Trains (and Pâté)

So, having recently moved, I thought I’d share with you a phenomenon that I’ve come to live with: living beside a train line. Now, you may be thinking “aha, Robert, you poor fool! Living beside a train line must be hell!”. Well, short answer: it isn’t.

For one thing I acclimatised very quickly. I still notice when trains go past during the day, but it’s in the same way you notice birds chirping – very much a “meh” situation. In the morning, hough it is very handy to have the early trains rushing past – at the moment it’s better than having an alarm clock. I haven’t (unintentionally) slept in since I got here. Of course, when you are trying to sleep off a thumping hangover they are less welcome, but even then it’s just a case of ‘roll over and go back to sleep’. So yeah, not a bad thing all round. Plus, I could decrease the noise by 20-50% just by shutting my window…

Now, from the “wot I had for breakfast” department: what colour does pâté turn when it goes off? I’ve had some of the duck & orange stuff in the fridge for a couple of days, and it has turned from a healthy-looking rust colour, to the decidedly less healthy grey. It isn’t grey all over, but as if something has been growing outwards from one corner. It is still well within date (use by 14th April) and doesn’t smell obviously repugnant, so I’m assuming the grey stuff is benign – kind of like cheese sweat.

Anyway I had a couple of slices of toast with the stuff. Something seemed to be screaming at me not to eat it (thought that may have been my flatmate) but it tasted fine. If I drop dead I’ll be sure to have someone come by here and post a warning not to eat dodgy-looking pâté.

Yes, I know I’ve made my feelings on the “wot I had for breakfast”-type posts clear in the past. This is an exception.