Watching the world go by

I've just seen something very sad. An elderly lady who lives up the street and round the corner, walked past my window. Why is that sad? She didn't have her dog with her. Every morning she has been walking past with her dog, I see her in the street and give the dog a treat, she has had him since he was a puppy. Three weeks ago she had to have him put to sleep, he was developing all sorts of ailments as older dogs do. It wasn't fair to keep him going. Last week I spoke to her, she shed a tear and so did I.

The lady herself has not been well, needing hospital treatment, but she is still a bit shaky on her legs. She walks quite slowly, but at least she is making the effort to get out, walking around the block for the exercise, even without her dog.

Sitting at my table I can glance up from what I am doing and see people passing my window. The same people pass every morning. B walks by, taking Scruff for a walk. A rather portly man goes to the shop for his newspaper. He used to have difficulty walking and was rather nervous about the possibility of falling down, but now he has one of those push along frames on wheels and it's given him a lot of confidence. There's no stopping him now. Mr Z from up the road goes to fetch his paper also. He uses a stick to steady himself, as does another elderly gentleman from across the road as he goes for his paper.

Sometimes a delivery van pulls up and the driver knocks on a neighbours door. I watch to see if anyone answers. If there is no one in I go out and offer to take the parcel in, it saves the driver having to take it back and try again another day. They have enough work to do as it is, with 100 deliveries and collections each day.

We have a man in the village who goes round with a mower cutting people's grass. It is a summer job for him and he has regular customers. Sometimes he walks by my window pushing his mower, sometimes he has it in a barrow if he has to carry other garden tools as well. When he is busy and the grass is growing like crazy he has someone to help him.

I see dog walkers passing my window, they look to see if I am around and give me a wave. Dexter is a beagle, and Bog is a big gangly dog like a wolfhound. Lulu and George come past, and if Charlie the spaniel is in his garden across the road he runs along the fence barking like crazy. Bog doesn't come past very often now. his owner says he doesn't want to walk very far now he is getting on a bit, and is happy to stay in his garden. When I am walking that way I call in and see how he is. Sometimes I see Bailey the poodle going past, or Lady dragging her owner along, ha ha.

On a school day the mums with their little ones pass my window on their way to school. Sometimes the kiddywinks are walking, sometimes they are on their scooters or bikes. All are safety conscious as they are clad in the latest helmets, gloves, and brightly coloured clothing. They rush along ahead of their mum's and are told to wait at the end of the road. The bigger kids walk to the end of the road and wait for the bus to take them to the big school two miles away. They always seem to have their shoulder bags dangling around their knees, must be very uncomfortable, it must be the fashion. I wonder if they have bruised knees. I remember having a satchel to carry my school books about. Mum couldn't afford a nice leather one, I had to have a cheap canvas bag.

I live a few house into a cul de sac, it's a dead end road, so everyone at the bottom end has to come past my house when they come and go. Ha ha, guess who has just come past, J the grass cutting man. He was pushing his mower with one hand and pulling his barrow with the other. He will be trying to get his cutting done while the sun is out, before the rain comes again.

In the afternoon the postman comes along, pulling his cart. We used to get a delivery every morning, but since they re jigged the rounds we get two men coming in a van and they do the whole village of about 1,000 houses. They move the van around and park in several different places, coming back to it to refill their carts.

Very occasionally I look up to see a huge 40 ton truck pass my window, and I know for a fact that the driver will have great difficulty getting out. The turning circle at the bottom end is not really big enough to get round, and they end up churning the grass verge up. Oh, I know their feelings of panic very well. It is usually foreign drivers who make the mistake of coming down here. They are usually following their sat nav. I always rush out to help, and if the driver does not understand the directions I am trying to give him I will get in my car and say follow me, then take them to where they want to be. Some of them are miles away from their delivery point, but as we are surrounded by weight limits it is a bit confusing for them.

There is a mix of all ages around me which is what I like. It's nice to pass the time of day with retired people like myself, and also chat to the young ones when I walk about with dogs or do a litter pick. I see we have some Chinese people recently moved into the village, I think they are relatives of the people who own the Chinese takeaway. They walk backwards and forwards past my house. I don't personally buy food from there, but it does seem quite popular at teatime.

So there is a snippet of village life, the view from my window.

I will sign off now, I have things to do. Before I go, someone asked about Welshcakes. They are made in Narbeth, South Wales, by Tan y Castell Foods, and have sultanas and currants in them. They may be eaten from the pack, or microwaved and served with butter of jam, or you could put cream or ice cream on them. They come six in a pack. Mine is priced at £1.75, I paid just 20p. Here is the link to more information.
Catch you tomorrow. Toodle pip

Adding a PS to this post. On the way out today, in my car, I found the postman and gave him a packet of Welshcakes. I really shouldn't eat two packets anyway. He was chuffed, said he would share with the other postman when they stopped for their break. I was chuffed that he was chuffed.