39. Be it ever so humble
The old chap on the doorstep is called Roger and he’s holding an estate agents’ brochure of our house. We don’t recognise the name of the company but the photo of the front is definitely our street.
“I see you’ve sold,” he says, nodding at the board in the garden. “I’ve come all the way from Dorset hoping to see inside.”
After a bit of a chat, we invite him in and give him the tour. “It says in the brochure that the hall has oak panelled walls,” remarks Roger.
“It did. But we found them a bit gloomy and painted the hall white. We’ve still got the platter-rack though.”
“But no platters?”
“Afraid not. We did for some time have our overspill of paperback books on them but whenever GrannieBorders bashed into the skirting boards, they fell on her head. After she was nearly concussed by a Dorothy L Sayers, we just bought another bookcase.” Continue reading →
38. Ding dong the bells are gonna chime…
Thirty years ago yesterday, I woke with the stone cold certainty that we were doing the wrong thing. It had become crystal clear to me overnight that we had made a mistake.
“We can’t do this,” I told ActorLaddie. “We’ll have to cancel.”
37. Keep on running
“’Jellygirl approaches games lessons with enthusiasm’,” reads ActorLaddie.
I am weeding the file labelled ‘instruction booklets’ and look up to find that he is holding one of my old school reports.
“In other words, ‘Jellygirl is rubbish at games’,” I translate. I am fluent in Report Speak. “We appear to have an instruction booklet for the coffee table.”
36. Listen, do you want to know a secret…?
“Did you know that Parkinson’s Awareness Week is next week?” says InfantPhenomenon. She’s just started work as a trainee journalist and is calling me in her coffee break. I, however, am on Easter holidays and evading doing school-work by skulking in bed with coffee and a Kindle. Lounging around while the children are at work; Earth hath not anything to show more fair.
35. Marmite Maggie
ReadingColleague’s birthday last night and we gathered at her house for a very jolly evening of chilli and chat. Mostly workmates or other teacher friends.
I shared the news that we have accepted an offer on our house! A new estate agent last Tuesday led to a viewing on Wednesday from a young couple who were able to climb the stairs without stopping for a breather. The chap won over ActorLaddie’s heart when he said he could look out into the garden while cooking. AL had to be restrained from giving him soup recipes there and then. They will make lovely neighbours for our lovely neighbours. So that’s all good.
34. Turn and face the strain
When YoungLochinvar were nought but a nipper, our fridge stopped working. We ordered a replacement but the infant YL was distraught. “I liked the old fridge,” he wailed. In vain we explained that we also liked the old fridge in every respect apart from its inability to keep things cold. YL reproached us for our failure to keep faith with the white goods. He always did have an advanced vocabulary. Thus started Old Fridge Syndrome. More than a quarter of a century later it would be, of course, inappropriate and embarrassing of us to remind YoungLochinvar of O.F.S. every time he faces a major life change. So, naturally, we do. What else are parents for? Continue reading →
33. Mixing memory and desire…
“Can it wait, Layla? I need to get this register to the office.”
“But Mrs Jellywoman – we don’t have no chairs!”
I look at Layla over the top of my glasses. “That’s ‘we haven’t got any chairs’, Layla.”
Layla has younger brothers and so is accustomed to explaining things to the simple. She draws upon this skill now. “Well, you’ve got a chair, Mrs Jellywoman. You’re sitting on it. But we don’t have no chairs.”
The Jelly Chronicles 