Suburban visions and bus wisdom

 Saw two or three things today that made me doubt objective reality, in a modest boring suburban middle aged kind of way. 

The first happened a few blocks down from our house; on a plot of land that used to contain a nice old yellow weatherboard house with a back garden. Over the past few years the Baron and I had seen, with dismay, how this house was knocked down, the land razed, and a flimsy looking structure of boards and glass and what have you erected in its stead. Two or three months ago, these massive doors were finally installed in the front of the houses, and they were installed so badly that the handles on the left-hand side of the doors did not match with the handles on the right-hand side of doors. It really was - is - the most unconvincing piece of architecture I've ever seen. House? Art? Economic investment? I'm not sure it knows itself what it wants to be. 

Well, this morning, as I walked with Elspeth to the train station, I noticed - scowling into the sunlight (which has no business being so bright this time of year) a young heavily pregnant woman in grey singlet and suburban-mum tracky-dacks, and a toddler. 

Odd sort of vision to be having before lunch, I thought, and went on my way.

The second happened later that morning, at the market, where I happened upon a potato vendor looking rather potatoid himself. Brown coat, and a gnarled, knobbly face, as if he'd only recently been drawn up from out of the earth. Is it possible for potatoes to be able to walk and talk like that? 

Not sure what any of this means, really, but I thought I'd impart it all to you. I'll leave you with the two messages imparted to me this afternoon, by the digital screen on the bus. 

The first message reads: 

PLEASE REMEMBER TO VALID 

Not to be outdone, the second follows: 

ER TO VALIDATE YOUR MYKI. 

I think we can all get something from those two pieces of wisdom.