The tortoise has emerged from its hiding place, and it's a sign that spring is far from here. The cold rain continues to fall outside, but the rapid overnight thaw has brought the unwanted visitor into our lives. Our slow-moving friend was last spotted wallowing in his usual spot under the sofa, where he remains for months on end.
The arrival of the tortoise is not an isolated incident; it's a harbinger of spring, which brings with it the familiar sounds and smells of warmer weather. As we settle into this new season, so too do the dung men, who ring our doorbell with their bi-annual offerings of farmyard manure.
These vendors are an enigma, with one of them preferring to keep a low profile while his companion regales us with tales of his ailments and personal life. We prefer to deal with him directly, as it allows for some much-needed human interaction amidst the chaos of spring. However, our wife has taken a more hands-off approach, relying on our ringing her to alert her to these unexpected visitors.
The meeting with the manure men was a routine one, with us offering them tea and engaging in small talk about life's ups and downs. But as we delved deeper into conversation, it became clear that the real story lies not with us, but with their vendor – who seems to be having a rough time, battling illness and undergoing tests.
As the meeting drew to a close, our wife returned home, only to be greeted by an update from us about the vendor's latest struggles. The conversation was laced with humor, as we reflected on his well-documented health issues, including the recent diagnosis of the same ailment that has kept him in and out of hospital all summer.
The meeting itself had been a brief respite from the usual chaos, but one that ultimately served as a reminder that even amidst the tranquility of our home, life continues to ebb and flow with its own rhythm. The price tag for this tranquility? A hefty sum that we've yet to discuss – still too soon, it seems.
The arrival of the tortoise is not an isolated incident; it's a harbinger of spring, which brings with it the familiar sounds and smells of warmer weather. As we settle into this new season, so too do the dung men, who ring our doorbell with their bi-annual offerings of farmyard manure.
These vendors are an enigma, with one of them preferring to keep a low profile while his companion regales us with tales of his ailments and personal life. We prefer to deal with him directly, as it allows for some much-needed human interaction amidst the chaos of spring. However, our wife has taken a more hands-off approach, relying on our ringing her to alert her to these unexpected visitors.
The meeting with the manure men was a routine one, with us offering them tea and engaging in small talk about life's ups and downs. But as we delved deeper into conversation, it became clear that the real story lies not with us, but with their vendor – who seems to be having a rough time, battling illness and undergoing tests.
As the meeting drew to a close, our wife returned home, only to be greeted by an update from us about the vendor's latest struggles. The conversation was laced with humor, as we reflected on his well-documented health issues, including the recent diagnosis of the same ailment that has kept him in and out of hospital all summer.
The meeting itself had been a brief respite from the usual chaos, but one that ultimately served as a reminder that even amidst the tranquility of our home, life continues to ebb and flow with its own rhythm. The price tag for this tranquility? A hefty sum that we've yet to discuss – still too soon, it seems.