Which reminds me of my Ma & Pa, who lived in a remotish spot. One evening, a nice looking fellow came down from the hills looking for a particular pub and found he’d got the wrong village. Mum, looking at the sinking sun, offered him shelter, and Dad concurred. So said lonely traveler got hearty food, fireside whisky and a bed, gratis.
This might, of course, have ended up as a line in Mark Kermode’s PhD. It didn’t, though, and two days later Mum got a lovely bunch of flowers.
So, yeah, glass-half-fullwise, I’m game. |