Dearest Em,
As you know Grumpa and I tend not to agree on the idea of keeping chickens. As of yet, I have not managed to persuade him- and therefore delight in telling this story at any given opportunity.
I was standing in Sainsburys when the phone rang. It was Grumpa calling from Lifeboat practise to say he was on his way home.
"I bought a chicken f...." At this point I was interrupted by chastisement.
"Good grief- at least we should have discussed this."
"I just thought i...
Again the interruption "You always do this. It's always what you want, without any consideration for me."
I was rather bewildered at this point- as up to the previous Sunday a roast chicken, with all the trimmings had been going down a treat.
As I opened and closed my mouth and headed for the veg section, Grumpa lived up to his nick-name and I held the phone away from my ear. Eventually the white noise subsided enough for me to cut in.
"Do you fancy broccoli with it?"
There was a stunned silence. Not to my ears normal, as broccoli is nectar of the Gods to Grumpa.
"Carrots then, perhaps?"
The phone went dead. I was confused.
When he called again- a mixture of sheepishness and post-helpless giggles, he told me that the crew had been watching this outburst, and he was trying to live it down- without success.
I wonder if it would have been the opposite conversation had I been actually buying a real live chicken for a desired hen-house. Once I'd stopped laughing, and thinking "God did that" I paid for my purchases and considered visiting a neighbouring farm.
As yet, I haven't carried out this plan.
In the mean-time, back at Norton Green, the little Red Hen's run wild and free across the road and back again. Here's one of them.
Good-night for now Em,
See you in Norton Green soon- I shall introduce you to the chickens!
Your ever-loving Grand-mother,
GiGi xxxx
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