While I was setting the tables at work today, someone said, in Dutch, "Don't set a place there. Mr. Battike is dead." In full voice, she went on to explain that he was 99 and that he'd died last week. Then I had to deal with Mevrouw Moraal, who went on in great detail about how her neighbor, Meneer Battike is dead. And what can we do? Nothing. And she's so sad and lots more all in Dutch.
Meneer Battike is someone who I always said was "crazy as a bedbug." He was one of those where if I was giving people soup, he was suddenly three years old saying, "I don't have soup. I want soup. Don't forget me. I don't have soup." as I was setting the soups down in front of the women. I almost feel bad about saying that he was crazy as a bedbug, but he was. I'll sort of miss him. He was an wacky old coot, but he was a fixture.
They say they come in threes. I can't imagine who'll be next. They're all candidates.
County Fair Entries and Results, 2022
7 months ago
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