195. Knock, knock – who’s there?
Talking of which, this response has flooded in following my last blog. What a genius way to deal with cold callers!
“My brother … would greet them with the message ‘we are experiencing a very high volume of enquiries today but your call is important to us. Please hold the line’ and then follow up by playing Wagner until they lost the will to live.”
146. Your suite’s too big…. (with apologies to George Melly)
I called into the nursery on my way home from work, full of end of term good-will. I’d get a Christmas tree up and ready for when ActorLaddie got back and we could start the holidays in piney perfection. The chosen tree had a lovely shape; plenty of needles, smelt of Christmas.
The kids helped me lug it up the stairs to the living room – this being when we had GrannyBorders installed on the ground floor. Decorations ready, festive ginger wine poured. We just needed to put the tree in its stand, take off the netting – and that’s when I found that it was too big for the bay.
99. Just between you and me….
“We seem to be heading for the station. Should I have brought my wallet?” asks Pa.
“Should I have changed? I don’t look very smart,” worries Ma.
They have been persuaded by LittleBro to go for a mystery trip in his car on the promise that “he has something he wants to show them.” You’d think they’d know better than to get in a car with a strange man.
“Surely that’s their son?” you cry. Indeed he is. Doesn’t stop him being strange. Probably explains it, in fact.
91. Fly away Peter, fly away Paul. Come back Peter…
In the beginning of years, when the world was so new and all, a trip to the pictures gave you much, much more than a main feature.
Not being quite as old as my class imagine, I don’t personally remember cinema-organists; although ActorLaddie had a great-uncle who, rather romantically, met his wife when they were both playing in the pit orchestra for a silent movie.
All I can offer in comparison is a very close relative who met her husband while bunking into a cinema. She was, apparently, the designated chump who paid for a ticket and then opened the back door for the others. She denies it now, of course, and claims they met in a coffee bar. But then she would, wouldn’t she?
61. I love work: I could watch it for hours…
‘Twas on a Friday morning, Ocado came to call
Bringing all our shopping was a cheery chap called Paul.
We gave him lots of plastic bags; we’d built up quite a heap
But he stuffed them up the chimney and we had to call the …. Continue reading →
31. With two cats in the yard; life used to be so hard…
“When people look round your house,” says LittleSis, “they are actually considering whether they want to buy your life-style.” She’s a regular Kirsty-and-Phil, is my sister.
So, the people who haven’t made an offer on our house are actually rejecting our life-style: rejecting us, in fact. This bemuses me. Granted, the house does have the look of a library about it but then who wouldn’t want to live in a library?
Don’t answer – I’m feeling a bit raw about all this.
25. Passnotes no. 3, 200 Kerb Appeal
Age: Since Wilma stuffed a large pot of winter flowering pansies by the cave entrance in an attempt to hide the recycling bins.
Huh? I said, kerb appeal. Or, if you are my American reader, curb appeal. Hi there. How’s the snow?
Is it because the lines of people queuing to buy your house are annoying the neighbours? Like all those nannies in Mary Poppins. Explain?
That you are trying to curb the appeal of your house. Would that it were, my fair friend, would that it were. Alas, since our house hit the market last weekend we have had but one viewing and that was a very elderly couple who struggled to get up the stairs. It does beg the question as to why they were looking around a four bedroom house but I guess that’s their business.
Not brewing enough coffee? Lack of bread smells? Jellywoman is working on the basis that the house is still lacking in kerb appeal. She is spending the weekend trying to increase the likelihood of enticing passers-by to come and buy.
But you’re at the end of a cul-de-sac. You have no passers-by. Jellywoman is also considering getting InfantPhenomenon to don a sandwich board pointing out the proximity of our house to an Outstanding school and pace up and down outside less Outstanding schools at clocking out time.
So how is this kerb appeal thing going to work? Jellywoman has already borrowed an ace pressure washer from LittleBruv and tackled the paving stones in the front garden. Some of them are red! Who knew?
Is that it? Egad, no. Jellywoman now plans to steal many garden pots from the aged p’s and hit the nursery in the hope of finding something that actually looks good in this weather.
And ActorLaddie? Been charged with sprucing up the paintwork on the rail which stops GrannieBorders plunging over the side of the ramp.
Talking of GrannieBorders… Best not, at the moment. But Ma’s operation went well this week and she’s back home.
Why are you telling us about this kerb appeal thing? To explain why I haven’t had time to write a blog this weekend.
Do say: Best get up and started then.
Don’t say: Does this mean that if you haven’t sold your house by next weekend, we’ll be spared future blogs too?
The Jelly Chronicles 