There has been a care home in our area for many years. Some residents leave it on foot and risk crossing the road to the newsagent or the supermarket, though constant traffic, mostly exceeding the speed limit, make this a hazardous undertaking.
Recently, two new businesses have opened nearby. The first is a funeral undertaker, who has spotted an obvious market niche as people entering the home by the front door tend to leave by the back.
The second was more unexpected, an outfit offering to pamper us all, both in mind and body. My wife suspected this might be a front for a house of ill repute, catering entirely for the body and letting the mind go hang. But it transpires that the business is, how shall we say, ‘straight up’.
This may be seen by the special offers they post from time to time on a swinging metal board on the pavement outside; for example, holistic massage with mineral salts. But the current one takes the biscuit (holistic biscuits, no doubt, offered with a glass of Madeira). And what was this special offer, I hear you ask? A Jurassic Mud Foot Soak!
I took the photograph on a Sunday when the shop was closed, so avoiding the risk that the staff would rush out and drench me in patchouli oil or ylang ylang. Had it been open, I would have been tempted to wander in, assume the innocent expression of the aged and infirm, and ask where they sourced their supplies of Jurassic mud. I mean, who falls for this sort of thing?
Will the business last? I have no idea, but will keep you posted if I live long enough.