During various house-sitting stints I have been asked to comply with the following:
‘Can you please go next door and mix Lady Turner’s canary food first thing each morning? I do that for her. She’s practically blind and can’t see to get it the right consistency – dampish crumble mix.’
Righto.
‘Please let the cat watch as much as possible of The Horse of the Year Show. She’s also quite keen – but not so much – on the flat racing.’
Righto.
‘Just FYI, we have a Blessing Stone in the garden which is, by order of the council, open for the public to view. Pilgrimage, sort of idea. Marks Ley lines that run all the way to Glastonbury, it’s said. But then, when do Ley lines ever not run directly to Glastonbury? Either engage with the pilgrims or not, as you feel in the moment.'
Righto.
‘Marian, opposite, tries to involve us in going over her silver inventory with her, witnessing. She keeps accusing her cleaner (with her for nearly twenty years, we think) of stealing. We think it’s best for us not to get involved, but you are free to decide for yourself.’
Righto.
‘Do you mind awfully singing to Rudolf pug? He would love something bright and jolly to start his day, I know – “Oh, what a Beautiful Morning”, possibly? And then something calming at bedtime, such as the Brahms “Wiegenlied”. And as Rudolf is so, so erudite, please sing that in the original German.'
Righto.
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