Last week I wrote a letter to the paper, complaining about the cars we saw while walking around the ‘car free’ Devil’s Punchbowl. I wasn’t sarcastic or too grumpy, I simply told it like it was. I finished off by saying, light heartedly, that I wouldn’t bother walking there again.
My letter was included on the Talking Newspaper (they always try to include letters from us because the listeners know us) and I’d like to think they were entertained.
This week I was rostered on for the Haslemere edition. When I turned up, the Presenter for the Farnham edition said I’d had a response. How delightful, I said as I read it. Here’s the letter:
I enjoyed it but was amazed that the threat of being run over was less important than the cost of the parking. Typical, I guess. When I read his letter during my session, I suggested he park on the ‘Quiet Lane’ for free.
As usual, we had a jolly time reading the news, though I had been asked by Tony to keep an ear on one of the readers who has started slipping up in the editing department. Her pieces are too long. He’d had a report from another presenter a few weeks ago and wanted my impressions.
Other than the Talking Newspaper, the rest of the day was spent organising things for China. Paperwork, packing list, some packing, some washing…the usual stuff. I also had to collect the new tax disc for Sidney to make her legal.
This has to be done at the Post Office and generally takes ages because of the crowds of people who still use the PO for everything they do. Today, however, I was in and out in about 10 minutes. Typical. I create a decent buffer and it’s completely unnecessary. Still, it meant I had a longer time in Starbucks.
Back at home, I pottered around a bit, waiting for Mirinda to arrive. She was supposed to get home before me but, as these things usually go, she was held up at work and didn’t arrive until after 6pm. She was looking a bit zonked and very much looking forward to having a bit of a rest in Beijing.
The night was spent packing and making a list for shopping tomorrow morning before watching a couple of episodes of The Mentalist (series 5).
When I put the tax disc in the car, the poodles thought I was driving them somewhere. Naturally they both jumped into the car and waited, expectantly. Poor, puppies. Little do they know that the next time they’re in the car, they’ll be off to the holiday camp.