Category Archives: Home

262. A Jelly Miscellany…

It’s been how long?  A month?  Surely not…  Oh dear.  Let’s catch up then.

Back from our travels and plunged into getting the living room decorated ready for CarpetMan to do his stuff last Monday.  We’ve been working on this since the spring but with a week to the deadline, still had the fireplace to tile.

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261: Candle in the wind?

The Danish word for Baking Soda is Bagepulver and if you’re looking for it in Lidl’s in the Copenhagen district of Frederiksberg, it’s in aisle three alongside the flour.

I was convinced that the scorch mark on the pristine white kitchen units of our AirBnB came about through me putting the toaster onto the chopping board, thereby bringing it too close to the wall unit.  ActorLaddie said that I would have noticed if the wood started burning but, in truth, I do have a habit of wandering off from the kitchen mid-task.   Especially if I’ve got a blog rattling round in my head.  So really, Dearest Reader, it’s your fault.

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259. The mystery of the Vanished Blog…

Act 1 Scene 1: A partially decorated living room in North London; crammed with furniture. Evening.  There is a large picture window at the back.  Empty mugs show evidence of recent human activity.

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Off stage, a phone is heard ringing.  It switches to answerphone.

Ma: (off stage) Just wondering if you were home yet.

Pause

Ma: (off stage) Hope you’ve had a good weekend.

Pause

Ma: (off stage) Haven’t seen a blog recently.

Pause

Ma: (off stage)  Catch you when you’re back then.

Curtain.

 

Programme Notes.

Meanwhile, in Salisbury, ActorLaddie and I are bunking off the endless decorating to see a friend performing at the Playhouse.  We’ve shoved the furniture from the end of the room we haven’t done into the end that we have; the painting stuff has been left out in case any wandering elves have had a spare minute.

The Airbnb is rather wonderful – look:

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It’s run by a hearty woman with dogs who shows us to our room up a rather splendid staircase: Escher would have liked this one.

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Salisbury is gorgeous in the crisp Autumn sunlight.  I’ve not been before, though ActorLaddie played here on a tour ages ago.

I’m awestruck by the Cathedral: apparently the main section took only thirty eight years to build – from 1220 to 1258. How the blazes something this spectacular was built at that time is beyond my comprehension. AND they managed to keep up to date with their blogs. One can only look and wonder.

Inside, there’s a Chapter House built to house a 1215 copy of the Magna Carta.  The room has a frieze of stories from Genesis.  The guide, Chris, pointed out his favourite section: the sculptor had been tasked with showing the Pharoah driving his chariot into the Red Sea, in pursuit of Moses. Clearly having no idea what a Pharoah or a chariot might resemble, he gives us instead a rather splendid farmyard cart.  Can you spot it?

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Patrons are now asked to leave this blog quietly, so as not to disturb the sunset.

IMG_20171028_175350005-EFFECTSFor your own safety, you are particularly asked to pay attention to this warning on the reverse of one of Carrot’s bog-standard, badgeless birthday card.

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240. They go up diddley-up up; they go down diddley down down…

Pick us, Miss, pick us! Look how neatly we have lidded our marker pens! And see our flip-chart of ideas – a thing of beauty, too, in many colours, to which we all contributed collaboratively, working as a team…

Apart, that is, for the cow who teaches at – well, you know the one. Her anyway. Didn’t want to come on the course in the first place.  Thought ‘Schemas in the Under Sevens’ was going to be about curriculum plans and not fannying around with a load of bricks. The only thing that’s stopping her playing with a mobile phone is that they’ve not yet been invented.  We’d be better off teaching six year olds to name parts of speech, according to her.  What a dinosaur!

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239. Um…

“The thing is, before I retired, I used to rush around on a Sunday trying to get everything done.  But I’m finding now that I say ‘I’ll do this, that and the other tomorrow’ and do something else instead.  Then whatever it was never gets done.  Do you find that?”

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238. One of these things is not like the others…

I’d popped into Lidl’s really for some packets of herb seeds.  I’ll not say this too loudly, at risk of causing a stampede – we’re not too far from the site of the Great Ikea Riot of 2005 – but you can get a packet of parsley seeds for just 49p in Lidl’s.  I know, amazing isn’t it! And then I spotted a packet of Mixed Annuals.

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231. More like a hawk than a handsaw…

“I think it looks like a rabbit; sort of leaping sideways.  Like in the film of Watership Down … you know, the Bright Eyes bit.”

ActorLaddie puts on his peering glasses.  “I was thinking a gun, myself.”

“Well that,” I say self-righteously, “is the difference between us.”

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228. Good luck will rub off…

What am I like? Here am I inviting you… nay, begging you …. to read my blogs – hundreds of the little blighters – (the early ones are the best: less parentheses) and not once have I given a moment’s thought to your safety whilst doing so.  Not a glimmer of a risk assessment has crossed my mind.

Yet, while immersed in the Jelly Chronicles (I have a particular fondness for number four), you might be putting yourself in all sorts of dangers.  Heavens, your solicitor could, at this very moment, be preparing a claim for damages!  I must remedy this remissness without delay.

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221. With his head tucked underneath his arm…

“It’s Mrs Jellywoman, isn’t it?”

I am at the gym (thanks for all the helpful hints – so far, so good), face to face with a jolly woman, probably in her mid-sixties.  Though she might be ninety-eight but really, really benefiting from regular work-outs.  She does look familiar but I can’t quite place her.  I’m vaguely thinking Jacob’s nan; Jacob, whose suggestion for a word containing the ‘ee’ sound was “weed – like what you smoke.”  Maybe, maybe not…

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217.When troubles come…

Life can turn on a sixpence.

Ann from next door and I were chatting yesterday whilst sweeping leaves off the pavement.  Ann has an uncle – we’ll call him Pat – in his mid-nineties.  He’s been married for forty-seven years to his second wife.  Let’s call her Jess.  She’s about ten years younger than Uncle Pat, so mid-eighties.  There are two sons, both abroad.

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