Dulltown, UK: Today’s carefully selected adjectives are: crunchy, ovate, shrieval, tussocky, soboliferous, iracund, and foppish.
Short, but pithy items eh?
Well, what with this current self-isolation, and that all the cafés have shut down, my observations of life here in Dulltown, and overheard snatches of conversion have, as you can imagine, been pretty hard to come by.
So, today’s post will be cobbled together using stuff on the few remaining scraps of paper from my notebook jotted down some weeks ago.
Let’s pretend dear reader, just for a moment, that things are normal:
Excuses for being late. No. 441.
I’m sorry I’m late, but on the way I suddenly had qualms…
A single overheard remark:
‘I’ll buy you contact lenses Ricky, but you’re not having a trampoline!…’
‘Excuse me, which side of the aisle is it for pork chops?’
‘Meat to your right…’
Perhaps some old music might liven us up?
How about this?
Come on, let’s dance round the garden in the rain! (Click here!)
It seems to me that young children spend most of their time learning how to be teenagers, then, when they are teenagers they can spend most of their time learning how to be adults – but most people prefer to skip that stage…
In the café, about a month ago, as I sat musing and twiddling my pen between my fingers, there was suddenly a waft – an intriguing smell. It was a fairly rich, almost woody odour, much like that of freshly sharpened pencils. But nothing really smells like freshly sharpened pencils, does it? Maybe it’s a special wood that they use; then there’s the graphite component too. Anyway, I looked around the place to see what the source of this might be. And yes, there he was!
A new arrival, a middle-aged man in tweed jacket and brogues, short grey hair, polished oak bald patch on top, tobacco pipe in top pocket, holding a tray with a teapot and cup, and a toasted teacake on it, he was peering round looking for a suitable table. He sat down at the one next to me. I looked across and I said, ‘Hoy!…’
He said, ‘What?’
I said, ‘You smell of freshly sharpened pencils.’
He said, ‘Yes, I know… Does it annoy you?’
‘Not at all,’ I responded.
Of course, this interchange was only in my head.
What about some spam? I’m glad to see that the spam is still flopping in as usual. Here’s a piece from someone with the unlikely name of Gardenna:
In case you have an adolescent baby, consider using your current child in a bookbag although your garden. Being out of doors is a good stimulating experience to get the infant, plus they will get to hang out with an individual. Since plants grow more slowly in the shortened days and nights of slide, add a couple of months to the time posted on the seed box.
Well, thank you Gardenna, you have opened my eyes to things that I would not normally think about. Me, I always dread the nights of slide when they approach this time of year, but I feel reassured by your pithy words. Do get in touch again soon!
Yes, I think I’ll be changing my name to Sue Pernova.
A final single overheard remark:
‘No John, I put them on my eyeballs…’