Letter to the Editor

I read in the Herald last week that the Christmas windows were ready to make a welcome return to some of Farnham’s windows and, true to their report, it happened sometime over the weekend. The first one I noticed was in the same Waitrose window as last year but, with the lights blazing behind it, it was difficult getting a decent photo. The one at The Optical Studio, though, worked well.

Last year, they had a reindeer and, after a while, it morphed into the beginnings of Spring before it vanished.

The other thing I read in the Herald was my letter about the Remembrance Sunday impatient traffic last week. I read it to Mirinda and she was, firstly, amazed it was quite short for me and, secondly, that being short made it more poignant.

Later, I played the Letters sections of the two Talking Newspaper issues for this week. In the Farnham edition, my letter was read by someone I don’t know, so there was no reason to think she’d mention anything other than my name. And, of course, there’s no longer any chatting, so no-one mentioned me at all.

In the Alton edition, however, Nina read my letter and she gave me a lovely introduction. She also read my letter beautifully. Well, I thought so, anyway.

While that was rather nice, the weather was not. The lady who told me I was always stylish asked me if I had far to walk this morning. She was holding a bright yellow umbrella while I was not holding any umbrella. It wasn’t raining and, in fact, hadn’t rained at all.

I said I only had another street to go. I didn’t bother telling her how I feel about umbrellas. I did wonder though, a little later, where she thought I was going to hold it: I was pulling my shopping trolley with one hand and holding my walking stick in the other. Maybe I could have strapped one to my back or had one like Nicktor’s hat-o-brella.

Suffice it to say, it didn’t rain until I was back at home. Then it didn’t stop.