Now, Mr B is a funeral director, don't you know. So he suggested to the powers that be that it might be good for the missus to earn a little bit of pocket money. Next thing you know, I'm stood outside the local crematorium in the biting wind and lashing rain, trying to grab the poor mourners as they go by to jot down their names for the local newspaper!
Don't get me wrong, it's not a bad job. I'm enjoying being out for a couple of hours a week, and I also enjoy that extra bit of cash. I just wish he might have found me something a bit more...sheltered. Still, gives me an excuse to buy those cutesy fingerless gloves I spotted t'other day. :)
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