Ten Women in One Day.

There’s been nothing to write about to this blog for three days. Well, there probably has, but none of it seemed interesting enough to bother. Tonight, however, I realised that today has been a Ten Women Day. To explain:

I went off to the churchyard (14^th century, just to impress the colonials) for lunch, the weather being calm, sunny and rather pleasant, and spoke to six women in the course of so doing – two on the way out (including Cassie the dog,) two on the way back, and two in the churchyard. I said ‘hello’ to the pair in the churchyard, but they only smiled back. I assume they were foreigners who didn’t know what the English for ‘hello’ was.

And whilst walking along Church Lane, I took to pondering the fact that my mother outlived all three husbands. I also pondered something she said to me once: she told me I must always be respectful to women. I didn’t actually need any telling, but she obviously thought I did.

‘I remember how you looked at that girl in the fairground in Great Yarmouth,’ she continued. ‘Just like your father!’ Oh. ‘Just imagine how you’d feel if a man was disrespectful to your sister.’

‘I don’t have a sister.’

‘I know that, but if you did…’

That’s seven.

Then I spent most of the evening engrossed in interesting reading matter provided by Andrea, followed by the latest instalment of Madeline’s archaeological discoveries. Tonight’s major discovery was a groovy rock. I expect it was looking for fun, it being a New York rock an’ all.

That’s nine.

But then there was the pièce de resistance:

Zoe is to be an elf on Halloween, and not just any old elf, but the one who marries the hero and learns about mortality. That elf! She has the credentials.