181. Extraordinary how potent cheap music is…
“We’d been calling all afternoon,” said Douglas’s daughter. “We were about to have one last try when he rang us. Apparently he’d been out with some neighbours. They’d gone, Dad told us, to ‘sing to the old people’.” (Douglas was nearly ninety four.) “I do hope he mimed. Even the old people don’t deserve Dad’s singing.”
180. Mind my bike…
“That’s my bike, I never stealed it.”
Mrs Berry gives Scoundrel one of her Hard Stares; always effective and now finely honed by her elevation to Deputy Head in one of the toughest areas of the borough. I like to think that at this stage she looked sternly over her spectacles, a move guaranteed to send fear into the most hardened of miscreants. I’ve seen her do this to great effect in many a staff meeting.
178. The Spirit of Christmas Present..
The Secret Santa present for work needs to be handed in tomorrow, so, as soon as I’ve finished this blogette, I’m going to tackle the first wrapping of the season. I’m wondering, did you happen to catch the brilliant Secret Santa story covered in Friday afternoon’s ‘You and Yours’? If not, let me share.
177. He’s making a list and checking it twice…
“Good evening,” says Hazza. “We’re collecting for the local Rotary Group. This year’s charities are the Nightingale Children’s Hospice, Noah’s Ark Hospice and Parkinson’s UK.” Hazza smiles winningly and holds out her tin.
As befits a groovy media student in Swinging London, my niece Hazza chooses her outfits with care. Tonight she is bedecked in a red and green elf dress layered with a fetching hi-vis tabard which has been printed boldly with the details of said Rotary Club. The look is topped off with a cheeky little elf hat. Take note, fashionistas – next year, we’ll all be wearing this.
The Householder peers at her suspiciously. “Do you have an identity card?”
“Well, not actually a card,” says Hazza, “ but our details are here.” And she points to her tabard. Householder still looks suspicious and seems about to close the door. “And,” adds Hazza quickly,” I do have Santa with me.”
176. But oh, those Nordic Nights …
“Who’s he? Have we seen him before?”
“He’s married to the woman who posts the blog.”
“The vlog. We’ve established it’s a vlog.”
“Yes her. With the blond hair.”
“OK. Can you pause it a minute? OK. Tak.”
Put aside quilt. Dash into bedroom and return with reel of thread. Install self back on sofa and start to thread needle.
“OK?” says ActorLaddie. “Say when.”
“Nu. Tak… Hang on – who’s he? Is that the Russian Roulette guy?”
175. Atlantic Crossing…
It’s two in the morning when the phone starts to ring. I stumble onto the landing; this being the early 80s and cordless phones the stuff of science fiction.
“Hello!” A voice bellows in my ear. Very loud; very Irish. “Is Mary there?”
“It’s two o’clock in the morning,” I answer. “She’ll be in bed.”
“Is Mary there?” comes back the yell. “It’s her brother in New York.”
“It’s still two o’clock in the morning – she’ll still be in bed,” I repeat.
“Can you get Mary for me?” I give up, go downstairs and bang on the bedroom door.
“Your brother’s on the phone again.” Eventually Mary appears, dressing-gowned and curlered. I make my way back to bed while my landlady and Seamus yell across the Atlantic at each other.
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174. That Friday feeling…
This Friday, 6th November, there’s a quiet little bill coming up before the House of Commons which could make a massive difference to people who have, or who might get, cancer, MS, Altzhemiers or a host of other conditions including good old PD. So that’s everyone, basically.
173. You put your right hand it…
We’re jumping into a pile of leaves under the big conker tree at the corner of the playground; me and a handful of dots. The colours glow in the late afternoon sun and, once we’ve finished jumping, me and the dots, we start to choose our favourite leaves. We run our fingers over the veins, the shape, the edges. We compare colours, textures, smell. It’s a rather magical way to spend time on an October afternoon. And I’m being paid for it!
172. A thought
I was talking with friends about how interesting life is at the moment. I did think that I’d be teaching full time until gone sixty.
The Jelly Chronicles 