Thankfully the eternal demise of Hilda, my favourite village elder, is nothing but a naughty piece of meddling.
I bumped into her in the Post Office this morning. She was bright eyed and bushy tailed.
“Why should I pop my clogs” says Hilda.“Living in the Peak District is already like being in heaven .... without all the bother and expense of dying.”
Well said old girl.
