Tuesday, 28 February 2017

At The Double








Paul walked to the local shop this morning while the sun was still shining.  I opted to stay at home and do some baking.  The doorbell rang just as I was up to my eyes in flour but I was expecting a parcel so I ran downstairs to answer it.  It was Mr Irish.  Our friendly neighbour doesn’t open his mouth when he speaks and I just find it so difficult to understand his Irish brogue.  He sports a full beard and resembles a short-sighted ferret peering through a hedge.

“’Tis a fine day begorrah mumble mumble mumble ... before you leave?”
“Um, we don’t go for another two weeks.”
“Bejaysus mumble mumble mumble didn’t want to miss you.”
“Don’t worry, we will be sure to see you before we go.”

He is such a sweet neighbour, he furnishes us with old newspapers to take back to France to light our woodburner and lets us fill his dustbin with our rubbish on the day we depart.

When Paul got home we decided to do some Tai Chi with Nancy.  Paul set up his laptop and we got ready to do the nice slow and graceful movements with Nancy.

“This is going too fast.”
“It’s the one we always do.”
“The music isn’t tinkling.”
“I’m sure it’s right.”
“Nancy’s trousers are blowing so fast in the breeze she looks like she’s going to take off.”
“I’ll check it.”
“I can’t keep up with her.”
“Oops, I pressed the wrong switch.”


4 comments:

  1. There is no way my husband would, "Tai Chi" with me and Nancy (or any other woman). That's nice that he does that with you, even if it was the wrong one. Too funny about the neighbour you don't understand! -Jenn

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    1. Paul reminds me of Kung Fu Panda when he's doing Tai Chi, very cute.

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  2. I have an incomprehensible neighbour. He lives in an old caravan in a plastic-sided barn. I imagine he's had a stroke at some time, and is very difficult to understand. I have to do all the talking myself, just to avoid having to ask him to repeat himself.

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