“I’m sorry,” I said. ”I was rushing to get done and the bottle tipped over.”
“Don’t give it a second thought,” said the nice Sainsbury’s guy. “Accidents happen. I’ll send someone along to clean it up.”
So, finishing my wine purchase–six bottles of Anjou white–I sighed and plodded on as quick as I can. Which is not very quick. I just don’t seem to be able to do quick these days without getting out of breath and twitchy. I’ll mention it to the doctor when I see him next but I don’t think it’s anything more sinister than advancing years, lack of exercise, and carrying too much weight.
I’d got up and out early, you see, so that I could be home to see a delivery in for a neighbour who had to go off to a family funeral. And, typical of me, I’d cut it all a bit fine on the timing.
So, then, a nice quiet day at home, with just a bit of TV and only a short nap after my lunch.
Tomorrow, weather and legs permitting, I’ve promised myself a bit of a trip out into the countryside in search of hills, forests, plains and mountains. And a decent waterfall. Haven’t done a decent waterfall in years.
In the late afternoon, when the light had faded a bit, I glanced out of my study window to see a pair of ducks waddling about the development. Apparently, like the peacocks, these ducks ‘own’ us, and use us to their own advantage when Spring comes round.
I like ducks. I like ducks a lot more than I like peacocks. They have more character and sense of humour. And they taste better, too.
We have DUCKS!
