Madame Bay phones to inform 'The Font' that there's been an infestation of rats at the supermarket by the roundabout. She goes on to say that she'll be going there on Thursday morning, when it re-opens, to see if there are any bargains. 'The Font' thanks Madame Bay for this news but wonders if it's wise to go back so soon . ' A few rat droppings never harmed anyone ' says Madame Bay with a cheeriness 'The Font' finds hard to match.
Down by the river it's misty and chill. Sophie sprints along enjoying the wonderful weather. She stops at the boat dock to take a long drink. Then, satisfied that it's safe and that I'm close by, she takes a second longer one.
On our way back to The Rickety Old Farmhouse we're delayed by the man in the mechanical digger and the man in the white truck. They've stopped, side by side on the road, to have a 'wee blether'. Their conversation over I finally get underway again and post my letter to the Chairman of Volvo describing my unhappiness with their Omerta style after sales service. This will undoubtedly go straight in the bin but makes me feel as though I've done something positive. I have no idea how much postage a letter to Sweden requires ( when was the last time anyone sent a physical letter ?) so stick three stamps on it and hope for the best. Angus has the belief that a real letter might be such an out of time oddity that someone will open it and take note. I am ever so slightly aware of the fact that writing a grumpy letter is another sign I've turned into my father.
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