Red Shoes

I am thinking that you may have been wondering what happened to that girl Caroline, who used to write to this little space in the blog world. She hasn’t been around in a few months.
If you thought that I had forgotten about my blog, you would be a little right, but not completely. Truth is the past few months have been a little unsettled. Been as my blog is called song of happiness I didn’t really want to post a bunch of miserable posts. So I saved you from that

I am hoping that things are now settling down some, although I am not feeling very settled as yet, but I don’t intend to bore you with those details.

Instead, I am going to try and think of something else to write about. Maybe one of my public transportation stories.

As you may know I don’t drive (yet – but I have been working on that lately), so I take public transportation to work. It seems I am one of those people that people like to talk to. This morning I was wearing my favourite red shoes. There was a couple of us waiting for the bus, including one lady with a white cane. She checked with me the bus number before we climbed on board and we ended up sitting next to each other.

Now, I learnt something here, as I thought people with white canes were blind, but turns out that is not the case, as she commented on my red shoes - so clearly she could see, although maybe not quite so well. My shoes happened to be the same red as her skirt. Well, by this point she’d heard me talk enough to pick up on my accent, so the discussion began.

She had been to England a long time ago, and had fallen in love with it. We got to talking about where in England I was from, and I was impressed that just by me saying I was from the North East, she was able to rattle off counties in that area, and name landmarks, although she’d never actually got that far north.

Needless to say this was quite a different experience to some of the others I’ve had since moving here, where when asked where I am from and I say England, they think I mean New England…