The oldies are generally a cheerful lot, but woe betides if I'm slow on the uptake getting the urn hot and can't organise the tea and coffee quickly enough. I have been on the receiving end of the odd critical comment by a dissatisfied elder. There is nothing fragile or gentle about most of these folk. Particularly if I'm between them and the afternoon tea...
Stacey and I have been friends since her Adam was a boy. We met at an organisation named HeartKids as both our youngest sons had been born with congenital heart defects. Later, we expanded our group of Disabled Mothers to include an eclectic bunch of weirdos whom I am proud to call my friends to this day.
Stacey and I didn't see each other for some years, but with the assistance of Facebook, we had remained in touch. Back in 2015, she contacted me about bringing up her first load of intrepid travellers to the East End Gallery. "Poor frail old things" was my immediate response and yes, of course, Stacey rocked up with her version of Rent-A-Crowd.
And then they arrived. Michael and I were nearly mown over in the stampede. At that moment, I realised my fundamental mistake. Never make assumptions about the elderly amongst us. They are actually us, just a few years further on. This lot is mostly sharp and astute, their sense of humour sustains them, they have firm opinions and definitely enjoy a bit of fun.
We are usually shattered after their departure...
On this visit, they arrived about a half-hour late. Like a swarm of amiable locusts, twenty-five or so descended upon the afternoon tea. I had planned never to run out of sweet treats ever again, after my initial disaster of not-enough-scones. They ploughed their way through a carrot cake and a Madeira cake, drank four litres of tea and only disdained the chocolate muffins. Which surprised me...
Given our precarious state of finances, I took courage in hand and asked for gold coin donations towards the cost of their afternoon tea. They gave generously, which warmed the cockles of my heart. Not big on purchases in the Gallery, I found an alternative way to earn some much-needed money, without any pressure.
They piled back into the buses and were gone in an hour.
As ever, we sat back, in a daze of stunned and amused exhaustion. Once more, the inmates of the Greendale Centre had shared our lives, albeit briefly, with affection, humour and interest. Most of them took a tour of at least part of the Gallery. Some found the step up into the Giftshop a tad daunting, but the majority were able to negotiate the obstacle with assistance. They were animated and enthusiastic in their complements.
Stacey did not put in an appearance. She pleaded some rubbish about being in meetings all day. What I suspect was that she needed a day off from her energetic and joyous charges. I suppose I can forgive her for that...
Until next time. As Lionel's Dad would say in "As Time Goes By" on the telly - "Rock on!"
This is not a typical senior anymore...
This is a senior!
Armadale Aquatic Centre, which the Greendale bunch visit regularly...
And after exercise, they become hungry...
So, one day a week, they invade an unsuspecting premises...
Such as the Mount Henry Tavern!
I suspect this is their mantra...
And whilst we slaved, Stacey spent all afternoon in meetings...
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