The Sage puts the fun into funeral

The Sage was out most of the day at a funeral.  Please don’t take it amiss if I say that he thoroughly enjoyed it.  He saw a number of people he hadn’t talked to for decades.

That’s how it is though, isn’t it?  Weddings and funerals are where you mostly meet up with old acquaintances, and you reach the age when the latter are the better bet.  For one thing, it’s not nearly so noisy and the service will probably be way shorter.  No speeches and no necessity to dance.  The dress code is usually straightforward, certainly for the men, as women might just be asked to make a point of wearing colour.  There is no requirement to buy a new outfit, however.

Best of al, you meet lots of old friends and, since you’ve all grown old together, you recognise each other, have the pleasure of murmuring “bless my soul, Algie’s aged a bit,” whilst being blissfully unaware that you have too.

It gave me the opportunity for a quiet day.  Housework in the morning, a nap in the afternoon and then I cooked.  A model of domesticity, darlings.  Left me with nothing to talk about tonight, mind you.  Could have been a non-blogging day really, but I thought I’d treat myself.

I went to feed the chickens at lunch time.  Poor things, about half of them were standing about disconsolately in the snow, looking bewildered.  They didn’t come to eat their corn.  Two had ventured further and did, and the rest stayed in the hut.

I don’t think I ever finished the story of the Christmas Eve chicken.  I probably mentioned that we’d been given three young bantam cocks and that she has been mothering them.  In view of that, we were quite upset to be told that her owner had been found, because we didn’t want to have to give her back.  However, it was a very sad story so there was, we thought, no alternative.

The father of a young family died suddenly of a heart attack just before Christmas, and it was one of his half-dozen chickens that had got out.  When told about it, we thought that we’d leave talking to the widow until after the funeral, a couple of days later.  However, by the time the Sage went to see her, she had decided that she couldn’t cope with chickens on top of everything else, and had given them to her neighbour.  She was quite happy that we should keep the extra one.  So all is well here, the hen is laying lots of eggs – one almost every day – and has settled in splendidly.

8 comments on “The Sage puts the fun into funeral

  1. Tim

    It’s not true that you don’t have to buy a new outfit for a funeral. Ten or so years ago I discovered, an hour before the shops closed, that after retiring I’d thrown away my last surviving formal suit and had nothing suitable to wear for the next day’s funeral. House of Fraser came to the rescue – I wore it to Sunday’s wedding too!

  2. Z

    I was thinking about women, who often do need to buy a new outfit for a wedding. Obviously, I hadn’t taken into account the actions of men who completely lose their heads when they leave their jobs. Impressive in one way – I do appreciate a wholehearted attitude – but quite insane.

    Oh Macy…

    AQ, she said that the neighbour who took the other hens is keeping her supplied and that we’re welcome to them.


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