I was up to no good today, having a good time in an op shop when the kind lady serving me instructed me to write for the Chronicle again.
I visit Raglan occasionally on Sundays and it’s great to see old friends and even making some new ones down there.
But Raglan now belongs in my past, much as I loved my 17 years there. I miss the sea. Hamilton Lake just across the road is no substitute but I have grown very fond of it.
There are always people around, many of them children, who often behave badly by hogging the swings when I want to have a go. Or you can sit on a bench and watch the passersby.
I heard that the council want to restore the lake to a swimmable state. I guess that would mean the ducks would have to go. I doubt if you could put nappy’s on them and where would I be able to throw my bread crusts without them, and various other bird life, to snap it up.
Lets see if I can carry on for seventeen years here. That would take me to one hundred. Here’s hoping.