Hi Everyone!
We planned for me to go to shampoo the carpets. The vicar had done a lot of moving stuff into
her bedroom. On arrival a bacon buttie
was waiting for me. After that moving
the heavier items began. Everything I
could move went into the kitchen, bathroom and hallway. First, I went on hands and knees and brushed
the edges of the carpet before I used the vacuum cleaner to collect all the
bits. Then I got the shampooer. I kept moving the three-seater settee and two
heavy chairs to where I had cleaned already.
After I finished, I noticed that Mary didn’t look too
good, so although she is always kind enough to cook me some dinner, I told her
to give that a miss and go and get some rest.
Some of you may remember the ducks (faggots) she made
for me. A few days ago, she took great
delight in telling me they had disappeared from the freezer. I told her that if she’d given them to anyone
outside Britian there would be an international incident. But wait a minute: who do you think ate my
promised ducks? MARY!!! How selfish can a person get? She made some more then texted me to tell me
she had eaten them herself!
Here I am working my socks off, and what do I get in
return? A hole in the top of my head
because the vicar left cupboard doors open for me to run into! Now I’ve got eight holes in my head!
She’s also giving me grief about my pronunciation of
words, mainly because I said I was ravishing when I meant I was ravenous.
Tonight I cooked spaghetti bolognaise with garlic bread
and I told her I was becoming a gourmet chef.
I know what she was thinking and it’s a wonder she didn’t text me. She would have said a gormless chef. But I forgive her just this once.
I took my best friend and daughter-in-law out for a
pub meal and they agreed I out some very funny stuff into my mouth. When I told my vicar friend she laughed and
said that a lot of funny stuff comes out too.
You can go off people! There was
no need for that. Just because my
linguistic skills need honing a little.
I’m just a country boy who went to an ordinary school whereas the vicar
went to a posh townie school. (All of
this is just banter: the vicar knows me rather well.) And I know the Man upstairs loves everyone
equally.
I don’t know if I’ve said too many nice things to the
vicar but it’s got to stop. If we’re texting, she always has to have the last
word. In fact, whatever I do she has to
have the last word. That 25-30 minute
phone call each morning puts us both in a happy frame of mind. I’m sure we both start the day with a smile
on our faces.
I hope you are all in the best of health and the
elderly people you know get visited – it means so much to them. Take good care of yourselves and everyone
around you.
Best wishes
Jack
The vicar here, once again having the last word. Jack gave me this post several weeks ago. Since then he's cleaned another carpet, had another birthday and taken home another batch of ducks as well as several portions of his favourite leek and potato soup.. He will be able to read any comments you leave but not respond to them
