The walk today was heading south along the east bank of the Cree River. Unfortunately most of it was along the very busy A75 which carries heavy traffic towards and away from Dumfries. Apart from a diversion I made into Creetown, most of the way was along this very busy main road. So I was doing my one-foot-on-the-verge peg leg dance a lot of the way.
I stopped off in a cafe for a coffee and was transported back about 50 years to a place that had barely changed in all that time. The old couple that ran the cafe looked as if they had bought the place about 1960, filled it up with jars of sherbet lemons and the like and had then done nothing to the place since. I enjoyed a good salad roll there and a coffee and listened in to a “conversation” between the owner and what I took was an old retired farmer. It was entirely one sided with the the owner asking questions and the farmer occasionaly saying “aye”. Is this what happens to old men? They have nothing to say? Maybe I could learn from them – I spend so much time walking along living in my own head that when I do get a chance to have a chat it can come out like verbal diarrhea. Perhaps the old men have said everything that needs to be said and don’t want to waste their breath. I used to think that everyone had only a certain number of words that they could say during their lifetime. When your quota ran out, then you would be struck dumb for whatever years you had left. There is something attractive about that idea – perhaps people would think before they speak – choose their words carefully and not ramble on.
I wonder how many words I have left to……….