I went to physiotherapy this morning with the intention of going shopping for Badger’s birthday as I had an opportunity of being alone.
Unfortunately I learned there that one of my neighbours in the village had died so I went straight from the medical centre to the funeral home to say my goodbyes to him. We still have that old custom of “viewing the body” here. So, said my words to George, patted his arm, kissed my fingers and laid them on his forehead and said the tradtional “Bonne nuit” as if he were just asleep. Wrote a quick message in the condolences book from both of us, then sped off to the shops to buy cards (birthday and condolance)
Our new adopter GingerPop hasn’t always had a great relationship with Badger so he bought him a huge box of assorted biscuits (payback) and a gorgeous card which is mis-spelt and got confused between French and English, so it reads “Happi purrdi Tonton Unkl” (Tonton is French diminutive for uncle)
Lily and Piston had told me to buy Dad some “bitz” – which is their word for anything they get from our dinners but never on our plates. A corner of pizza, tiny bit of meat etc. So I found an Italian selection of Bitz for Humans which are wrapped.
In the village we have a family who are mainly shunned because they are mentally-challenged which led to a brother and sister having a child. Obviously it makes sod-all difference to me so I greet them and chat to the daughter who is the more communicating one. Seeing them with two trollies at the check-out I was tempted to leave it be, having greeted them. But it was chilly and damp and I wouldn’t walk three kilometres to their house which is on my way home…which is why I went back and ensured their shopping was being delivered.
“OK – hop in the Post Van I’ll deliver you two!” I chirped as I bundled them into Custard. I didn’t know they had a box of chocolates to give to someone on the way. The screeching alerted me to a disaster and we stopped. The chocs were still at the shop. So back we went, got the present and drove again to their friend’s. Duly re-packed, set-belted and secure, we finally got off to their home and mine.
I’d phoned Badger to say that I’d be late but I hadn’t anticipated an hour and a half late! Busy ole morning I think. And I must learn to listen to my own ideals – you help, doesn’t matter if it takes time, you help. End of.
The Bingergread Cottage 
I like your ideal, Ailsa 🙂
Thank you — I don’t have many but if I try to over-rule them, the spirits kick my arse and make me do the right thing!!!!
The best attitude, as usual, Ailsa. Happy Birthday to Badger!
Muchos gracias, I do my best, despite my worse nature trying to take over xxxxx
You’re a born sweetheart and darlin’, darling.
As for that box of chocolates, they would have been buggered if it wasn’t for you and Custard.
It’s that village thing greatly missing in the larger towns and cities. Gives a community it’s raison d’etre, with the occasional poke and nudge by that core of instigators such as yourself.
Badger may have growled, but he would be smirking at the whole escapade.
Oh yes – I tried to explain to someone the other day that despite the occasional snarl-up, village life suits me perfectly. I’m part of it and it’s part of me. My nosy neighbour comes in very handy when I’m away and she shouts at anyone around my house – OI! Wot you looking for?
Badger howled with laughter when I told him why I was late because… yes, you guessed, he’d have been doing the same xxxxx
P.S. Yes! A very happy birthday to himself!
EVERYONE as this is likely to be Badger’s last birthday I shall be making a big thing about it on Monday. He doesn’t usually make any fuss about it but we always give “from da babbies” – the animals. I know, daft buggers!!!!
Happy Birthday, Badger. Amazing day – amazing you, Ailsa. xxx
Thank you – I’m not amazing, just slightly dizzy!!!