According to the Merriam-Webster, one of the definitions of martyr is victim. Speaking of which, I had a close call earlier today but now I am home in one piece so I guess I am Almost a Martyr.
I went for a grocery shopping and was driving down the street when I noticed a truck right behind me. It was a commercial garbage-truck looking thing. Not being particularly fond of a truck on my tail, I changed lanes. The truck did the same.
It’s just a coincidence, I thought. And changed the lanes back, if only to see what happens. And it did happen again.
I made a right turn into another street; the truck followed. This cat-and-mouse game continued in the same pattern for a few blocks, and even when I took a red light, the truck took it, too. Now it wasn’t a coincidence any more…
“The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter, It isn’t just one of your holiday games; You may think at first I’m as mad as a hatter When I tell you, a cat must have three different names.” – T.S.Eliot
Leaving Vaynor my pal had another interesting story for me about a Welsh industrialist, a man called John Hughes who actually was a Welshman rather than an English industrialist, born in Merthyr Tydfil, Wales, where his father was head engineer at the Crawshay’s Cyfarthfa Ironworks.
He was so successful that by the 1840s he had made his reputation and his fortune by patenting a number of inventions in armaments and armour plating. By the age of twenty-eight he owned a shipyard and eight years later a foundry in nearby Newport. During the 1850s he won worldwide recognition for the iron cladding of wooden warships for the British Admiralty.
Crazy Pasta Child 