A Day in the Life of a Heatwave.
Bertie: “It so bleeding ‘ot! (Sarf London). Can’t put up with this heatwave much longer. How about you Bobby? Bobby? BOBBY? What’s the matter with you? You do look a bit cream crackered. Even Uncle Dick.”
Bobby: “Uhhhhh. Given up. Made an executive decision. Had an outbreak of common sense. I’m giving up!”
Bertie: “What are you rattling on about?”
Bobby: “Simple. I have given up going out again until the weather cools down. Given up Al Anon, National Trust, Waitrose. Mind you Waitrose is lovely and cool, but you have to get in the car to get there.”
Bertie: “So what are you going to do? Loaf around all week?”
Bobby: “No. I am going to do something I have been meaning to do for ages. I am sorting out junk. Memorabilia. Mine first, then Diddley.”
Bertie: “OMG. Gor strike a light. Stone the crows. This is awful.”
Bertie: “Because – you will start and get fed up. It will never get finished and be piled up and shoved back where it came from. And you won’t throw anything away!”
Bobby: “We’ll see, smartarse.”
Bertie: “What are you doing watching tennis? It’s all over the floor.”
Bobby: “It’s a system. First sift. Collect it all together from drawers and cupboards. Give up and watch tennis. Then start sorting into rough piles. Then sort the piles out. Then give up and watch tennis.”
Bertie: “So this is stage…two? And you are watching tennis…!”
Wednesday….. A Day in the Life of a Heatwave.
Bertie: “So, Bobby. Rumour has it today is going to be the hottest yet. Any plans?
Bobby: “Can’t stand it. Wish I hadn’t started, but I must carry on regardless. Prove you wrong. So, we are going to IKEA.”
Bertie: “WHAATTTTT? You must be bleedin joking Forget about me. I’m not coming. And what about the blog?”
Bobby: “I need boxes for sift two. No idea about the blog.”
Bertie: “I have. Keep it simple. Short. Wham bam thank you ma’am.”
Bertie: “Well, he’s driven off. The car is ailing and the mechanic said don’t do any long journeys. So he has gone off in a heatwave. Bleedin nutter!”
Bobby: “Wowww. Sinking feeling developing. Where’s the boxes? Round and Round. Round and Round. Round and Round. Hang on. PILLOWS. Haven’t got any pillows. Took them all to the dump. Black bin mind you. Why, because Merrill inferred with an enigmatic smile that my pillows might be a little … ‘jaded‘. GAD took over. Bubonic plague, millions of mites. That’s it. Dump!
So, no pillows. Which ones? Some of them. Some of them. Posh ones for me. Cheap for the kids. Pillow case liners. Chuck them all in. And the boxes. Chuck them all in. Is it air conditioned in here ? Flipping ‘ot. Queue up… still here… still here… still here and ahhh… £167.50. WHATTT!? Investment. Investment. Investment. Keep saying investment. Calm down. Do some mindful breathing and ask ‘are you mad on the hottest June day for 41 years when you said you were staying in? Hope the car gets back‘!
Cruise home until, suddenly, a heavenly vista is on the horizon. Shall I stop? It’s getting hotter – but yes! This is paradise. This is Mayfield Lavender. On the hottest day of all.
This is smellovision. You look and imagine, or just go there (or to other lavender fields) and breathe in. No more words.
Bobby: “I did go home. Bertie reminded me about the blog, so here it is. In smellovision. The third sift is underway, and taking longer and longer as I revel in what I have accumulated. I’ll share some with you, starting with Spitfire beer. A special promotion for the Battle of Britain a few years ago. Beermats. The Germans could take the joke. Some homegrown saddos couldn’t. There was a little controversy, but no worse than Dad’s Army. Someone said one was obscene….
And all in a day in the life of a heatwave:”
Ha ha ha ha ha ha They don’t like it up ’em. Don’t mention the war. I shall say zis only vonce. Luvverly boy. Ha ha ha ha ha ha.
Lighting a Candle for Diddley.
Dearest, Darling Diddley. Here are the very first sweet peas of the summer. Straight from the allotment. Just as I have always done.
Once again, it’s in smellovision. You look and imagine. Ladies can come round here for the real thing. Blokes can grow their own. They only last a few days, but then you go and pick another bunch. They are not worth buying as cut flowers. They must be cut to avoid going to seed. For some, they are the most beautiful scent in the garden. Or allotment.
Goodbye Michael Bond. Creator of one of the most loved bears in history. Paddington. Talking on a recorded Radio London interview he said “there is something safe about bears where you know they will keep your secrets.”