A Friday afternoon whiled away on a bench outside a countryside house.
It was a cold and wet morning which improved slightly to a bluish type of sky albeit with rather low temperatures ( 19 degrees ) which as funny as it sounds was extremely welcome to me. This last week has been unbearably hot, humid and unrelenting which makes our house not much better than a hot house.
We were sitting on a bench instead of inside as it was pleasantly breezy and a neighbour was busy toiling in his huge vegetable garden. Nothing more relaxing than watching somebody do gardening. The mind wonders via fictitious promises to do the same at home and barely has enough left to follow or lead a conversation but as we both enjoyed watching this labour of love, we had enough to talk about trying to decipher the individual lines of greens.
After a while this hobby gardener joined us for a chat and before we knew it, our conversation had touched all four corners of the world. All of a sudden we heard a distant but long drawn out hoot being let off and all three of us knew;
" Ah, the butcher is here. "Yes, village life includes a refrigerated butcher's truck driving through the various suburbs of Deutsch Schützen and Eisenberg as I found out on my way home. Nearly drove into him on a tight corner. Coupled with the baker's van doing early morning runs twice a week, they manage to pied piper rather a lot of villagers out of their houses. Oh, I almost forgot Bo Frost...a clue cleverly wrapped up in the name. Frozen goodies and not all of the healthy type either. Ice creams, tv dinners and pre-cooked Schnitzels have been known to change hands.
In fact, the other day someone mumbled about Bo Frost delivering many items to a neighbour and that it wasn't any wonder that they were a touch unhealthy. Oh yes, the joys of living in a small village. News is garnered after sleuthing by either seeing an unfamiliar car parked overnight, a Bo Frost dropping of deliveries or shutters closed earlier than normal...
Biggi
No comments:
Post a Comment