Like many commuters Chris drives to the local station at some ungodly hour ( a round trip of around 9 miles) and catches the train to his University. If I want to use the car during the day, I can either take him myself or I can pick the car up from town later in the day.
I tend to plump for the latter as Chris' overly chatty personality drives me to destruction at 6 am in the morning.
Now there are only a couple of buses a day that run from Trelawnyd to the coastal towns, and every time ( bar one) that I have stood at the bus stop waiting for one to arrive, I have been kindly picked up and given a lift from someone in the village.
I am always tickled pink when a car draws up before the bus arrives!
In a reciprocal manner , if I see someone standing at the bus stop that I know, I will stop the car and offer a lift , a thing I did today as I was driving through the nearby village of Dyserth.
The smart elderly lady I picked up sat in the front of the car ( on one of my clean t shirts to protect her from the muddy dog paw prints) while all the dogs sat patiently on the back seat.and before I dropped her off home, I stopped briefly to drop some eggs off for a customer.
When I got back to the car, the woman looked just a little shocked as during the few seconds I was out of the Berlingo, Winifred had jumped into the drivers seat and had pushed her fat head into the woman's handbag which she had just opened up on her knee.
" she's just seen my polo mints" the woman said in way of explanation wiping bulldog spit from her immaculate Spanish leather bag.
Oh the shame
