Local Colour

The one thing about selling eggs and potatoes is that local people have to come to you. Like any small community there always seems a surfeit of characters popping in and out of the cottage and field.
Most of the visitors are very Welsh and many elderly, so they always seem to have time for a chat about all sorts.
Today Mrs A popped in with a rather upsetting story of gum disease and tooth decay.( she always has a dozen eggs and 2 lbs of spuds ). Mrs Jones (almost totally deaf and the spit of Geraldine McEwan, from tv's Marple) tottered down for eggs, spuds and some thrown in lettuce. She is my favourite customer and is always eager and terribly interested in any news that we both may have. Auntie Gladys brought some more scones down to tie on the cottage door handle (with a small note reminding me to pick her entry up for the Prestatyn flower show next Friday) her excitement in entering a show other than the historic Trelawnyd show is almost palpable, and very infectious. After all this trouble I bloody hope she wins.
Pippa the doctors wife,dropped in with a huge bucket of alfalfa and lettuce for the ducks,we always have a jolly-hockysticks kind of chat over the garden wall, which always reminds me of middle aged wartime characters in Mrs Miniver.She being Lady Beldon and me definitely playing Mr. Ballard.
Geoff, my affable Liverpudlian apprentice called down at teatime with daughter Helen,to play with the hybrid chicks,and neighbours Mandy, John, Steve and Carole always seem around with a friendly conversation, wave and gossip about something in the village........
and I wonder that some days I never seem to get anything done