One man kept backtracking as he remembered things the family might need in case of shortages – “sorry, sorry”, he kept apologising, unaware in those days of magic hand-sanitiser that his outbreath and loud ‘sorry’ could itself be a vector for spread.
They gave me a generic poinsettia-ful Christmas centrepiece with a dirty (and elderly) carrot plonked on top. And I paid up and meekly took it home.
Weedkiller-spraying and care for the environment make the strangest of bedfellows, don’t they?
Letting Go Of The Lawn We never realised wielding a rotivator would be so heavy. We took turns, and I realised as I struggled to keep my lines following hers – this is why they have ploughing competitions; it truly is a tough skill. We had to do it twice before we got rid ofContinue reading “My Blue, Blue, Heart (Part One)”
Stan reckons the high street has been killed by internet shopping – and the council.