I often wonder why, and I often wonder whether to believe it.
But let’s suppose it’s true. In that case, I’m then tempted to wonder what
people to whom English is a foreign language make of the various writing
styles I use. (Do they appreciate, for example, the nuances and mood variations
thus implied?) And after that, I wonder what they make of me. Oddly, the former
matters much more to me than the latter. I don't worry unduly about my reputation except when it serves some useful purpose.
But today I made a new friend in Sainsbury’s, and together
we helped the lady with the foreign accent find the Eccles cakes. You wouldn’t
think that somebody with a foreign accent would ever have heard of Eccles
cakes, would you? Maybe she’d become a fan of The Goon Show and thought they’d be a passport to laughter. She did
seem a little nonplussed when I expressed a preference for Chorley
cakes.
Anyway, the new friend and I discussed our shared vegetarian
tendency, and when we parted she said ‘It was nice talking to you.’ Was it? I
wonder. I trust so little these days.
* * *
I’ve been having difficulty finding subject matter for the
blog recently. I wonder whether anybody has noticed.
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