This morning we motored to our surgery in order for me to produce about a fingerful of blood (as Mr. Hancock might have said) to check the warfarin is doing its job, then motored on to our favourite farm shop, where we adjourned to the coffee bar, bagged the table nearest to the fireplace and ordered a coffee for Ann and a pot of tea for meself. When Ann had finished her coffee she went off with a trolley to buy fruit and vegetables, and left me to finish me pot of tea and peruse the paper I'd brought with me. A while later Ann waved to me from the doorway to say she was ready to go, and as I was pulling me coat on a young lady from a table at the other side of the room began waving violently at me. She was probably (but only just) about three, and, as soon as I got an arm free and waved back, she resumed waving and smiling with renewed vigour (Ann said afterwards that she thought the child was quite convinced that I was Father Christmas enjoying my post Christmas relaxation, and that she thought it might be a good idea to propitiate the old man in view of the coming Next Christmas). The child's older sister (a rather proper young lady of perhaps six) looked a little disapproving of her sister's forwardness and reported the matter to their father. He didn't seem to mind too much, so I stopped at their table to pass the time of day with the young one, who proved to be a thoroughly sociable young person, and continued waving frantically at us until we were out of sight. Cheered us both up no end!
Not that either of us was miz, It's just that I do enjoy enthusiasm in young or old.
Took something of a small detour on the way home as the sun was shining (very cold though, still) to take the above photo of a house I've always liked the look of , which overlooks our small river a few miles out of town.
The above photo is of the double daffs that friend Helga gave Ann for her birthday. They are lasting well, but because (being double, I suppose) they are very heavy headed, their stalks have started breaking in the middle; so Ann cut them down and put them in a Victorian jug, where they continue to look very well.
Goodnight All.
8 comments:
I love small children, they're so naturally friendly!
Strange Mike, how when we were young we could charm the old birds and now we're a little older we seem able to charm the very young ladies. Life is mischievous!
How right you are Zoe. Bit unmanly of me to admit this, but I do like young babies- six months or younger. I've yet to find a child of this age that I couldn't sing to sleep (unless they were hungry). Tinies always seem to like a deep male voice.
Hi Carl. Ironic perhaps rather than mischievous. And what makes you think we can't still charm what you so disrespectfully call 'the old birds' now. I think people of any age respond to respect and old fashioned courtesy. The old because we remember and are used to it, and the young because it's rare these days, and they're not used to it.
And I know I'm teaching my Granny here.
Warm regards to you both.
Dear F.C.
Sorry this is a bit late, but I appear to have been misinformed as to you whereabouts. Rumour has it that you are much further North. Anyway, thank you for all my Christmas Presents so far. My wish list will be along soon.
XxX
Do I take it that you'll be going to the North Pole this Christmas?
What a sweet story.
She may also have thought you were the dream grandfather as in Heidi.
Thank you Pat. I think I prefer your theory to Ann's.
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