Monday, January 9, 2017

January 9. Day 9. Tea and sympathy

The phone rang just after 5am. That can never be good. My neighbour's panic alarm had been activated, the ambulance was on its way and as first contact they were calling me. I dragged myself out of bed to investigate. Margaret was fine. She was sitting at the front window and assumed she had knocked the alarm while dressing. Now here's the thing. We were heading out at 9.30am for an audiologist appointment in the city at 10. But she was fully dressed and ready to go. "I like to be organised," she said. I like to sleep in, I thought. Anyway four hours later we set off. I was shown the house where a man with a white horse used to live. And where the mum and her two daughters were murdered. And the place that used to be a doctor's surgery. There is so much local knowledge in that head. There's also a wicked sense of humour that comes out when you least expect it. Margaret was asked by the audiologist whether she'd ever been exposed to loud noises which might have contributed to hearing loss. She said she's worked in the council printing office for a time where there was loud machinery. When asked how long she'd worked there she replied "only 31 years" and she smirked. Yeah, that might do it. And with all that sorted and a new hearing aid ordered we had a cuppa and lunch before returning home with more land marks pointed out on the way. Someone really should record an oral history before it's too late.

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