A sack of potatoes, a lovely surprise and a puzzle.

I’ve got an odd mixture for you today. I thought this was the weather for a miscellany, as it doesn’t seem able to make up its mind whether to grill us brown or drown us. There won’t be any pictures with it, I’m afraid, because my grand-daughter/amanuensis is away on holiday, so it’s not quite the mixture as usual. But here goes. I’m going to start with the surprise, because it was a lovely one.

I had to go into the doctor’s surgery last week for my annual diabetic check-up and I’d arranged to see the one doctor in the practice I still know. There are lots of new names nowadays and I’d rather see someone  I know. She was patient and thorough as always and seemed fairly pleased with how I was handling the diabetes. And in the middle of the consultation, a pretty girl in a uniform I didn’t recognise came into the room looking for a form, which she found very quickly. Then, to my surprise, she turned to speak to me.

‘I’m really enjoying your book,’ she said. ‘If I’d known you were coming  in this morning I’d have brought it in and asked you to sign it.’

I told her I was glad to hear it, which was putting it mildly. and then I asked her which book it was.

To my considerable surprise, it was ‘Citizen Armies’ the new book that was published just a week ago and she’d bought it from Amazon. ‘ I like a book, she said. ‘I like to hold it in my hands.’

I told her she’d made my day. I could have hugged her. That was a surprise and a half.

Then a few days later I stumbled on an enigma and reached for my deerstalker. I keep the occasional eye on visitors to this blog, partly to see what interests my readers and partly because I’m vain and like to see how many people read it. That morning,  I’d had six visits and one person had looked at three rather particular old sites, the Latest news on Blake’s Cottage, Who remembers Violet Elizabeth Bott? and an analysis of how the three man triumvirate who now own the cottage had set up their Blake Cottage Trust in the first place and been given the bulk of the money to buy it. That’s a curious mixture and very particular, because it’s someone who is interested in the state of the cottage, and in the way it was bought and in an analysis of a spoilt brat.  The blog about the spoilt brat has been visited by one person on quite a few occasions over the past few months along with another one about what makes a bully, and that’s been making me wonder. And now this. It’s just possible that someone will read this blog and think,’That was me’. If it was, could you sent me a message and tell me. I’d really like to know. There’s a story behind this and my nose is twitching.

And the sack of potatoes? I haven’t forgotten it. How could I? That was me, walking along the corridor from my study and suddenly falling flat on my face like the proverbial sack. I was a bit stunned for a moment or two and lay where I was feeling giddy and unable to get up. My daughter was in the garden repairing the shed and I knew she would come in sooner or later. Which she did, so I was soon rescued and no bones broken. And I can’t say my life is dull because it’s full of unexpected things.

What next I wonder?

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