Another death and a thank you present.

Teddy wakes me up by jumping on the bed from the armchair by the window, that he has adopted as his bed, disdaining the basket on the floor that I provided for him. Norman in the spirit of musical beds set by Ted, has spent the night in Teddy's bed. I suspect Normy has mixed views about our house guest, on the one hand he disrupts his routine, which he doesn't like, on the other, Teddy always tends to save some of his food for later, which Norman takes as a bonus. It is dry outside, but still fairly grey and when I make my way into the kitchen and put on the radio, the announcer says it is a quarter to seven. I fry the last two kipper fillets for my breakfast and pour the dogs some Bakers, before adjourning to the Garden Room to listen to the news and read the paper over coffee. It is Poppy Seed Cafe day today, and after ringing Felicity see if she is going to make it, I shower and dress and then knock up a vegetarian chile and leave it to simmer in the slow cooker, before setting off to take the dogs around the fields. After yesterday's downpour there are large puddles everywhere again, and the easterly wind is back, so it feels very cold. At the bottom of Carr Lane we turn left and walk alongside "Almost straight wood", in order to avoid the first fifty feet or so of the path that runs through it, which will be very muddy. It starts to rain again and it is cold and unpleasant, driven by the bitter easterly wind, so it is a relief to gain the shelter of the trees, when we eventually cut into the plantation. Teddy reminds me of Louis, and vice versa, he is indomitably cheerful, fearless and full of energy, dashing about in search of something to chase. In the far distance I can see another walker coming towards us and as we approach each other, I recognise a spaniel that belongs to a woman who lives round the corner from the cul de sac in which I live. She is very friendly and as we are quite close to the other end of the wood, we turn tail and walk back with her. Her daughter is at the High School and she works as a teaching assistant at the village school, she soon tells me that her husband is taking her shopping for a birthday present, so I wish her many happy returns, but she laughs and tells me her birthday was last Monday, and, as they both work, this is the first opportunity they have had to go shopping. As a long term local, she is also plugged into the local news and tells me the farmer's wife has lost ten chickens over the last month and when I tell her about my "ginger biscuit dusty fox", she says that a minx is suspected, as the birds have been taken individually and a fox would have killed the lot in one go. We part company at the end of my drive and the dogs and I return to the warmth of the kitchen, where I dry them off with an old towel, that I left warming on the radiator. Norman doesn't accompany me when I set off for the Poppy Seed, as I have tasked him to baby sit Teddy and make sure that I have a house to come back to. The rain stops as I park the car down Norwood and then walk to the cafe, past Saint Mary's church, where the bells are ringing out for a wedding. Felicity is sat at our usual table and by the time I have removed my coat, a waitress has brought me a teapot of strong, hot tea. Second to arrive is Hanne, bearing photographs of her recent holiday to the highlands of Anatolia, Felicity and I express surprise that she didn't manage to sort out the Syrian Crisis, whilst she was in the area. Hanne has robust, no nonsense, Scandinavian, organising ability, but she is also very kind. She is followed by Annie, who has been driven into town by her daughter, Sarah, Barbara, then Jill, followed by Sylvia and finally Joy, Fliss' sister. In the end we have to combine two tables to fit everyone round, without exception, everyone asks about Norman and then laugh when I tell them he is baby sitting. Around half past eleven, Felicity asks if I will fetch the car and run her home, as she is starting to flag. She seems to lose a little strength with each passing week, so I walk back to Norwood and then drive round the one way circuit and park outside the cafe, but when I try to open the passenger door to let her in, it is blocked by a black cast iron bollard, so I have to get back in the car, restart the engine and move it a foot, in order to open the door. This prompts some angry hoots from the drivers behind me, but they stop hooting when they see that I am collecting a rather infirm old lady. Rather than go round the one way system again, we take the longer route, through the Bar and then down Newbald Road across the Westwood to Walkington and come back past the site of the old Broadgates hospital, where Felicity and Hanne used to work, and then over the Westwood to Albert Terrace. Nobody in Beverley loves the Westwood as much as Fliss, and in bad weather her opportunity to visit it is severely limited, so she relishes the short excursion. Although it is an extra four miles, it is probably just as quick as driving round town, because of the market day traffic. On my way home, I call at Morrisons to shop, buying some more kippers and smoked salmon from the fish counter before making my way to the bread counter to see if they have restocked with German rye bread, I am still out of luck, but on a trolley with stuff that has been discounted because it is close to its sell buy date, I find two Sicillian Aubergines for 25p as opposed to the £1:60 that they usually retail for, and a packet of tortillas at half price, that can be turned into Tacos and Nachos to accompany my chile. A couple of white, porcelain, fruit bowls also catch my eye, as well as some breaded haddock fillets. I have decided on fish and chips for lunch. The boys are waiting for me when I return and the house feels quite cold, the central heating automatically cuts off at nine, unless I override it. So after switching it on again and putting on the oven for lunch, I unpack the shopping and then put two haddock fillets in the oven to cook, adding some frozen chips after five minutes, as they take less time to cook. The oven soon warms the kitchen and the dogs have a lunch of Bakers and I settle down to eat my haddock chips, garden peas, tea and bread and butter. Afterwards I transform my discounted tortillas into tacos by brushing them with olive oil, into which I have stirred some chile and garlic paste, before folding them and placing them on a tray, in the still hot oven. While they are cooking, I try to check my email, but BT broadband has thrown its usual weekend wobbler again. After lunch, spring cleaning continues, today it is the turn of the front room and particularly the wall unit, which has accumulated numerous books , magazines and general junk. Once this is restored to order I return to the kitchen where I peel, slice and salt the two large Aubergines, before pressing them in a collander to remove the bitter juices. The doorbell rings and I open it to find my next door neighbour, Kath, holding a silver bag containing a bottle of wine. She tells me a lady rang my doorbell but when I didn't answer, asked Kath to give me the present. It has a label attached with a note and when I read it, it is from Marion Bean, a lady who fell on the ice on the Westwood, who I assisted last month. She must have driven all the way from Beverley to give it to me, so I shall have to get her phone number and thank her for the gift, which is a nice bottle of Australian red wine and will accompany the lamb that I intend to eat after my Lenten fast. The Tigers are not playing today, their match against Burnley has been rescheduled to Monday evening in order to accommodate Sky TV, but all of their promotion rivals have either lost or drawn, so a draw would put us back to second. Before darkness falls, I take the dogs for their evening walk round the village, it is a foul night, wet and cold and Norman is less than enthusiastic but Teddy, as usual, is raring to go. As we walk past a hedge, Teddy jerks the lead and plunges among the lower branches, emerging with a small dove clamped firmly between his jaws, it is dead before I can release it and must have been sheltering from the wind and rain. Once it is dead, he loses all interest and so I am able to lay it to rest among the roots of some trees. Dogs and cats are only affectionate with animals bigger than themselves and I can hardly condemn Ted for an instinctual response, but nevertheless it saddens me. Once we are back indoors and everyone is dry again, I make a pot of tea and some cheese and tomato sandwiches, then we sit in our newly clean and made over lounge, where I read my book. At a quarter to eight Sarah phones to tell me that her Grandmother died around midnight, it was only a matter of time and at least she didn't suffer for too long. Tomorrow is Mother's Day and Sarah is going to see her mum and take a present and some flowers, but doesn't think that Pip will feel up to going out for a meal. We go to bed at ten and I say a prayer for Huby Nana, she would have been eighty five on the thirteenth of April.