I’d just put the soup on (day 4 and our final portion) when there was a knock at the door.
Our inherited doorbell doesn’t work and has been taped over until Hubby can find a blanking plate for it, and you may remember he put up a doorknocker.
Photo: Ah, Doorknocker
The funny thing is nobody uses it and just raps on the glass with their knuckles. Methinks we need a big arrow pointing to Our Doorknocker.
Anyway, Maggie was barking and I wasn’t quite quick enough to keep her inside or grab her collar, so she just presented herself to the couple on the drive. As the woman was ferreting about in her bag, Maggie thought food and stuck her nose in. How embarrassing.
As soon as I saw The Watch Tower I very politely put my hands up and said No Thank You.
Maggie retreated indoors, silent and sulking, as they weren’t generous like the Postman with biscuits.
I don’t do religion. I don’t write about it, comment about it, or post about it, other than to say I NEVER knock anyone’s faith.
Yes, Hubby and I light a candle for our Dads regularly at home now as we haven’t found a church we can go into like we did The Abbey.
It’s been a long time since Jehovah’s Witnesses knocked on my door. It was my parent’s neighbour’s faith in Jehovah that got her out of bed having been bedridden for 26 years.
She lived to be 104, but I don’t want to be a follower.
I have to admit the couple were very nice and accepting of my wishes, as was my friend in NZ in 2010 who offered me a copy of The Book, which I declined. She said it was her duty to try, but never held it against me.
Everyone believes in something, and so they should. We’re just not all the same.