Monday.

This morning, just after ten a.m., we decided that as it was a lovely day we'd go for a walk across the fields by the footpaths. We walked out of town and across to the next village, where we took a back lane down to the watermill, which hasn't been in use for some years and is beginning to look a bit down at heels.

We walked from the milll across a footbridge, and then on to the village after that, where we know there is a decent pub. It was about 11. 30 by then, and we were glad to see the pub, as we were in need of liquid refreshment. As we approached it we realised it looked a bit quiet, and found the front door was locked. Just then the landlord drove into the yard of the pub, and Ann hailed him- "are you closed?"
"I'm afraid so". Then he recognised us "You've walked a long way. I should think you need a drink. Hold on, I'll unlock the place". We walked round to the back door with him, he opened up, and served us. I offered him a £20 note in payment. "Sorry, I can't change that. And as I'm not really open, I don't want to unlock the till. Tell you what. Next time you're this way, pop in and pay me then. I'd be obliged if you would. I've got an old clock on the wall of my home that will only go if it's hung a bit sideways, and I'd like you to have a look at it."
"Well," says I, "I think it'll just need setting in beat, and I think that'll take me about two minutes". "Alright", says Steve, the landlord "If that's all that needs doing, will you do it for the price of the drinks?"
"Of course I will. And if it is only a two minute job, that will mean that my rate of pay should be about £90 per hour." Which would be, of course, more than I've ever earned in my life.

Now you can see why I like life in the country. You'd not get that level of service from a pub in a large town.