Wednesday, 17 June 2009
It always amuses me that, even in these"secular" times, folk still see the visit of "the meenister" as something to get excited about. One lady I visited this morning was so excited by my visit that she didn't recognise me and proceeded to tell me about the nice new young minister who had come to the parish. Having got over that, she then offered me coffee which I gratefully accepted. Except that, when I tasted it, it tasted awfully like Bovril. I wasn't sure whether to say anything or not - it was perfectly drinkable. But I thought that if she had made herself a cup of this and got the cups mixed up, she would think it strange that I didn't mention it. Turned out, instead of reaching for the jar of instant coffee, she had reached instead for a jar of Bisto gravy granules! My visit had certainly left her flustered. What a hoot on a grey wet morning. Now where else can I go and wreak havoc?