Richard helped me take my parents to the farmer's market this morning. I couldn't face taking them alone, and in any case, if my dad had needed a wheelchair, I couldn't have taken them alone, with my mom in the wheel chair. So he drove, and I sat in the back, the walker crammed in front of me, with its feet on mine. Ow!
We got there okay, and Richard, who has never been there before, seemed to be having a very good time. He stood there with my mom's wheelchair, listening to the musician do his thing, chatting with him between sets, and trying many samples. He bought a few things I wouldn't have thought of buying for himself, including a nice loaf of fresh bread (I would have bought something a little more elaborate, but it was good) and some goat's cheese. Hating cheese as I do, I wouldn't have bought that, would I?