I'm approaching 65, and I would rather spend time with my chickens, dog, cats. The people at my church are very nice, and I do enjoy going occasionally to social events, but I am always happy to be home with garden and flock.I have now hosted ten of the dinner invitation events. Two meals were less than stellar, drunk while cooking for one and the other just wasn't very nice.
I've learn't a bit about cooking under pressure and spent quite a lot of money to discover what I've known for some years now; chickens are better company than people.
Of couse, I've discussed these events with Henry. What he wants to know is when it will be his turn. As he pointed out, he's not a fussy eater unlike some of his hens and I wouldn't be hampered by having to wash up as I go due to plate and utensil shortages.
I have pointed out that he wouldn't be impressed by the ground conditions or the limited space in my flat. I got the look and got told it couldn't possibly be worse than the run he is mostly confined to. He may have a point.
Being a generous sort of chap but with a low people tolerance I will do more dinners, mainly for family but not quite so many in such a short period of time.
I've tried, but the simple truth is I'm not a social creature and at fast approaching 70 years old I feel I'm entitled to be as antisocial as I please.
Hopefully the weather will improve a bit in the coming month and while I can't do my prefered gone feral living, I will at least be able to spend more time at the field with the chickens and with a bit of imagination, pretend the rest of the world is not really of interest and too far away to be of any relevance.
Most of the people at work are self-obsessed jerks. I sneezed at a meeting this week, and even though I had covered it the woman next to me pulled out a mask and pointedly put it on.

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