Village people

Today we visited my aunty in the retirement village in Forest Hill in order to return a book to another aunty from Adelaide who was paying a visit after visiting yet another of my aunties in Warrnambool. I found the book in question in a bookcase during a cleanout a few years ago. It was inscribed by my grandmother with her name, address and the date (1949). Inside the book was a little mothers' day gift card inscribed by her daughter, my Adelaide aunty.

The book is Marjorie Lawrence's autobiography. My Adelaide aunty had no recollection of giving this gift to her mother all those years ago, but still remembers many fascinating details of her childhood and youth. She is looking forward to reading the long lost book.

On driving into the village we narrowly avoided skittling a lady who decided to wander across the road in front of us without first checking if a car was approaching. Perhaps this lady was still recovering from yesterday's monthly happy hour, in which the village people get to enjoy unlimited beer, wine and nibbles for $4.00 a head. My aunty who lives in the village thinks this is an absolute disgrace, as the price was recently bumped up from $2.00.

Mr 30 and Mr 27 are very keen on catching up with their great aunty and grandmother respectively at the next village people happy hour.

Op shop bounty

On the way to the village we detoured via the Wattle Park op shop to drop off a few bags of offerings, emerging with only a lavender leather handbag, a tiny red velour jumpsuit and a purple satin dress. Quite restrained really.

 

Posted with Blogsy