Everard's Twinkle

Well, last week my friend, Everard took a job with the council painting white lines in the middle of the road. This was all because Dr. Tizzard had said he should get out more into the fresh air and get a job with a bit of bending as he needed to tighten the back of his legs up.

I saw him yesterday in the middle of the road, paint brush in hand, bending over in a ballet position. Then as I walked up behind him I saw something twinkle at me. 'Everard,' I said 'What a funny place to put a cats-eye!, whose idea was it to stitch it to the seat of your trousers?'

He said, 'Well, I'm afraid of being bumped from behind when I'm bending over at dusk, I had a near miss yesterday whilst I was painting NO ENTRY on the contraflow outside The Whippet Inn, at least now they can see me.'

'Yes, ' I said 'But you can't go into the Friend In Hand with that stuck on your trousers.'

'Why not indeed?' he said. 'It's a talking point. I'm thinking of having one sewn on the front as well, they're only like big sequins.'

'Everard,' I said 'I shall never understand you if I wait from now until my lettuce comes up. Sometimes your shyness itself, then all of a sudden you seem to welcome a pointed finger. Come along, put your brush away, I've been keeping something warm for you in the oven all afternoon, faggots and peas.'

Well, I've never seen anyone move so quickly, and within ten minutes he was sitting in front of my fire using his fork like a steam shovel.

'Everard,' I said 'Calm down, there's peas all over the carpet. You were never like this when we used to have afternoon tea at the Gypsy Cream Cafe, it used to take you half an hour to nibble through a drop scone. You're eating as if the worlds going to end tomorrow, two days after you last came round I swear I found an old faggot behind my lazy susan.'

Blanche Hackett

What a miserable week we're having. I nipped into the wool shop this morning to get out of the rain but it didn't let up. So I thought whilst I was there I might as well get some wool. I was just standing there trying to make my mind up whether to knit myself a long vest with a flap, or go the whole hog and knit an all-in-one bodywarmer with a mandarin collar and kneepads, when who should walk up but Blanche Hackett.

'Blanche!' I cried, 'I haven't seen you since the harvest festival at St Agatha's, when you fell against the font and grabbed the Vicar's surplice.'

'No,' she said, 'I've been in hospital again having my seventh baby, and that's seven in six years, I feel as if I'm never off my back.'

'I don't know how you do it, Blanche,' I said ' Washing all those nappies in this weather, it must play havoc with your hands. I only have to rinse through a couple of tea-towels and my hands are raw.'

'I don't mind that so much,' She said 'It's my nerves, they're shot to pieces. I only have to hear a bedspring creak and I come out in a cold sweat!'

'Come along Blanch,' I said 'What you need is a bit of lunch, something light, come back to mine and I'll do you a bit of fish poached in milk'

'Oh that sounds ideal Lal. The last thing I want at the moment is something heavy lying on my stomach.'

The Quaker Girl

Do you know, I woke up this morning and I could hardly get the beef tea to my lips. It took me forty-five minutes to get out of bed. And to think how I used to jump out of the hammock. Last week I had it all down my left side. This week it's all down the right side. I can't wait for next week can I!.

I wasn't always like this you see, when I was younger I was a chorus boy in all of those old musical like 'The Wild Violet,' 'The Quaker Girl,' 'Rose-Marie,' I turned down the Chocolate Soldier.

Dr. Tizzard : part two.

Well in the end Dr. Tizzard didn't need to send a car as the Army Dispatch rider was a dab hand with a pumpshaft and what he didn't know about greasing nipple valves wasn't worth mentioning. And it wasn't a total waste of time for me either because 'The Trusting Chef' were holding an all comers rumba and I just happened to have my frilly shirt in the holdall, I came in first place and had my dance card marked for the next four years. Anyway, I digress. We eventually got back and and I went straight to Dr. Tizzards. 'Doctor,' I said, 'I feel so well now I can't remember why I'm here.'

'Lal,' He said, 'It's just as well to have a check up now and again. Tell me, have you had any problems over the last few months, and if not, why not!'

'I did have a couple of problems while I was away in pantomime, I had trouble with a large woman that kept standing on the back of my long wig and a frisky shetland pony that kept nibbling but apart from that I've been in the pink. Except my little usual things like feeling as faint as a robin when I lift my head from the pillow in the morning and I still keep going limp when there's an 'r' in the month, but I've lived with that for years. It doesn't affect me socially, I still mingle.'

'Lal,' He said, 'You sound as if you're almost back to your normal health. Keep up the good work, but do come and see me from time to time, because I haven't been feeling that well lately, and it's nice to have a chat with a friend when you've spent most of the night lying awake, looking at the ceiling hoping the throbbing will stop.'

'Doctor,' I said, 'Anytime you're feeling under the weather and need to have a chat, you know where I live, that's what friends are for, to give a comforting word or maybe share a joke. Don't worry, why don't you shut up now and have a glass of wincarnis and a lie down? You'll feel much better after a little doze.'

'Yes,' he said, 'maybe you're right. I have been overdoing it, and another thing, I've been reading so many books lately on diseases and their symptoms that I'm beginning to imagine that I've got every illness under the sun.'

'It's easily done,' I said, ' I remember Everard reading a book on dogs once, and it took the vet three months to convince him that he didn't have hard pad!'

A drink with Dr. Tizzard

Yes, I was up bright and early this morning and I'd just finished packing my holdall when Winn came in to say there were no trains running as two of the drivers had witlows. Well I was in a state of flux as I had to get back for an appointment with Dr. Tizzard. He wanted to see me before I came away but I had to put him off. 'Winn, what ever shall I do?'

'Well,' she said. 'You could always hitch-hike.'

'I haven't hitched my hike for years but I'll give it a go.' Just two hours later, there I was at the side of the road, looking like a lost soul. All that passed by was a herd of cows, a vicar on a bicycle and an old lady pushing a pram of firewood. Then suddenly, a shy retiring Army dispatch rider pulled up on his motorcycle. 'Hop on,' he cried, 'I'm sure I'm going your way.' And he was.

Hey ho, up hill, down dale. What a gay day, I thought. I haven't gone as fast as this since the day Everard and I were cycling down to Monks Bottom and the brakes failed on the tandem. But of course I should have realised that things were going too well, and lo and behold, just as we were going through Worksop the engine seized up. Well the first thing I did was phone Dr. Tizzard. 'Doctor,' I said, 'I've just had a breakdown in Worksop.'

'That's not unusual,' He said,' try and get a grip of yourself, take a sedative and get here as soon as you can. Tell me have you been crying as yet?'

'No,' I said.

'You will,' He replied. 'You will,'

'No, Doctor. I think you've got the wrong end of the stick, I haven't had a nervous breakdown but I've been traveling with a friend and he's just seized up.'

'Not to worry, there's a little cafe in Worksop, go there and have a cup of tea, I'll send a car.'

Well, I found the cafe, It was called The Trusting Chef, which I though a very strange name, especially as the only teaspoon was on a chain at the counter and all the tablecloths were nailed down!

To be continued . . .

A restless night

Since the weather changed I've been having restless nights. I just managed to drop off last night when the phone rang. I must have been in a deeper sleep than I thought as I sat bolt upright and shouted 'All aboard for the Queen Mary!', Well, when I realised where I was I took off my face mask and answered the phone, It was my friend, Everard.

'Oh Lal, I'm glad I caught you', he said, 'I know you've not been yourself of late and things have been getting on top of you'

Well he's right there, I've not been sleeping because of the weather but it seems that everything is setting me off at the moment, I was in tears last night just watching Emmerdale, Oh I do miss Joe Sugden.

Well Everard waffled on for ten minutes trying to take my mind off it all with mindless chit chat when I said to him 'Everard, will you please get to the point, I've been in bed for over two hours!'

'Oh, Sorry Lal,' He replied, 'I was just calling to remind you to take your sleeping tablets'

The contortionist

I found this old picture of my friend Winifred and her husband whilst cleaning up the other day. It wasn't a full clean just a flick round with the pledge and a bit of light dusting. Oh it did bring back memories. She was wonderful woman was Winifred. She was double jointed, and for years she toured the music halls as a contortionist, and even at the age of seventy three she could still bend over backwards, put her head between her legs and whistle 'Mother McCree'

'Winn,' I used to say, 'You certainly haven't lost your touch, I don't know how you do it. I only have to lift my leg to put a sock on and I go dizzy, Tell me, what is the secret?'

'Well,' She said, 'I have a wonderful husband, and every night before we went to bed he would think up a new position for me, and he wouldn't turn out the light until I had it right.'

'Winn, ' I said. 'He must be devoted to you. How many men would take the trouble to do that?'

'Yes. ' She said. 'and sometimes if it was a difficult position he used to applaud.'

'Winn,' I said, 'What a happy life you must have led, doing something you enjoyed, and giving pleasure to the masses. I remember seeing you at the old Hippodrome when you used to tie yourself in a knot and invite members of the audience to untie you, what a finale that was, they could never unravel you!.'

'No, never,' She said 'but I can let you in on the secret, What they never realised is that all they had to do was ease the foot out of my mouth , then everything else followed. But they always went for the other bits and just made it tighter, people forget I was the first person in this country to go down a totem-pole like a cork screw whilst singing a selection from Rose-Marie!'

'You couldn't do that nowadays!' I said

'No,' she said, 'I can't remember the words!'

Crisis talks

I'd just run a bucket of bleach and hot water and was looking forward to dipping my nets this morning when the phone went. It was Ada Gringle in a right two and eight. The poor Woman was in tears. I couldn't get any sense out of her so I suggested we met in the Gypsy Cream cafe in twenty minutes. I only had time to pop some talcum powder in my Marigolds before I had to set off.

Twenty minutes later and I was sat in the Gypsy Cream. It was fair packed for a Wednesday and it wasn't until I ordered a pot of tea and a honey rusk that I found out why. Bessie Babcock who runs the Gypsy Cream was telling me that since they closed the Train Station the 'Railway Buffet Old Comrades Society' had started meeting there.

Well I asked one old man to move his pikestaff and I took a table in the window. I didn't have to wait long before Ada turned up at the door in a full length fur coat, headscarf and red wellingtons. 'Ada' I cried out, 'What on earth is the matter'.

'Lal, I've never been so embarrased in all my life.' It turns out she'd had a booking with her Palm Court Trio for a local Wedding only her agent Vera Titsall had given her the wrong address. 'You can't be blamed for that' I said whilst throwing her an old fashioned look.

'It's worse than that Lal, Only I'd been booked for the Wedding of the Vicars Daughter and the Naked ladies Choir had been booked for a stag do at the 'Cock and Trumpet', You know the Naked Ladies Choir? they're another client of Vera's, their tag line is Music to Millions and pleasure to the deaf. Well you can imagine the mess, There was I with my palm court trio in the snug at the Cock and Trumpet whilst the wedding party was subjected to the naked ladies singing 'She was only the fishmongers daughter but she'd lay on her back and shout Fillet!'

'I think I'd better order some more honey rusks'

A tube of Firey Jack

Do you know I woke up this morning and I could hardly get the beef tea to my lips. My lower back was in agony and it took me forty-five minutes to get out of bed. Forty-five minutes!. And to think how I used to jump out of the hammock.

Not much of a post today as I'm in too much pain. I'm going to give Slack a call and see if she'll pop to Dr. Tizzards for some Wincarnas and a tube of Firey Jack. Slack has a bit of experience with back pain and Lumbago because her first husband died of it. I remember when she told me I said to her 'But Slack, you can't die from Lumbago!'

'Well my Stan did' she snapped, 'I rubbed some Whisky on his back and he broke his neck trying to lick it off'