Definite feelings of paranoia yesterday. I was quietly minding my own business, making my way peaceably down the lawn in front of Tremough House to walk back to my car, when halfway down looking up from admiring the Primrose Path (there’s another story there) I realised that a large crowd of people had stopped at the bottom of the slope and were all standing looking towards me with cameras and binoculars.
This threw me into a dilemma: did I carry on boldly, breezily unaware, or did I bolt back up the slope in a guilty fashion? Emboldened by something, lunch maybe, I continued and tried not to think about how I was walking, and made it safely to the bottom without slipping up in the mud. It was spoilt at the last moment though when I made a wrong step and stood heavily in a muddy puddle. Fortunately, the crowd didn’t seem to have noticed. Binoculars and cameras were trained on Tremough House. I felt a little deflated that that was the object of attention. Probably just as well, I’m not the right kind of figure for an object of observation.
Sadly, the muddy puddle finished off finally my loyal pair of boots. There’s really no hope for them now, and as I write they are lying on the floor covered in mud with the holes that I’d been ignoring now painfully obvious. I think it’s really time to let them go. And I have seen a very nice pair in the shoe shop in town. Time for a little essential shopping. I think I can justify it as I sacrificed one of my Chalet School books on eBay the other day. A first edition hardback, with dust wrapper which in collector’s terms is as good as it gets. I have a small collection of them, and when times get tough I sell a couple, and buy them back when times are good. I do also read them, books could never be just a commodity.
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