Furry

I drove over to meet Harriet in Horncastle for lunch as she had a short 'meeting' over there. To pass the time we decided to head to The Old Co-Op for a bit of browsing. I love it there and at its sister shops. It's a wealth of junk and collectables. As a hoarder I'm dangerous in such an environment. I'm quite convinced that if I had a space like this, it actually wouldn't look too different. Old suitcases piled 20 feet high. I can't help it, I love the old things with their stories. The wealth of stuff they have there actually beggars belief. It has to be seen to be believed.

Harriet and I ventured upstairs to where fabric lies in piles and covers rail after rail. I sidled carefully past all the fur which never fails to send a shiver down my spine. I poked and prodded at various fabrics and wandered around the room until I suddenly noticed what looked rather like a small dead dog. A fur had fallen in such a way to make it look like it had legs. I jumped back, cursing and pointing it out to Harriet. At this point I also managed to stand on a wire coat hanger which flicked over and hit me in the leg. Scream? Moi? Maybe just a little. It scared me to death, I thought the thing had come to life and was biting me.

And Harriet? She laughed at me.

But she did buy me a brie and grape baguette for lunch so all's well that ends well.