Day Three

Well it was my turn to be up at the crack of dawn.

My brother Festis and Uncle Dugal were fast asleep and even banging around in the kitchen while I made the tea did not perturb them.

I remembered that Wednesdays is Zita’s regular day off so I made enough tea for two.

Then I made a quick reconnaissance around our property before having my tea in the dining room. 

Standards needed to be maintained. Especially when you are far away from home. 

Since there is an election underway we have signs all over the front yard. A tempting target for louts. 

Usually the fearsome appearance of Miss Poppy dissuaded them but now that is another of our unexpected responsibilities.

So we have instituted a night observation schedule. I have included Uncle Dugal. 

Zita drove our Miss Niamh to her university for her early class. 

As it was a bit too cold for bicycling at that time of the morning.

When Zita returned home she brought out the vacuum cleaner so I thought it an appropriate time for my morning constitutional. 

You have to be quick on cleaning day lest you are an assigned task. 

When I got home both Festis and Dugal had the vacuum taken to them. Serves them right.

After her breakfast Zita called her parents in Ireland.

But they only had time for a quick talk because they were just about out the door. 

It was an exceptionally beautiful morning beautiful with not a cloud in the sky.

So Craig and Zita decided to go to the Sunset Grill and have brunch. 

But Craig had to have a coffee first. To make sure he was still alive. 

When they returned Zita got a telephone call and was informed that our Miss Poppy was ready to come home. 

So Zita took her car and brought our Miss Poppy back to her own family. 

Quite a sad journey I am afraid to say. 

When the Laird died it took us two days to find the key to the crypt. 

It was in his extra hiking boot, having lost a leg at Ypres he only needed one you see. 

He always did have a sense of humour. We buried the boot with him. 

I looked at the vase they supplied for Miss Poppy.

I must say that is much too dreary and banal to hold a spirt as boundless as our Poppy’s.

So Craig is going to find a far more appropriate and elegant repository. I would have expected no less. 

We know how these things should be done. 

After all we have had near a thousand years of practice. 

Our Morag wanted to send the Laird off in fiery boat but the fire department objected. 

I suspect they are now off the Christmas puddings list.

Zita picked up Niamh from her work so she could practice driving. Soon she has a exam she has to pass. 

Fortunately Uncle Dugal’s three litre is non compus menti at the moment. 

A malevolent tree jumped out apparently.

Because Dugal would be most certainly trying to teach her the lost art of corner slides and hand break turns. 

Skills best left obscure in my opinion. 

The family had their dinner when the practice session was done. 

It must have gone well as there were no apparent lack of appetites. 

We have made a communal decision. 

We shall attend the nightly detective programs only if invited or if we know someone in the cast.