local Polish population was limited to the Polish War Graves. Much like those Polish people in the most recent of Harry Enfield's programmes they look down their oddly-shaped foreign noses at you.

As I've said, my berth at the charity shop has shown me that it's tremendously over-staffed. Well, that was even more the case today. The area manager swanned in with her entourage, like the hearthtroop or some medieval tyrant. She brought along another volunteer, some woman who didn't seem to be there for any reason and a young relative. The second manager turned up for a few minutes, too, although she's meant to be off for the next few weeks "sick". She stayed around just long enough to slag off her fellow manager. As I've said, I don't understand all this back-stabbing.

Mind you, don't think they extra staff (all female, of course) got any extra work done. Between them they did more or less nothing, certainly less got done that it does when they aren't there. Similarly, don't think any of them felt the need to do any kind of carrying. You think I was superman and they were all as fragile as Matty Upson, the balsa-wood centre-half. Up and down all day long, I was. I wouldn't have though a box of batteries would have been so heavy.

Martin Short wrote a book about the Mafia criminal conspiracy (Maheu and Susurluk included) and one about the Masons. He's not the only one to write books on different subjects which interest me. Eric Dingwall: writer on psychic issues and anti-feminist issues. Anyone familiar with spiritualism in the twentieth century will rcognise the name, but his "American Woman" is considerably less well-known. Of course, there are reasons to be concerned about Dingwall, although I can't remember what they are. As I could only remember about TWA800 that a naval vessel was fleeing the scene soon after and that someone aboard was the target (as with Lockerbie) (I seem to recall that I didn't even note down the name of the target in my little note book, it's just something I've picked up somewhere an squirreled away in my subconscious, so I don't know who it was (contactee, drug dealer, intelligence agent, could've been anyone, anyone have a passenger manifest?)). So, I'm paranoid about Dingwall and I don't know why, but my brain doesn't normally steer my wrong. Even so, The American Woman is a good book. Best book on feminism there is, perhaps barring the works of E Belfort Bax.

Something to be thinking about.