The Quest For A Front Door Parking Space.

Nobody seems to be fond of walking the extra mile.

It dawned on me this morning while I was parked outside the doctor's ( only ferrying a couple to and fro ) surveying the usual suspects edging with dread up the stairs, that the reason our local shop had such busy mornings was the rewards most people would buy for themselves after having survived a stint at the doctor's. Of course finding out the latest local gossip has much to do with it.

Medical mission completed saw us drive around the corner to Wachter's to pick up a supposed pint of milk that morphed into two whole bags full of groceries. Shopping at Wachter's is often a mere ruse to meet old friends and villagers. The shop only has an two isles of twenty meters in length, but my elderly charges can disappear in there for close to an hour. Seriously, but I love it because they enjoy it so much and always come out invigorated with newfound local knowledge.

A chat with this one, a natter with that one and a general update on village news. All the while I stay outside, today standing in a shady spot next to the entrance. Only when I am driving those who can't walk much, do I park right in front of the entrance, if it's available. It is an official parking spot but now and again a pensioner will aim a sarcastic comment my way. Like today's

" Haven't you snagged the best parking. "

which I knew was meant like that as he'd parked angrily off kilter in a no-parking zone...walking an extra five meters? Good gracious no...Little did he realize that I had re-parked my car each time someone left the shop because it was hot and humid today and as my charges are close to ninety I didn't want to have to walk more than necessary.

Biggi