So, here’s to my final Starbucks for a while. They’ve returned to wearing masks behind the perspex screens. I can’t abide it. This morning, there were masks aplenty. I felt like a pariah. I don’t have to. I go to Starbucks before shopping because I feel welcome and I enjoy seeing them. When it ceases being an enjoyment, I don’t see the point. I’ll not be back for a while.
Apart from that, I had quite a pleasant, chatty walk in and out of Farnham.
On the way home, a man accosted me, asking if I was Gary. I said yes, with a query in my voice. He said he was Robert. From Talking Newspaper. After these few words I realised I knew the voice. We shook hands. I thought I’d never met him, but I guess I have. Maybe at the studio in days gone by.
Then, the old chap I see most mornings walking along the path, stopped and asked how I was going. He wondered how I was, given I had to manoeuvre with a stick. I assured him I was fine, saying I was happy I could still walk, stick or no. Much better off than people who couldn’t.
He nodded sagely when I said I am always relieved there are people worse off than me.
Back at home, it was the last day for the gardeners for this year. An almost tearful Dave left us with Christmas and New Year wishes. We gave him a bottle of wine (which we do every year) and he was very touched. It was as if he was never coming back.
I suggested to Mirinda that perhaps he’s leaving but didn’t want to tell us. She said that if he was leaving, he’d definitely tell us. It would be the boss he wouldn’t tell.
They left the garden nice and tidy. Rest assured that it won’t stay that way for very long.
