54. And don’t forget the Euros…
I’ll sing you one, oh, Green grow the rushes, ho,
What is your one, oh?
One more sleep till the end of term: one Inset Day to go, ho.
53. When they got to Owl’s old house…
… they found everybody there except Eeyore. Christopher Robin was telling them what to do, and Rabbit was telling them again directly afterwards, in case they hadn’t heard, and then they were all doing it. They had got a rope and were pulling Owl’s chairs and pictures and things out of his old house so as to be ready to put them into his new one. Kanga was down below tying the things on, and calling out to Owl, “You won’t want this dirty dish-cloth any more, will you, and what about this carpet, it’s all in holes,” and Owl was calling back indignantly, “Of course I do! It’s just a question of arranging the furniture properly, and it isn’t a dishcloth, it’s my shawl.”
“Sorry,” I croak, between coughs, “I’ll sleep in the spare room.”
“No, you won’t,” mumbles ActorLaddie.
For a micro-second, I’m touched by his solicitude and then I remember.
“Though if you can find the sofa bed, feel free,” he adds.
52. List, list, oh list
Friday 5th July
8 stone 13, alcohol units last night 1 (excellent), cigarettes nil (excellent), calorie intake last night lots (poor), strong coffees so far 2 (and counting)
9 am. Serious packing calls for serious measures. Moving to a house half the size of this one. ActorLaddie says we need to be calm, purposeful and proactive. Agree.
Downloaded time-management book for Kindle which suggests making of list of essential tasks, prioritising and working through in order. Essential defined as only tasks related to job in hand. Job in hand being getting everything prepared for removal men who arrive at 8 am in three days time. Need a list. Must on no account get distracted by writing blog.
Will go and make list. Coffee first.
9.30 am. Things to be done today:
Make list
Clear garage: box up pots etc, dump rubbish
Dismantle greenhouse and take to bungalow
Go through clothes, pack, excess to Oxfam
Go through stuff brought out of loft, box, dispose of excess
I will not get distracted by doing blog
Meet with electrician
Empty and sort cupboard under stairs
Post excess furniture on Freegle
Pack up books, and books, and books
Take unwanted books to Red Cross bookshop
Do not read them
Tell all re change of address
Go to dump
Take repeat prescription to chemist
Do not post blog until have done all above.
Do not get distracted by copy of Bridget Jones’s Diary
Oh bugger.
51. Warning: Contains scenes of mild sexual innuendo…
… Said the film certification for last night’s showing of The Globe On Screen’s production of Twelfth Night.
“Some are born great …”
“Cheeky…”
50. With Many a Winding Turn
“I’ve just thought,” says ActorLaddie, adjusting his rucksack on the platform. “That’s the first time she’s travelled on the underground.”
GrannieBorders would have like that. Being amused was her default setting. She was an easy audience: anything out of the ordinary would simply make her laugh. We are talking here about someone who once claimed their favourite film was On the Buses.
49. Under Starter’s Orders
Dear Mr Dickens,
I think it was most unfair of you to claim that the ‘one great aim of English Law is to make business for itself.’ (Apologies if that’s not quite right. A Levels were some time ago and the neurology waiting room inexplicably fails to have a copy of Bleak House to hand.)
48. Yo, Kanye, I’m really happy for you…
“Ocado suggests I might want some Root Retoucher.” ActorLaddie looks up from his laptop. “What do you think?”
If you’ve met ActorLaddie, you’ll know that having his roots redone is fairly low on the To-Do list, as his style guru is Eric Morcambe.
My Junk folder, on the other hand, is brimmed to overflowing – if you’ll forgive the expression – with adverts for Viagra. Someone out there in Google-land has figured that searching for a lot of computer stuff makes me a bloke and, what’s more, one in need of a little help.
47. This sporting life
“Now then, jellybabies. In a minute, we are going down to the field to practise for our Sports Day. I want you to take off your jumper or cardy and put it on your chair. Then slip on your PE shoes. Then come and sit back on the carpet. OK?” Heads nod. “So, just to check – we’re not taking off our trousers are we?” A chorus of Nos. “And we’re not taking off our skirts?” No! “Or our summer dresses?” No! “And if you take off your skin, fold it carefully in your shoes, so you don’t lose it.” Howls of laughter. An easy audience – next week, the Glasgow Empire.
46. That which we call a rose…
When we set up our first IT suite, I wrote the name of each computer on its monitor for ease of identification.
So there I’d be in class, leading a rousing chorus of ‘Three Sailors went to Sea’ (easy to strum; no Fs), when a small child would appear at my elbow with the message that Flo wasn’t coming on. I could then reply that Flo tended to have a sticky disk drive and suggest checking that she didn’t have a floppy still in it. Then turn her off, turn her on and she’d roar into life with the full power of her 8 Mb. Simples.
45. Re: Annual Renewal of Parkinson’s
Mr J Hunt
Secretary of State for Health
Dear Mr Hunt,
I am writing to thank you for my year’s free trial which finishes at a quarter past three this afternoon, assuming that we are counting from the moment of official diagnosis.
I have been considering whether to renew my membership of the Grand Order of Persons With Parkinson’s; that elite band of comrades with its not-so-secret handshake. Frankly, I am still undecided.
The Jelly Chronicles 