Thursday, 17 May 2012

Winched out of the windows to the crematorium . . .

The Perfect Retirement Housing Complex
Inner Hamlet

My Dear Ralph
Docker and I have just been on a sortie to Outer Hamlet in the motor.  Docker - who had descended to the front door via the lift - was snarling about the nosies in the lounge nearly all the way there!  Apparently, the Popette had asked her where she was going and she had replied, 'Timbuktu.'  I had, luckily, descended to the front door via the stairs and so had fortunately eluded all this pet.  When we returned, we discovered ourselves still to be in the direct eyeline of the Popette, who stared nastily.  I had to forcibly restrain Docker from making one or two trenchant remarks as we waited for the lift to inch down and collect us.  Still, at least it didn't break down with us in it dear.  Some months ago, I heard that someone had to have an oxygen mask lowered down to them via the trapdoor in the roof of said conveyance.  A number of the elderly seem frightened to get into it, and I have seen one or two in the stairwell with their Zimmer frames and bags of laundry.  On more than one occasion now, I have had to assist Mabel and her little dog with the semi-paralysed hindquarters.  It is certainly difficult for dogs with long bodies - traversing several steps - to ascend the many flights whilst so incapacitated .  Still no-one, as yet, has had to be winched out of the windows in order to reach the crematorium.  And this, really, is quite surprising given the quantities of doughnuts consumed every afternoon by inmates gossiping in the lounge.  Pom-Pom and I keep a dignified distance from the scuffle as you may imagine dear, although no-one is immune from the gaze of miscellaneous eyeballs - covering both exits - all of the time.
Aunt Agatha

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