So I’ve been working funny days this week, and in between times I’ve been knitting and knitting and knitting an Yvette hat because, (i) it’s getting seriously nippy round here and the Stoic Spouse nicked my other hat, and (ii) my friend gave me some chunky, colourful yarn that’s perfect for the job. At precisely 3pm this afternoon I’m due to take my place outside in the twinnage’s school playground in order to help with the class cake sale, and if I’m going to stand out there freezing my bits off for very long, I NEED a hat. I also need some cakes, so I’d better go and pop the oven on in a minute…
So all week I’ve been driving my car (known without any affection at all as the Stinkwagon) through the crisp and misty winter Oxfordshire countryside to work. The driving is the easy bit. Parking at the hospital is… a tad trickier. Unless you’re super-early for work, you need to be a wee bit strategic. Really, creative parking is an essential vocational skill. Given that all hospitals have parking issues, they should cover this stuff in clinical training.
Various options exist:-
- Legitimate parking spaces. Congratulations: not only are you early for work, but you can also bask in your moral rectitude as you roll neatly into a designated space. Of course the downside is that any time you venture near the car park during the day, a convoy of hopeful drivers will follow you slowly and dolefully, sensing the blood of a possible imminently available space, and promising themselves that they’ll definitely get up for work earlier tomorrow in order to avoid this agony. That’ll be awkward if you’re just popping out to your car to eat your sandwiches in peace.
- Not-strictly-proscribed places that nobody has previously thought of. We’re all creative people here, yes? Well some folk apply that creativity to their parking. You’ve gotta admire them for their originality in manoeuvring their car on to the old tennis court or up a tree, but let’s allow them to test out that newfound option first to see whether they get into trouble before you risk parking there tomorrow.
- The mildly forbidden areas that would, in a more benevolent universe, be legitimate parking spaces. So let’s get something straight. Enthusiasm for your job is a good thing: everyone appreciates the employee who goes the extra mile. But the chap who painted the double yellow no-parking lines at work took the ‘going the extra mile’ concept a tad too literally and wiped out yards and yards of roadside space in the process. The cautious-by-nature and the super-well-behaved will avoid these spots, so really they’re just parking areas reserved for the mildly reckless. Count me in.
- The ‘No (Parking) And I Mean It This Time’ places. If double yellow lines mean ‘no parking’, then double red lines mean ‘really really no parking and I’m not joking’ in the same tone of voice that your mum used when you were six and she was properly cross with you. Sometimes they’ll even add a couple of traffic cones as well, which ramps it up to ‘RIGHT, THAT’S IT! DO THAT ONE MORE TIME AND I’LL CONFISCATE YOUR TOYS’. Parking here is the best way to get a photo of your car emailed round the entire hospital with a sarcastic description of your idiocy. Of course if you’re madly proud of your car then you might want everyone to see a picture of it, but leaving your Lamborghini in the ambulance bay probably wasn’t the cleverest way of achieving that, yeah?
I absolutely love your writing style! It’s very upbeat and jovial.
Thank you. I do enjoy being silly, and I’m touched when people like reading my ramblings.
Love your witty posts too. I also like knitting but knitting doesn’t like me as it gives me a pain in the neck, so I have to take lots of breaks. I get there in the end, but I stick to easy to do patterns.
Oh no, that sounds like a special kind of torture. 🙁 (I’m sure you thought of this years ago, but have you tried different sorts of needles? Wood instead of metal or vice versa.) This hat pattern is very simple, by the way.
Your posts always cheer me up and give me a little bit of home which I sorely miss now I live on the other side of the Atlantic. Thank you.
Aww, thank you for such very kind words. I’m sorry that you’re missing home, but I can understand the sentiment. (When I briefly lived in Canada, I loved it but missed our ancient buildings and how our history is clearly etched on our landscape.) I hope there are good things where you’re living now, too.
You’ve got some great skills right there Ms T. Love the hat. At least you didn’t put it in the fridge.
I’ve lived in Oxford and worked in its hospitals – I HAD to get damned good at parking.
Thanks re the hat. It’s a lovely, easy pattern for mindless evening stitchery.
(PS: just noticed your email address. ‘Tis a very cool email address. Don’t worry, I’m not about to spam it!)
I like that hat, finished or not!
Thank you. 🙂 It’s an excellent and very easy pattern.
You’re right, that yarn was perfect for that hat…Now you just need to knit matching mirror fog preventers to place on your car for strategic parking purposes…Who could deny such a beautifully decorated vehicle it’s rightful parking space…you could even sneak out one night and paint a space to match, so all will know, the accessories must match the space…Then you could send out a memo, right? Kidding, but I relate as I circle the parking lot twice at school, hoping someone will leave class early today.
Ha ha, I love it! You really shouldn’t give me crazy ideas, though. Now I’m seriously thinking of yarnbombing the stinkwagon…
And yes, I can well imagine that schools aren’t the easiest places at which to find parking, either.
Yarn bomb the Stinkwagon…yes, do it, do it. 😀
Parking is that thing that can turn us all Machiavellian…Love the hat and you don’t actually need makeup!
Yes, exactly what Lisa said!
Agreed on the parking front, sadly.
Thank you for the kind words. (As for the makeup issue, my phone seems to have automatically made my skin look glowing and healthy: the sleep-deprived, wine-soaked, ageing reality is a little different!)
We have noticed in the local hospital that staff have the biggest and best car park whilst the sick and injured have 1/4 mile to walk from the smallest car park and have to pay a fortune for it. A relative undergoing cancer treatment in Oxford was told to get to the hospital by public transport because there was inadequate patient car parking spaces. Then take the disgusting and dreadful food provided it’s a wonder anyone gets better at all!
Nice knitting by the way!
Eek, that doesn’t sound like a good balance. And having been a patient (or with a patient) at the John Radcliffe in Oxford quite a few times in recent years, I know that you do usually have to wait ages to find a parking space there. I hope that your relative is getting the absolute best care and treatment possible for their cancer. (There are some very very skilled medics working at that hospital.)
(Just realized that your relative might be at the Churchill instead. Parking ANYWHERE in Oxford is a bit of a nightmare.)
Yes, it was the Churchill and they have had two all clears. Thanks
Phew. (On the all clears.)
It’s been a while since searching for a park at a hospital – but this brought it all back, so funny!
So it’s not just a British problem, then?
You snapped me back to NZ, as if I’d been trying to park yesterday!
Love the hat, and love the parking humour. Our local hospital (enormous place) has about 30 parking spaces for all its visitors. I’ve seen fights break out in the car park for spaces! And it has some weird centrifugal force that makes you drive round and round until eventually you find yourself outside the hospital heading home without even realising you haven’t actually been in the hospital yet! X
Street walking, creative parking, and knitting a lovely hat… GREAT post!
Awww, thank you! You’re very kind.