Crunch, crunch

Crunch. Crunch, crunch, crunch. The Sage and I are having tea*. He is eating a chocolate biscuit. I am eating celery and carrots.

Tilly covers her ears with her paws. She has had her dinner and her hide chew and she has nothing to crunch.

Catherine came in the shop today. Before we knew her name, she was the Hat Lady, as she always wears one. A few years ago, she developed an allergic reaction to sunlight and now she has to stay covered up. She is cheerful and enthusiastic and loves vegetables, especially our home-grown ones. She uses encouraging words – “super” and “marvellous” a good deal. She asked for some celeriac, and I fetched the newly-delivered bag from the back. I looked through them to find just the one she wanted. “That’s really groovy,” she said.

Everyone was happy today. The sun was shining and people were bustling about doing their shopping. If you have time for it, the social intercourse of traditional shopping holds great charm. Friends meet and chat for a few minutes, go their separate ways and then laugh when they meet again ten minutes later in the next shop. “We’ve got good taste,” they agree. “We meet in all the best shops.” There were lots of mums of young children and they looked happy too. The children helped count out the oranges and admired the purple cauliflowers, and the mums chatted and agreed to meet at Mums and Tods the next day. We’re always being told how boring it is, to bring up young children, and I was glad to see that some people know it’s only lonely if you don’t have the opportunity to talk to other people. As some don’t, of course. We’re lucky, living here.

Although I had lunch late (corn on the cob, a small baked potato and some yoghurt), I was hungry by four o’clock and rang Al. “Dad’s calling in soon” I said, “Can you send him back with some celery and carrots, please?” The Sage was home within ten minutes. Apparently, Al had made it clear that it was an emergency.

I’m being teased rotten about my intention to ride to Yagnub every day.

*this is afternoon tea, of course, not our evening meal.

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