" Losing their grip? Grey patches? Becoming rickety?" A bit like old dither. "Collapsing in a heap"? "Between the posts" Oh dear, he hopes not.
The sun shining on the window of the spare room suddenly felt warm, maybe he's going through the male menopause. In his 60s? He Didn't think so. Does that "really" happen? I mean, men ? Hot flushes? The mind boggles. Well, "his" mind does.
A Wood Pigeon close by was cooing for all he was worth, a Song Thrush burst into song and dusk was fast approaching. It'll be getting dark soon. Must try to get my arse into gear and go out for some fresh air tomorrow he thought to himself. He thought that yesterday. Oh well................
Never did cut that chestnut tree down either, one weekend, maybe? He pours the remaining few drops from a 2ltr bottle of Taurus Pear, makes ready for bed,
and another quite unremarkable uneventful day draws to a close.
Monday, Bank holiday / May day Monday, he rose at around 8.00, put the kettle on and that mug of strong sweet tea hits so many spots all at once. Ohhhhhh man, heaven.
A plate of yesterday's dinner re-heated in the microwave and eaten and Turmeric capsule swallowed. Just another food fad? Maybe? But Turmeric seems to be attracting a good press right now and what does he have to lose? Apart from his aches and pains. All washed down with a mug of coffee, and he's ready, well, as ready as he'll ever be, to face another day. Determined to go out he pours himself a mug of Crumpton's apple, turns on the hot tap in the bath, savours a nice cool glug, and chills for a while.
That blue mat still hangs out next door and the weather-vane at the top of the garden, old plastic carrier-bag caught up in the branches of a tree tells him that there's a wind blowing, but the sun is shining so he's up for going out.
Dandelions and daisies on the village green. Cherry blossom lies in small drifts and is tossed around like yesterday's confetti by a stiff breeze that endures, and a May day celebration;
Well, he did finally get himself into gear and took a gentle stroll up to his local Costcutters. He didn't want much nor was he really "up for much", just a few items including milk so a newspaper would do for now and he'd call back later. So, having found a sheltered spot with a public bench on the green, he got out his newspaper and made the best of the sunshine and a small bar of chocolate. He doesn't do sweets, never did really, but chocolate, ohhhh yes.
Looking up from his paper he could see people congregating in the car park over the road, vans were being unloaded, and they were coming his way. Whatever, he thought.
Soon they were getting busy just a few meters away from where he was sitting. Small tents were springing up. A woman was casting white sheets over other benches on the green close to where he was sitting. Point taken and as he ambled down the pathway back towards the High Street Bunting was being draped along the railing fence that encircled the green. A transit van towing a trailer with a sign on the side that said Boy Scouts pulled up and a couple, a man and a woman, dressed in those old familiar khaki uniforms began to unload stuff from the trailer.
Do people really do that nowadays? It all seems so "olde worlde" to him but hey! No harm done he supposes, beats the hell out of substance abuse. Don't know why he thought of that, it's just the way he sees things.
He silently wished them luck and hoped that the weather would be kind to them as he made headed back to Costcutters and made his way home.