the village people

mrs mac and me

i must stress that all my village characters bear no resemblance to actual villagers, living or dead. my characters are the invention of my mind, the result of an over active imagination.

yep that's my story and i'm sticking to it!

omg!...
did you know?
scottish black slugs are cannibals!
yup, indeed. just been outside for a smoke and coffee and there was this big fat slug munching on this small black slug. well... the little one had already changed planes as some great clumping idiot had stood on the poor wee thing. "which great, clumping idiot?"...you ask.
"no names, no pack drill!" ... i reply.

i met mrs mac when i was earning my daily crust in the care sector. an impossible woman, she was the main reason i decided that care was not the career for me. i mean really, i had neither the guts nor the gumption to sweet talk her out of her nightie and into her day clothes. mrs mac would just say ... "no! i am quite comfortable as i am!"

there was also the small matter of nourishing meals. if it was not a bacon butty or a sweet and sticky cake... well, mrs mac saw absolutely no point in popping in her teeth to eat. no amount of loving preparation and whiney, wheedling on my part would ever persuade her otherwise.
what a woman! well into her eighties, she has lost none of her personal power. she still smokes at least forty cigarettes a day even though her heart is failing and her chest clogged. how many times has she been knocking at heavens gates? guess they up there are also reluctant to deal with her, as she always rallies and returns home to make another day difficult for those who care!

back to the main point, in the year past, the council has built a ramp, allowing wheelchair access to mrs mac's bungalow. mrs mac arranged the purchase of a smooth running wheelchair. mrs mac likes to get out for a stroll in the fresh air and a cuppa at the garden centre. once a week, it is both my pleasure and my pain, to assist her in taking the air.

mrs mac delights in criticizing my wheelchair driving skills.
"where did you learn to drive? careful we are not arrested because you are drunk in charge of a wheelchair! ouch... can you not be more careful...these old bones of mine feel every bump!"

me ... attempting to remain calm in the face of extreme provocation...
"ah woman, best you remain silent about my driving skills or i'll leave you here to free wheel home."

raucous laughter and the odd cackle from mrs mac...
"aye, and you would to, you stroppy bitch!"

man... i can't wait to be eighty. there is the small matter of not having to pay tv licence fees and then...
you get to be able to say whatever comes into your head without folks taking a pop at you.

having the ramp and the wheelchair have made a huge difference in mrs mac's life, she gets to be out and about, chatting with her neighbours and seeing a little life. a week or two ago, mrs mac and i had just turned the corner from her road into the road which runs along the sea shore. a bloke working in his garden came over to greet mrs mac and they spent a view minutes chatting. we said our goodbyes and i sprang into chair propelling action. no more than five of my steps and mrs mac pronounces acidly, at the top of her voice...
"nosy old git!"
this of a man at least forty years her junior and well within hearing distance! i turn and flash him an apologetic smile...
he grins back, his expression clearer than words...
'aye mrs mac is out and about and in wicked form!'