View From The Window

Go on, hazard a guess, yes it is wet again, a light drizzle this time and according to our weather diviners it is supposed to get better as the day goes on. I can just about make out the windmills but it does look pretty dull over there. The new neighbour has arrived but I have only seen her once, so that is the excitement over for the time being. Washington House is definitely going on the market so it will be interesting what kind of price the Grade II historical building will fetch, to be honest I do not know what kind of person would want it, it needs a lot of work to modernise and has no garden to speak of, not a family home.

Every now and again I find a bag containing large, free-range eggs on my windowsill of a Sunday morning, these are deposited by one of our oldest village residents and ex-paperboy (75) of ours, I have no idea where he gets them but I am one of the lucky recipients of this bounty. When we first came here we received potatoes, tomatoes, cucumbers, bread, fish and the occasional bottle of wine from customers and neighbours, but the demographic in the village has altered over time and this no longer happens apart from the eggs and the odd piece of home smoked Bavarian Ham courtesy of a German lady.

I have had my granddaughter for the past week and have therefore had to indulge in pursuits which are normally alien to me. Our first call was to the cinema to see 'Minions', there were four people sat at the back, Eve and I in the middle and two way down front, in comes a crowd of four and sit right at the back of us, an empty cinema and they sit at the back of someone! WHY! Also one kid had an annoying false laugh which grated on me for over an hour.

Our next port of call was a trip to Morecambe on a beautiful sunny day, we went to a local park which I just knew would be full of ...... people. Happy Mount Park is not on a mount nor is it particularly happy as you fight for space with the great unwashed, we gave up and moved on to the promenade. Here again there is nothing of interest and the small beach was festooned with huge people content to let their kids wallow in mud (the tide was out) while they settled into the sand like hippos.

Thursday was Lake Windermere, another scorching day amongst the crowd, we went on a boat trip where we almost managed to learn Chinese as that was all we heard onboard shouted at the top of their voices by a horde of kids, OK, four kids but it sounded like a horde. No one, including my granddaughter was remotely interested in the boat trip or what the guide attempted to tell us. The small funfair on the lakeside must have thought they were in the Italian Lakes as the prices were on a par with our holiday.

You remember a few weeks ago I was complaining about the lack of plates, well the Village Inn at Windermere takes the biscuit, my fish and chips came in a cage on a slate, it was simply impossible to eat and maintain any dignity. That's it for me, they bring a plate or I walk in future.

'Mary Poppins', along with 'The Wizard of Oz' are two films which I have managed to dodge throughout my life and I have never ever seen them all the way through, until now. I watched the former with Eve and despite its age it was brutal, Dick Van Dyke's cockney accent deserves an award all of its own, dum dililittle dum dillieye. As she was flying in on that umbrella I vainly searched for a 40mm Bofors.

I had my friend Billy down from Scotland yesterday to play a game, he told me he was bringing a 15 year old bottle of Drambuie Liqueur so we could fight in a civilised manner. I poured out two large glassfuls,  we sipped looked at each other and pretended it was lovely, I not to embarrass him and him not to show he had made an expensive mistake. We took some more and I diplomatically informed him I needed some lemonade with mine, he concurred. We had a third gulp, I put the white flag up "Sorry mate this is almost pure whiskey, I can't drink it" he again concurred, and I felt much better, we opened up my bottle of normal Drambuie and tucked in. Perhaps the ageing had taken away the lovely spice and honey taste, it certainly did not pour like a liqueur nor taste like one. In fact I now realise he has left the bottle in my fridge!

 Eureka! I have received a cheque for the wall repair, most unexpected. Has this gesture restored my faith in humanity................ not on your nellie.