Dear fellow bus passenger,

I am writing to you in admiration. Many of us lead our daily lives without a care for others, without an idea of how our actions may affect people, and without any feeling towards complete strangers. You, however, are different. You are a model for human behaviour. For this, I must congratulate you.

It is clear that you have been suffering recently. To have contracted such a horrendous, hacking cough – and for it to be so persistant – must be very debilitating. When you sit next to me, I can not help but feel a little pity. And yet, my heart is also filled with admiration. Even during your time of agony, you still maintain a philosophy of utilitarianism – ensuring that the greatest good is given to the greatest number. I understand that a cough can take even the most prepared by surprise – leaving an impossible amount of time to reach for a tissue, sleeve, or even a fist. Therefore, you are to be honoured for you decision to turn towards me and cough uninterrupted so that the other travellers may not be inflicted by your germs. I know for a fact that I have not been smitten by some unique, one-off, event, for you have performed that action on various occasions with, if the feeling on my skin is to be noted, varying levels of effectiveness.

It is not just the way you deal with your health that I appreciate – your level of communication is also to be applauded. It is very true that the background noise on a bus can be very distracting when you are trying to talk to somebody. Particularly so when that somebody is on the phone. You have clearly observed that the decibels of a bus can not be turned down – therefore, I laud your decision to raise the volume of your voice to a level that even the most easily distracted would find difficult to ignore. I am certain that there isn’t anyone you have called who hasn’t left the conversation being fully aware of what mode of transport you are taking, what the weather is like, and what you are possibly considering to have for dinner.

Finally, I feel it is necessary to point out what good you are doing for the world. Consumers today are being forced into a market of artificial and chemically manufactured ingredients. This is most notable in the areas of fragrance and personal hygiene. Therefore, your decision to use only nature’s ingredients is a bold step, and yet one that I am certain everyone around you has noticed. Washing your clothes and yourself can put so many pollutants into the environment – so your move to eliminate those processes is one that can not be ignored.

I’m sure we will be spending a lot of quality time together over the next few months. I have no doubts that one day we will interact on a very personable level.

Yours faithfully,

Ben Gallagher

It’s been a while, I know. It’s not you, it’s me. I’m sorry.

About 14 years ago I was a member of my local library. I used it quite a lot – I was a big fan of Dick King-Smith books and gradually worked my way through most, if not all, of them. I was bit too much of a fan, and sometimes returned them late. However, one day, I decided not to return the book at all. It was a book called “Ace” – it had a brightly coloured cover and looked nice on my bookshelf. Apparently libraries took this crime fairly seriously, and I received a letter to say that I had been banned from the library service indefinitely. I was mortified. Nobody believed that it would last very long. When I was 18 I tried to re-enroll – but was denied due to a “previous lack of compliance with library standards and rules”. One can only assume that Dick King-Smith books are very precious to them as well.

Why am I telling you this? I am writing this in a library. Bar Hill library. For the first time in 14 years I am a member of a local library. I haven’t told them of my previous deviations from library law, and I hope that they don’t find out – at least not until the internet connection has been set up at my house.

So, it turns out that moving house is quite difficult. It’s not the ‘putting things in boxes’ part that’s hard (although it turns out that duvets resent being put in boxes), it’s the ’sorting through stuff’ part that turns ones brain to a confused mush.

In case you hadn’t gathered, Heather and I are moving house. In fact, we are really moving country – we don’t yet have a house to move to. Nevertheless, this means that a lot of our possessions need to go into boxes, where they will be stored for two years, and re-opened when we return. This is, therefore, not your average move.

Firstly, we have to decide if it is ours – Heather has lived in this house for 5 years, and had 5 years worth of roomates who have kindly left her a lot of their possessions. Secondly, we have to decide whether it is coming to England or going to Purgatory. Then, we have to decide if it is worth keeping in a box for two years, or given away / sold / burned. Finally, we have to decide if it is a precious item – and, therefore, must live inside the in-laws house – or, if it is suitable for their garage. So, effectively, there are several moves taking place.

In less than a week’s time we will be in England wondering why we ever got so worried about the move… maybe!