Words fail me...

How did we get into this pickle of 

the rich/‘famous’ thinking they are such superior beings that they have the answer to the world’s ills?

Who exactly do they think they are in their gilded cage thinking folk’s dreary lives (in their exalted opinion!) need cheering up by their vacuous excesses!

I do hope you can read it?

A piece in today’s Times 2.

As if we haven’t had enough of that particular branch of the family bleating?

Not to put too...

fine a point on it...

I have always cut to the chase and said it like it is... preferably with knobs on.  Not ordinary common or garden knobs but big ‘have some of that!’ hairy ones!

Like Boudicca, along the way, men, women and mere babes have been subject to my advice as the law according to LL (Lettice Leaf) has been pronounced from on high.  Or rather from my chariot as it rides rough shod over all sensibilities.

A much loved cousin who always whatever time of day you visited looked for all the world like she had stepped out of a current copy of Vogue, alright Vogue of the early fifties... but still!

She would saunter to the door having peeled herself up from scrubbing the kitchen floor looking a million dollars.  Her home was immaculate, her body was slim and svelte like with creams and portions applied vigorously.  There was a chink in her armour: for all of the above she had a vice... smoking!  Me, looking for all the world like a bag lady crossed with a tramp felt, I hate to say superior as I strolled in... not to put too fine a point on it... a flaming scruff, saying

‘Chris, you are top show, you care so much about your appearance but have no care for what is going on inside!’

What gave me the right?

Another given the ‘benefit’ of my advice was a Highlander who I thought the world of, he when I lived there was away with the fairies with the demon drink.  He would come to visit with a bottle of whisky and drink it until it was gone, along with ours.  Then he would demand more, I would get my hands on his shoulders, stand him up, turn him round, open the door and gently boot him out.  On one occasion when he demanded more I gestured to the bottle of meths on the window sill and said...

‘Here have this!’  He wasn’t too far gone to not feel mortified at my suggestion!

We are now firm friends.  Many years later and since I left the Highlands, he no longer smokes or drinks alcohol and is the first to say, he wouldn’t be alive now if he had carried on the way he was.

Nothing to do with me and he smiles at our reminisces of past arguments!

A lovely, lovely man.  

My cousin sadly I have lost touch with, so who knows where she is at? 

As I sit in the garden thinking back over a life well lived, 

warts n all it is interesting to know how I’ve flaming got away with being such a

blooming battle axe?

As we all face our mortality in these most taxing of times it is interesting to look back and wonder?
Where we went wrong, where we went right, where we could have ‘put a sock in it!’ especially pertinent to yours truly!  And more importantly how we will/must behave in the strange new world waiting for us as we emerge from the darkness into the light.
Let us never forget!

If you’ve ever kept...

hens you will know they sometimes lay an egg had hasn’t formed a shell.  The egg is just covered in   a soft membrane.

That’s exactly how I felt yesterday when I ventured out for the first time for weeks.  I felt strangely exposed and vulnerable?

My reason for getting in the car and going to our local pet superstore is that like a clot I had ordered on-line the wrong dog kibble.  I phoned to see whether they had Ellie’s usual brand, and as they had, I decided now was the time for me to venture out.  The girl that got the bag out of the car, sneezed three times, I really resented feeling a tad anxious, not at all like my usual carefree self!  The store was operating a strict rotation of customers.  All good until I asked the same girl if she could help me get to the flavour at the bottom of the pile of bags.

She came up keeping the regulation 2 m distance and said

‘This is the same brand you have just brought back!’

Well my flabber had never been more gasted!

‘What an idiot!’

Good job it was her otherwise I would have trundled home with the exact same one!

This self isolation is having an odd effect?  It was quite obvious I had left my brain back at home!

I needed some vegetables so seeing the queue was just a few people I donned my gloves and waited.  Once again the little supermarket at the garage next door was being very strict with one in, one out.

I got what I wanted and drove back through a deserted Ludlow feeling relieved and happy to be home.

Strange times we are all living through.

Happy Easter!  

Be well and most of all be safe!

xXx

Look, I might offend...

some folk here, but it has been a family joke for years...

hold tight...

hostess trolleys!

It started when my son and his wife and children went over to her parents for Sunday lunch.  The hostess trolley would ceremoniously be rolled out groaning with twenty six different veg(slight exaggeration) the joint, roasties and Yorkshire pud’s.

The fact that there was barely enough space in the dining room for them let alone the flaming trolley was completely overlooked. My son who had the honour of sitting next to it, had to wait until last as he  served the rest of the family.

All the contents were at least hot-ish, if not a tad over cooked by then!

Unbeknown to them, unkindly we got a lot of mileage out of this apparatus of yesteryear.  So much so that when they divorced it seemed only natural to enquire as to who had custody of the flaming trolley?

All of this came into my mind when I emailed my son to say we were self isolating and I had to chain the husband’s leg to the drinks cabinet to prevent him from going out to shop!

Drinks cabinet?

Hostess trolley?

You see the link?

I then went on to say after this lock down is lifted I plan on reverting back to my ‘invite the world and his wife to dine’ persona that I once had! For this very reason the first thing on my shopping list will be... yes, you’ve guessed it... a

hostess trolley.

They will read my missive and come to the conclusion she’s been off her trolley for years so I suppose now is the right time to get a new one!?!

‘Mirror, mirror...

on the wall which foot has the ugliest corn of them all?’

I have been set on a mission by my lovely 95 year old ‘Mum’ Audrey.

The other day, she said in passing that she had broken her mirror which she needed to see the bottom of her feet!

‘Oh dear that means seven years bad luck, that will make you 102 before your luck turns!’ I said.

She laughed as she with all her health worries isn’t going to let the common old Covid get her!

I need a new magnifying mirror to see the bottom of my feet (she’s diabetic) and to see the blisters  that keep bursting in the paper- thin skin of her legs.

Now I’m nothing if not dynamical when it comes to getting on the case of real need for a very vulnerable person.  I found what I thought would be ideal and got it sent pronto.  All good as she was amazed at the speed of its arrival.  Next day, I got a rocket!  Where is the invoice? I plaintively replied this is our Easter present, as we haven’t been able to get out and get you one.  She wasn’t having any of it!  Added to which it wasn’t at all suitable?  I then located just the identical one from John Lewis I had, and duly got that ordered.  I then sent the copy of what was coming together with the order confirmation showing the price.

I sat back thinking she can’t find fault with this as it is just what she was looking for!?!  Two emails came in quick succession to say stop the order.  She would wait 

until the hardware shop reopened and she could choose her own!  You really have to admire her style for thinking she would be still alive when the blooming hardware shop sprung into life again!

I did try to cancel the order but time had gone between me placing the order and trying to cancel it.

She was going to faceTime me last night, I had my mirror to hand to show her exactly what was due to arrive.  Audrey emailed to say as she had been far too busy yesterday she was tired and didn’t have the energy to talk.   

Then I got a video about laughing yoga, which she found highly amusing and so did I.

My love but most of all my admiration for her knows no bounds... 

What a woman!

I still haven’t told her the mirror is on its way and another rocket will be fired off at me... Am I bothered?

Not a bit!

Taken a few years ago now... 

‘Houston we have a...

problem!’

On the Boris approved walk of the day, all was going fine until we got to the dreaded lactic ladder and Ellie once again shot off.

As me keeping out of sight seemed to work the first time it 
happened, we decided to give it another go, only this time both hide.

Ellie it would appear is far more intelligent than both of us Mensa grand masters... that last bit is a stonking great fib!

We hid where we thought she couldn’t see us, a cunning plan some might think  trouble was after fifteen frustrating minutes we emerged to find her in a totally different vantage point where see could plainly see us.

Ellie - 1

Us - 0

We had decided we would walk back along the bread walk.  We both saw her immediately and pretended we hadn’t... like you do!?!

Eventually she came down from on high to join us.  I went to clip her on the lead, she half decided not to play ball, then thought best I go along with what they want? We then turned for home, both of us feeling fairly fed up with her and I ought to say... ourselves!

The thing is all this keeping as far away from folk as we can has fed her fear, and now she seems frightened of every approaching person taking avoiding action.  Added to which in the mix she has discovered that she has control!  The walk in the woods is always now busy with lots of people following the prescribed one hour exercise.  Today we are going to go to the forest and see how this goes?  The forest walk is a five minute drive from here and you see  nobody to speak of, probably even less now.  We are between a rock and a hard place.  Any suggestions about how to discourage Ellie getting the upper paw would be gratefully received?

‘Throw it against the...

wall and see if it sticks!’

This heading on Joanne’s blog... ‘Cup on the Bus’ of a few days ago reminded me of a post for my blog.

Those were more or less the words I used...

‘Roll it up in a ball throw it on the wall and it WILL stick!’

My words reverberated across the air waves of our local radio station... ‘Radio York’.

Through the glass as I was finishing my weekly food round up I saw the producer indicating that  I should join him.  Naively I thought the slot had gone down well!  How flaming wrong can you be?  As I walked into the adjoining studio he laid into me.

‘It isn’t your job that is on the line here... it’s mine!  There are folk that cruise the airwaves laying in wait for libellous statements and that is what you have just made!’

My mouth opened and closed a few times, for once lost for words!?!

Feebly I said ‘Well it’s true!’  I was referring to sliced white bread which I had called gunge, made by a well known manufacturer!

The rest of the piece had been fine, alright my avant garde take on food however...

The funny thing was I was never asked to do that particular slot again?  A few days later I met his wife who was full of praise of my contribution saying how refreshing it was to hear someone speaking their mind!  Hopefully she said the same to her old man?

At Radio York I also did a weekly cooking slot on the radio... more tales of that some other time.

‘Cooking on the radio?  That confirms it... the woman is crackers!

A walk on the...

wild side in the woods.  Our hour’s exercise is now the same one every day.  Over Dinham Bridge and up the lactic ladder into the woods, back along the bread walk by the River Teme and home.  Well that is the tried and tested route until Friday, when Ellie had other ideas!  I was staying in as we were expecting a delivery from the butchers.  At the end of the bread walk, Ellie decided she wasn’t quite ready for home and shot up the lactic ladder for another circuit... ‘Look here I’m a young collie and need certainly more than a one hour trundle around the woods!’

Himself stood at the bottom and waited using the whistle a couple of times.  She stood at the top not having any of it! 

Eventually he told her to sit and wait and she did, he then when up to her put her on the lead and home they came.

With my matronly bosom heaving in indignation at the sheer effrontery of the hound.

Unspoken words echoed through my battleaxe brain... ‘Well she certainly wouldn’t have tried it on with me!’

Yesterday off we went, same route,  and yes you can probably see where this is going...

She did the exact same thing!

We sat on a seat, not permitted, but hey!?!  I whistled a couple of times, no joy I could see her high up on the cliff type edge of the woods.  I turned my back to her and waited.  I turned just too soon, as she was halfway down the steps, as soon as she saw me look, back up she went!

Little bugger!

Next I sat on the ground, back towards her... no joy.  All the while Ted sat on the seat, this went on for fifteen flaming minutes!

I then had the bright idea to walk right under the cliff, completely out of sight.  Within seconds, she came haring down, straight past Ted on the bench, swerving as she saw me stood back from him.  She rushed up to me looking relieved, I quietly said ‘Good girl!’ and home we came!

In one way I am glad she is finding her feet, in another I am sad that she isn’t getting enough exercise!

Butter wouldn’t melt in its mouth type of dawg!

‘Have a lie in!’

I said.  

Surprisingly this morning he has agreed, this in itself is maybe a pointer to him feeling not as well as he claims?

I am sure Ted has this bloody awful virus.

He insists it’s just the return of the cold!  It has been going on too long now!

Friday morning I was up at four making us lemon and honey.

The cough was troubling him again early this morning.

We have been not going anywhere for weeks now just walking the dog in the woods.

Early on in all of this he insisted he would go up to the shop late evening when it was quiet, which he did.  I am the usual cavalier one in the relationship, he is Mr Sensible, the roles have been strangely reversed?

When he tried the same trick last weekend I was having none of it!

‘Look, if you’re not worried about yourself think about other innocent people!’

Boom!... have some of that I thought!  Even though I say it myself, I have a way with words!?!

Anyway it hit home.

I think more than anything it’s the not knowing?

For the life of...

 me I can’t remember who actually gave me this...

I think it was my friend Julia.  Who I worked with lots of years ago in an employment agency.  She was a full-on sort of a woman, not full-on in a Kama Sutra sort of a way but she made complaining an art form.  Truth in her tales didn’t figure largely.

As she sat opposite the door to the office, she had first sight of whoever came in.  This way channelling the odd balls and downbeats my way.  She would pick up the phone making an ‘important’ call if she didn’t like the cut of their jib!  Me, well I was there to find people a job so I moved heaven and earth to get them a suitable placement.  As a consequence I got quite a following of folk who until I hit town had not been shown the due respect they thought they deserved.  One girl I remember so well, a rather large lassie, who prior to coming out to look for a job had obviously showered and liberally talcum powdered all the important bits.  Whether it was to prevent the chaffing of thighs we’ll never know? She certainly left an indelible impression on us, as the plastic seat she sat on carried a perfect powdered 
impression of her bum.  Try as we might with soap and water it never came off... why?  Who knows?  Maybe the oil from her body?  It  was my job to find everyone of them a job!  It wasn’t always easy.  Now I am not making myself to be a paragon of virtue, far from it.  As the door closed I would do three laps of the ceiling  complaining that once again I was set up.  Julia would laugh and on we would go.

On one occasion she came to stay with me in York, she had a young Spanish bloke in tow who she was quite taken with.  On our day trip to Whitby as I drove us past the Fylingdales military radar tracking station she turned in the passenger seat to ‘Jose’ and told him some cock and bull story about the tennis ball domes on the skyline.  His English wasn’t that good so some I suppose, got lost in the translation!?!

Under my breath I said

‘Why an earth did you tell him that  load of old bull?’

She laughed saying

‘He would have enjoyed my story much better than the truth!’
I couldn’t argue with that, as I certainly had!

She was incorrigible!

I couldn’t help but like her.

Sadly she died many years ago.

I am sure it was just the sort of book Julia would have given me.

One of my favourite expressions..

‘a fit with my leg in the air!’

One of many I ought to say.

However to match my wacky way of looking at the world I now have a table of the same persuasion...

This was one leg after himself battled all morning with our new garden table.

This is the solution, far from ideal however it did pass most of a day while we got to grips with the Chinese flat pack.

You will see his Heath Robinson answer to the problem, back left leg...

The top is bowed, so the next thing is will the glass stand the strain?

Ooh.. the excitements of

lock down.