Life lives on. The Valley has had its share of freezing, windy, inclement, dreich days. We’ve also had days of deep essential colours, hopefulness (which in this context means something like ‘Springyness’) gentle breezes and wandering wombats.
I spoke to one such wombat in the early hours of the morning last week. He/she/they/it/them/thy/thee stopped still and looked at me as if to say ‘it’s 4 in the morning! What are you doing here? I gave a ‘good point’ salute and returned to bed.
Meanwhile, the river beckons. “C’mon,” it says, sparkling the sun’s reflections all over like a mirage in the desert. But jump in at your peril. Unless your peril appreciates numb extremities.
But while we wait for an honest promise from the river, we have wattles and every other goodness knows what, blooming everywhere.
If you can resist getting your hands in the dirt, you’re stronger than I am.
Q and A for Dr Honeyroll:
Dear Dr Honeyroll,
As a woman in her 90’s living independently in my own home of 72 years, I have a problem for which I seek your advice.
My neighbour who previously worked as a home economics teacher brings me her leftover meals. The meals which she kindly provides are both uninspiring in looks and taste.
When I protested that she really did not need to trouble herself, she assured me she was happy to provide them occasionally as the family often don’t eat it and previously would have fed it to the dog as she hates wasting food. Her dog died of food poisoning recently.
What should I do?
Concerned.
Reply: Dear Concerned
Do not accept food from strangers. Specifically, neighbours with economics degrees and recently deceased dogs. It ought to be a law.
Or if you, as you may well, feel ever so slightly afraid of the possible adverse reaction from rejecting said neighbour’s food, accept with aplomb, without showing the whites of your eyes. Then bin it immediately (perhaps burying is better – bearing in mind the downstream recipients of binned food).
The core issue here, I feel, is how to continue to live side by side with such a person.
Can you keep up what I presume has been a façade of friendliness? And if so, for how long?
How many buried or binned offerings can you foresee? An ongoing need for subterfuge may not be your cup of tea. Though, inviting her in for a cup of tea every time she delivers her meals, may be one solution. Play her at her own game. Hint at possible dubious origins of the proffered cuppa just as (or only shortly after) she’s taken a sip.
Alternatively, you could accept that most neighbours are foibled and wing it day by dubious meal day. No matter who or when or from or why or how or …(insert your modalities), neighbours are folk. Folk are infinitely capable of awfulness. Any folk contending otherwise needs a good sit down.
Yours…..
