Sometimes life here borders on the surreal.
Tracey and I divided the jobs up tonight rather than working together as usual, we felt that if we missed out our quality time together mucking out the horses we might finish the evening rounds early and sit down to a leisurely cooked dinner rather than one bolted on the hoof.
As we are also keeping tabs on the Technohermit by giving him two cooked meals a week it fell to me to deliver his share of the delicious chicken stew to his lair before I could finally sit down and eat mine.
I was late but he was happy to see me, pleasantries were exchanged, he was keeping dry, having trouble with his feet though which he offered to show me. Having seen more than I would have wanted to of his anatomy when I surprised him on the hill crouched in the bracken last summer it was an offer I could refuse.
I asked if there was anything I could get him from town. Well there was but he didn't think I would go to those sort of shops. My mind did somersaults trying to work out what sort of shops he would use that I wouldn't, was there a specialist hermit shop?
"What do you need?" I asked
"Well." He scratched his bristles on his chin "I don't suppose you go to Ashbys"
The name didn't ring as bell but it sounded like a shop that sold useful things hermits might hoard like anything shiny, or mantraps.
"Its in the High Street."
He meant the supermarket, so I look like someone who doesn't use supermarket, must be the sheath knife.
"What can I get you"
"Well its on special offer I believe!
"What is"
"Big like this they are" he held his hands apart like a fisherman boasting.
"What are?"
"Hard to carry on the bike"
"What are?"
"Bottles"
"Bottles?"
"Yes can you get me some?"
"What?"
"Coca Cola"
Cant beat the real thing I thought as I wandered back down the lane.
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