Got the bus into Glasgow AGAIN today because the Department of Work & Pensions needed a copy of our marriage license. Why? Don’t they have a copy in one of their multitude of departments, or don’t they speak to each other? Probably not. Anyway, we had to go to Glasgow to get a copy and had to pay £10 for the privilege. Interesting to see that the assistant registrar simply printed off a copy of the original then signed it in ink using a fountain pen. We are in the 21st century aren’t we?
On our way home I bumped into an ex-colleague from school who is also retired and now lives in France. Haven’t seen her for about twenty years! I was complaining about the above DWP requirements until she told me that she has to write a letter every year to tell them she is still alive. That made me feel a lot better.
I really like listening to this guy whose pitch is at the top of Buchanan Street in Glasgow. It’s difficult to get a clean shot of him without too many punters photobombing you. Only one today and he was just trying to work out how to text with his new phone.