As I approach the Grove, I hear a little girl saying "bye bye". She waves as she follows her mother out of the park. Who or what is she saying goodbye to? As I come level with the corner, I see that it is a cat, which sits on the grass, and looks bored, though possibly relieved to be left on its own.
A group of noisy, elderly women on an outing invade Smiths, the Greengrocers, where you help yourself to the produce and pay at a checkout desk. One lady with a pronounced Welsh accent and a note of hysteria in her voice stands over a stack of strawberries. "Where's the man? she shouts as she hangs on to the stack of boxes. "Where's the man? The strawberries are falling!"
I like the little, electric tractors called Workhorses, which they use in maintaining the Grove.They are satisfyingly compact with a spacious hopper and move with a quiet, purposeful hum.
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