Alex's Historical Fiction

Coming home to roost

In the past couple of days much of my strange Tuesday last week has come home to roost.

The foot is feeling a little easier. It's still painful, but in a different way. It no longer feels quite so 'mushy' Perhaps it's shuffling off? I'm slightly hopeful

Yesterday it was my neighbour's funeral. Alf was 94 and had lived in the house next door to us since 1938. Yes, 1938, 67 years. He spent his whole married life there, with Ada, who sadly died a few years back. When we first moved in about 10 years ago, Alf was still taking his wheel barrow across the main road to his allotment. He had to give that up, but still worked in his garden, which, like ours, is rather sloping and difficult move around in. When he gave up his gardening, after pains in his chest, once or twice we saw him dozing in a chair. But not in the back garden. In the front door of the house, catching the late afternoon sun, with people passing by. As his grand-daughter said, he's been reunited with his sweetheart now.

Today, I got a phone call from the classical music shop. Apparently the wages are basic (that'll be minimum wage, then) but that's not put me off. It might be a decent place to work. But I shall find out on Saturday when I go in for an interview. I had actually given up on them, as I hadn't heard, but knew the advert sign had been taken down. Unlike the other shop job I went for a while back (also minimum wage), there will, at least be other staff around. So it'll be safer and not laden with so much responsibility. I don't mind taking on responsibility, but I do expect the wages to reflect it in some way.

posted by Alex Bordessa @ Wednesday, January 11, 2006