The Lady in the Red Car
Hello dear reader and welcome to another day at Comb Towers. I hope I find you well and in good spirits, ready and raring to go on this fine morning. It is nearly spring and I am looking forward to getting out into the garden and clearing up the detritus the ravages of winter has left behind, not to mention the mess the birds have made, guddling about for insects in the gravel and tossing stones about willy nilly, without a care in the world. The blackbirds are the worst in the borders, tossing soil and leaves on to the lawn as they search for food. I can forgive them as watching a blackbird take a bath is one of the best sights in the world. They are so enthusiastic as they conduct their ablutions, no feather is left unwashed and water flies everywhere. But I digress … I am here to talk about the lady in the red car.
For some weeks now, a mysterious woman in a red car has been tooting and waving at Spouse if their paths cross anywhere in the village. Mysteriously, I am never with my spouse when these events occur. He says and who am I to disbelieve him, that she is very attractive and drives a very handsome, sporty car.
Mmm, who is this woman? I have no idea but she’s done Spouse’s ego no end of good. You will have read, dear reader, of Spouse’s lack of sartorial elegance and that is putting it mildly. On occasions I have seen better looking tramps. On reflection, perhaps that is a little too harsh but you will get my drift. He is a Yorkshireman, born and bred and he is going to get every ounce of wear from his clothing, to the point where I judge the garment is at the end of its life and I have to steal it away and quietly dispose of it. Talk about taking the shirt off his back - yes, I have great difficulty doing that too.
However, back to the lady in the red car. In days of yore he would wander up to the village high street in slightly shabby clothing, but now … he raids the wardrobe and drawers for some of his nicest clothes … that only see the light of day on high days and holidays. And what a smart haircut he has had. Talk about the new, improved version! I don’t know who the lady is but she’s doing him a power of good. If I could find out who she is I’d shake her hand and thank her profusely. Perhaps I’m going to have up my game too to keep up ….
A week passes… and here is the latest update on the situation!
Oh my, my dear reader. I am adding to this blog one week on and I have NEWS. After weeks and weeks of Spouse’s village meanderings and coming home like a dog with two tails, strutting like a peacock after having been tooted and waved at by his lady friend, I have finally got to the bottom of the matter. And it is not good news.
Well, it is for me but not for him. I could hardly bear his crestfallen face when I shared my new information with him. For once, I accompanied him on his walk along our little high street and sure enough, a sporty car came zooming by, with a lady tooting and waving from behind the wheel. Believe me, dear reader, I paid very close attention and yes, guess what? I knew the little lady! It was my friend Joan who lives around the corner. We attend the same arts fairs, me with my books, etc. and Joan with her hand-knitted soft toys and I’ve got to tell you, dear reader, they are just so beautiful.
Joan, unbeknown to us, has invested in a sporty little four-wheeled number and darts about all over the place in it and of course, knowing Spouse, tooted and waved when she saw him. Only, I think his eyesight is a bit iffy, although he does wear glasses for driving, but on foot, it’s a different matter. He did not recognise her.
Talk about raining on his parade. Maybe I shouldn’t have told him and burst his bubble. It did him the world of good to imagine he had an admirer. So, if I want this new version of Spouse to continue, I think I will have to recruit someone new to wave and toot and smile gaily at him. Now I just need to find that someone ….
