Early every Monday morning I go for a walk in the local park. I used to go every morning when I had our dog Freddie. As a result I got to know a lot of the other dog walkers and one lady in particular, Shirley, whose dog was rather nervous, not to mention grumpy, and would only tolerate my dog as a companion. Over time, Shirley and I became firm friends, so much so, that when Freddie died, I would still go to the park to walk with Shirley and her dog every morning. A few years ago, Shirley in her 80s broke her hip. Twice. So with a hip replacement and then a replacement's replacement, she now walks with a stick and cannot drive any more. For the last few years, I collect Shirley in my car very early morning on a Monday and drive her and her dog to the park, so she can still exercise a bit and meet up with the dog-walking crowd. On other days she employs a dog-walker.
This morning was a Monday morning like any other. Our walk almost didn't happen, as Shirley and her dog both hate the rain and will cancel in that case, but half an house before I left the house, the skies turned blue and the sun shone, so we set off as usual.
We were halfway into our walk around the park and were just approaching a curve in the lake, when a familiar face came into view. A portly man of about 70 with grey hair sporting a blue Conservative rosette on his lapel. It was our local MP. He made a beeline for us and greeted us with "Good Morning, Ladies". For 20 minutes, we stood and talked, barely a word about politics. A bit about his dogs, his wife, his hip operation and his time serving in the army in Bosnia. It didn't seem appropriate to discuss politics or the antics in Parliament. It was just three people chatting in the park about this and that, as dog-walkers do.
At the end of our long chat, he asked me if I would mind taking a photo of him on his phone with the lake in the background, so he could use it on his blog. I obliged, but his face was in shadow, so his face was not clear. I suggested he move a few yards to the right, where there was a sunny patch and retook the photo. He seemed happy with it, we said our goodbyes and parted in opposite directions. Well that encounter certainly took me by surprise and was never in a month of Sundays what I envisaged when I got up this morning.
5 comments:
I was hoping that when you asked him to change his position for the photo that he would fall into the lake. After all, he's a bloody Tory!
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Teresita is clearly a big fan of "Alcoholic Daze". Her detailed knowledge of it is remarkable.
I'm with Yorkshire Pudding on both counts!
I came here from Yorkshire Pudding. My grandmother was an alcoholic, although I never met her. My brother in law, my son's father, my son, my daughters' father and my present husband, all alcoholics. I read some of your blog dating back to 2008 and it was all so familiar. 2008 was the year I left my ex-husband.
My present husband gave up drinking before I married him. I kicked him out of my home, twice and he quit drinking, something for which I so thankful for. We married three years ago and still sometimes I worry but he has kept his word these past five years and never had a drink.
I hope you don't mind but I'll probably be back and reading your archives. Thank you so much for writing all this down. It helps me.
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