The bus

OK, so this first photo is blurred, but I'm including it because it is important - today I took my first journey on the bus with George, now this might not seem like a monumental thing to do, but for me, it is, as aside from negotiating a bus ride with a pram, I had to negotiate the actual getting on the bus full stop. 

I have, you see, a form of agoraphobia, a kind of going-out-of-the-house-on-my-own phobia, it is something I have been working hard to beat since George was born and something I made a great leap forward with in January when I left the house with George on my own for the first time in 'Travels with my Pram' - since then I've conquered Tod and it's cafes and market and feel safe and at home walking it's streets; but I had yet to venture any further. It had been years since I got a bus on my own, I couldn't even put a date on it, 2006 possibly? back in Chorlton of course, but today was a real milestone. 

We went to Hebden and got off just by the park. The rain was pelting down and I thought i'd better head into a shop somewhere so I could text Graham. I found shelter in a lovely book shop and whilst organising meeting my best friend for coffee I browsed the children's books and found myself ordering The Gruffalo's Child. It will be in next week and gives me reason to return. From here we went to The Pot Stop with the least child friendly steps and doorway ever, and from there, to Innovation which is where we met Uncle G.

  

We had coffee and talked and G changed George for me while I ordered him a bacon sarnee (fair exchange for a poopy nappy) and me a cheese toastie. Then we popped the boy in a high chair and talked some more. I shared my toastie with George - who shared it with the floor. Then Uncle G gave him his bottle. When we came out it was still raining but we went for a walk through the park and over the bridge.

The photograph doesn't even begin to convey how wet and grey and horrid the weather was, but it was the full nine yards of valley gloom. After this my phone died and so with it, the chance of any more photographs, and from here, we got the bus home. Tod was even more torrential and by the time we'd toured the bric a brac market (stallholders complaining bitterly about the inclemency) I was soaked to the skin and my hair so wet that the rain was now running directly into my eyes and down my face. Happiness - is a change of clothes, a towel for my hair and warm socks to put on - all of which I'd thankfully had the foresight to leave in the living room for our return.