Miss Puddleduck was describing the social dynamics of Brownies, which she attends weekly and enjoys. She said about one particular young lady there that she is very loud and a bit pushy. So she doesn’t spend much time with her anymore. Allegedly, Miss Puddleduck has a new best friend instead. I asked who her new best friend at Brownies is – bear in mind that every friend Miss Puddleduck has, wears the honoured badge of being called her best friend.
“Oh! The one with the eyes.” She replied.
I’ve run out of my usual shampoo. I borrowed some of Tim’s. He came home for lunch and noticed straight away.
“You look like a dandelion.” He said. “It looks as if I could blow your hair and it would fly away.”
I’m off out to buy my usual shampoo.
I was waiting to pay for some bits and bobs I wanted to give as birthday presents (not shampoo) and while standing in the queue overheard an elderly lady using the word lovely. She was exhausting and wasting the word in conversation with another elderly lady.
“We’re staying in a place called Llanddulas. It’s lovely”, she was saying. “We’ve got a lovely caravan. It looks out to sea and every hour or so a lovely little train goes past. There’s the main road behind the caravan and there are always cars going along it. It’s lovely. There’s always something going on. But on Monday night…the wind!”
At that point I moved forward to pay. From her Birmingham accent encased description, I am struggling to visualise Llanddulas static caravans as an idyllic seaside holiday resort sandwiched between the railway line and A55, but I am glad she found it all rather lovely. I don’t know Birmingham well enough to compare but have a hunch that Llanddulas is lovely by comparison, trains and trunk road included.