Steadily tapping into researching my Viking ancestry. I’m looking for this ceremonial spoon connected to the Toki tribe.
My dad suspected Westminster Abbey may know something, so I made an enquiry. They don’t have it on site, but they did find this article on a ‘Toki Runestone’ found in St. Paul’s churchyard in the 1850s. St Paul’s may also know something. I’m awaiting their response.
To tap into my anestral roots, I've been listening to this:
Oh, and I nearly got in a bare fist fight – my first since 1998 – with an Amazon courier on Tuesday morning. He seemed to be parked up at the side of the road, although he may have been doing a turn in the road for all I know. Either way, I just drove past him. There was plenty of space, and I had right of way, so I moved out to go around him. As I did, he looked at me like I’d just burned his grandmother or something.
I thought nothing of it until I saw him speeding towards me in my rear view mirror. When I turned off to get to my office, he turned off, flashing his lights and gesturing angrily.
Well, I thought. Here we go. I turned into my car park and parked near the door. He parked near the entrance at the far end.
For some reason I thought of the movie Sicario.
What are the rules here?
We must be engaged to engage. Do what they do. If they get out, you get out.
He got out, so I got out.
“What the fuck’s the matter with you?” he asked. “Don’t you know how to drive?”
“I’m pretty sure I do. What did I do wrong?”
He walked closer. “If I hadn’t have seen you I’d have hit you!”
If anyone doesn’t see someone they might hit them, I thought. It’s called driving with due care and attention.
But I didn’t say that. Instead… “The highway code states that if you’re moving from a side road to a main road, YOU have to give way. I had right of way.”
He walked back to his van calling me a prick and an arsehole over his shoulder. He gave me the finger as he drove off.
What a fucking morning. I tweeted my annoyance to Amazon UK who predictably ignored it.
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