Same coin, different sides

I love London.
I am sitting on a bench eating my chicken and salad sandwich overlooking Hammersmith Bridge, with my friend Kingston. He is from New Zealand. An old Jamaican dude sitting next to us tells us all he knows about promiscuity of information – the worst of which is committed by doctors and nurses. I tell him I have not heard of the concept. He asked if he can have a bite of Kingston’s pear.

I hate London.
An angry driver beeps at a pedestrian who was going far too slowly over a zebra crossing. She is going slowly as is with a frail old lady. The frail old lady is in a wheelchair. He beeped. At someone on a zebra crossing. Who was pushing a wheelchair. Arsehole.

Perspective

Every now and again much joy and laughter is sprinkled on my relationship with the Norwegian when we jointly discover a word or phrase with an amusing translation.

A Cat nap is a hen's blink for example.

The latest such titillation was finding out the kitchen implement used to lift a fried egg onto a slice of toast or flip a fish finger is called a 'frying spade' in Norwegian.

Stekespade pronounced Stair ke spa da

'A spade! A frying spade. How sweet. I absolutely love it.'

The Norwegian laughs and asks.

'So what do you call it then?'

'A fish slice.'

He just smiles at me.

As Marcus Aurelius said, 'Everything we hear is an opinion, not a fact. Everything we see is a perspective, not the truth.'