Other Ashbourne Notes.

So let me see, what else was notable about Ashbourne today? Well, there’s…

a) Being at the start of the long summer school holidays, the place was awash with kiddies. They were everywhere – taking up toilet space, littering the lanes, and polluting the pathways. Even the dogs were staying close to the feet of their humans for fear of having their tails pulled or their ears trodden on.

I have a problem with kids. I always want to stop and talk to them, but it isn’t allowed any more. I might have the mind of a 5½-year-old, but I look rather older, and males who look older than 5½ mustn’t talk to strange kids unless the kid speaks first and the parent is no more than three feet away. I understand and respect the reason, but it’s still a shame.

b) The billboards for the local newspaper carried the headline Body Found in Wood. I wondered whether such a headline might apply to me one day, since I can think of few nicer environments from which to depart this mortal realm than a wood.

c) This troublesome tooth which seems determined to fall apart has lost a few more bits of enamel and left a small cavity. Accordingly, I called in at the dentist’s to see whether I could arrange an assignation with the incomparable Medeea. Seems not; she’s so popular that she’s booked solid until the end of September, so I was given an appointment with the hygiene therapist instead. I didn’t even know there was any such thing as a hygiene therapist, but it seems I’m about to meet one for the very first time. And isn’t it annoying when you find something rare and precious, only to have to share it with hundreds of other people?

d) The girl at the supermarket checkout had the most unusually piercing light blue eyes. It occurred to me that she might have foreign ancestry, and my interest was sufficiently piqued to ask her about it. I decided not to when it further occurred to me that her knowledge of English vocabulary might be no more advanced than the bakery girl’s knowledge of fancy American pastries, and that the statement ‘I should very much like to be made privy to your antecedents, my dear’ might get a chap into serious trouble.