Monday, 7 November 2005

conversations with my mother #051107

Ma: The vicar's rung me about five times today.
Me: Why's that? Does he fancy you?
Ma: Not at the moment dear. He was complaining.
Me: What about?
Ma: He'd ordered some flowers to be delivered to London and the people I placed the order with messed it up. Three times.
Me: Not good.
Ma: No. He wasn't really in 'vicar' mode. More his 'ex-sailor' persona.
Me: Does that come out often?
Ma: Sometimes. He caused quite a stir at the Parish Council Coffee Morning when he told Maggie Watson a blue joke, using navy language.
Me: Doesn't she like that kind of thing?
Ma: Well, quite few people didn't think it was really appropriate. She's ninety three and had only recently lost her husband.
Me: Ah. So did you sort his order out?
Ma: Yes. I don't know who it was going to - a lady with the same name as him, so perhaps it was his mother, although I suppose it could have been a sister, or maybe a cousin, he didn't say ...
Me: [patient and long suffering ...] Yes ... ?
Ma: So, they delivered it on the wrong day.
Me: I can see why he's be cross ...
Ma: Well, yes, me too. And then they forgot the card. And THEN when they agreed that they'd send a box of chocolates and some more flowers as an apology, they forgot that, too.
Me: So did he use navy language with you?
Ma: No. Thankfully. He said he realised it wasn't my fault. Although he was quite cross. I don't know if I dare to show my face at church on Sunday, although to be honest, he doesn't come himself that often. He's more interested in the bigger of his parishes.
Me: Well, I should definitely avoid Coffee Mornings for a while, unless you want to press-ganged in to hard labour on the Church Tower Restoration Fund ...

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