west country folk... they're not like others are they ? ( bless their cotton socks )
My wife recently had to phone an undertaker in Cornwall for some last minute arrangements for her Auntie Doris’s funeral and had a very pleasant chat with the senior director of this particular ..errr…. shop?... ( or so she thought ). The person answered the phone and Mrs.G explained that auntie was being cremated tomorrow … the gentleman expressed his regrets..and then they chatted for a few moments on life and death and such ( as you do with those chaps. )
Mrs. G then explained that she wanted a particular piece of music and did he know if the Crematorium had it…”no dear, I don’t know.. perhaps you should phone the Crematorium… hold on and I’ll look up the number for you” Rustling of papers and the chap comes back with the phone no. and then asks who is handling the service. Mrs. G somewhat surprised says well.. you are.
“Oh no dear, you’ve reached a private number.”
We could only imagine that the poor soul had no one else to talk to that day and was pleased for the chat.
we still have our rental cottage .. but with Auntie Doris gone ... well.... she was our last of that generation ... no other family down there.
