A wealth of pleasant memories.
Last Tuesday afternoon I drove my white mechanical pony for extra exercise in the cold but sunny fresh air; later well before anyone else arrived at St.George's church I unlocked the Vestry door as usual, only to have a bat knock off my hat. That reminded me of an occasion when I was four years old, a bat flying around my bedroom, I must have screamed because my Father ran into the room, saw the problem and grabbed the small material bag where I kept my night dress during the day; he managed to catch it inside the bag and took it away.
The next day I saw said bag on the washing line, I ran to Daddy's workshop and told him to throw the bag away.
A few years later when he came home on leave from the RAF, he showed me how to polish the copper pipes in the engine of the Vauxhall car which had been slightly raised off the garage floor with wooden 4x4's to protect the tires. A few weeks later I looked for the polishing rags, only to find them in my now rather dirty night dress bag!
How on earth can I remember such a rather stupid experience, then a few hours after breakfast I can not think of what I had eaten in the morning!
With me, the fibre of old age is Tea and chat!! That is what happened yesterday, I invited the new owner of the apartment above me. A pleasant widow who lived in a fair sized modern bungalow on the next street.
Now time for a fresh cup of Earl Grey tea! Before WW I my Father opened up the Ceylon tea plantation where the same tea is still grown today. It is just by chance that it is my favourite.
Suzanne
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