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Nov. 28th, 2006 10:43 pmIn an absolutely filthy mood this morning. Both the parents had, separately, shouted at me last night for no reason; today's the 15th anniversary of a major trauma; and I wasn't over pleased at the prospect of moving everything in my bedroom around in search of the poetry box key, less than a week after I strained my back humping it all out and back in again for the visit of the TV engineer.
Luck was on my side for once, though. I started by heaving the bed onto its side. I'd thought the key might have gone just under the bed on the near side. It hadn't, but when I disconsolately lowered the bed back onto the floor, it landed a few inches forward. As I went to push it back to the wall, I saw the key shining up at me from the gap between the bed and the wall. Hallelujah!
I immediately clipped the key onto the key ring with my house keys.
Spent the rest of the morning slobbing around watching DVDs, then at noon took the bus down to the Town Hall to check out the poetry box. Hooray, there'd been five poems submitted, most of them very good. I pinned them all up on the board, together with the last two winter-themed ones from the schoolkids and the David Essex-influenced one I wrote last Christmas about Miss K1. Then rushed home to get changed ready for the day's first mayoral function.
We went to the Explosion museum to attend the launch of a book about naval armament. Had a cup of coffee in a little room with the author (a shy bloke who seemed a bit nervous around us), his wife (by contrast, she was very chatty), the photographer and several of the Explosion staff, then sat in a bigger room listening to them all speak for a little while, then back next door for another cup of coffee. On the way out my mother wanted to stop by the Explosion office and talk to the people there; before we were gone, I'd blagged us an official invitation to their Christmas carol service after seeing an advertising poster on a desk.
And so this evening, while Havant & Waterlooville were taking on Team Bath, I was sat in a little café in the town centre having Christmas dinner with the Gosporteers. They were a pleasant enough bunch, even if they were all about 30 years older than me; I did manage to join the odd conversation, notably with Rosemary the former mayoress, whom I knew from Royan, as she talked quite a bit about travel and Eastern Europe, subjects I know enough about to make chit-chat. Next but one to me was Roy, a former long-serving sailor who used a lot of naval slang terms, and was happy to explain the odd one, and told a few interesting tales of his life at sea.
At the start of the drink our waitress asked us all what we'd like to drink (me ma's and my food and drinks were all paid for by the Gosporteers). I heard her telling Roy they did a Chinese lager, Tsing Tao; in the absence of real ale I made that my tipple for the evening, and good stuff it was. Ken insisted on addressing my mother as la presidenta all evening (the Mayor is automatically Gosporteers President; when, months ago, he'd referred to her as el presidente, I'd told him what the feminine form was.) The food, home-cooked on the premises, was quite nice, especially the Christmas pudding. Because Dot the nonagenarian fundraiser was ill and didn't come, there was a spare portion of pudding that went back to the kitchen - no-one thought to offer it around :( We had a cracker each too, and all put our paper crowns on, except Roy who said his head was too big. I got a little Connect 4 game in mine; two of them had the same joke in, which reminded me of the box we had one time when I was little, where 7 of the 12 crackers had the same joke. One person quipped that we must have bought them from a certain local businessman, regarded by some as a bit of a spiv.
Ken, the secretary, introduced Glenn Ford, a Norman Wisdom tribute act. He came in, did a little turn, then hosted the raffle draw in character while my mother drew the tickets. Then everyone made idle chat for half an hour or so, the odd one of us having one last drink, before we all filed out. To my surprise Sid, the treasurer, followed us to the Mayoral car; it turned out me ma had agreed we'd give him a lift home. John put Radio Solent on at my request, but they didn't mention the Hawks score on the 10 o'clock news :(
Back home, saw Malandra evicted from I'm A Celeb, watched her interview then looked up the score on teletext - BBC didn't have it, but ITV did - we'd won 3-0 :) That gives us a home match with Gravesend in the 1st Round Proper, on December 16. I immediately told my mother she'd have to take someone else to the New Forest Christmas Charity Concert that day.
Luck was on my side for once, though. I started by heaving the bed onto its side. I'd thought the key might have gone just under the bed on the near side. It hadn't, but when I disconsolately lowered the bed back onto the floor, it landed a few inches forward. As I went to push it back to the wall, I saw the key shining up at me from the gap between the bed and the wall. Hallelujah!
I immediately clipped the key onto the key ring with my house keys.
Spent the rest of the morning slobbing around watching DVDs, then at noon took the bus down to the Town Hall to check out the poetry box. Hooray, there'd been five poems submitted, most of them very good. I pinned them all up on the board, together with the last two winter-themed ones from the schoolkids and the David Essex-influenced one I wrote last Christmas about Miss K1. Then rushed home to get changed ready for the day's first mayoral function.
We went to the Explosion museum to attend the launch of a book about naval armament. Had a cup of coffee in a little room with the author (a shy bloke who seemed a bit nervous around us), his wife (by contrast, she was very chatty), the photographer and several of the Explosion staff, then sat in a bigger room listening to them all speak for a little while, then back next door for another cup of coffee. On the way out my mother wanted to stop by the Explosion office and talk to the people there; before we were gone, I'd blagged us an official invitation to their Christmas carol service after seeing an advertising poster on a desk.
And so this evening, while Havant & Waterlooville were taking on Team Bath, I was sat in a little café in the town centre having Christmas dinner with the Gosporteers. They were a pleasant enough bunch, even if they were all about 30 years older than me; I did manage to join the odd conversation, notably with Rosemary the former mayoress, whom I knew from Royan, as she talked quite a bit about travel and Eastern Europe, subjects I know enough about to make chit-chat. Next but one to me was Roy, a former long-serving sailor who used a lot of naval slang terms, and was happy to explain the odd one, and told a few interesting tales of his life at sea.
At the start of the drink our waitress asked us all what we'd like to drink (me ma's and my food and drinks were all paid for by the Gosporteers). I heard her telling Roy they did a Chinese lager, Tsing Tao; in the absence of real ale I made that my tipple for the evening, and good stuff it was. Ken insisted on addressing my mother as la presidenta all evening (the Mayor is automatically Gosporteers President; when, months ago, he'd referred to her as el presidente, I'd told him what the feminine form was.) The food, home-cooked on the premises, was quite nice, especially the Christmas pudding. Because Dot the nonagenarian fundraiser was ill and didn't come, there was a spare portion of pudding that went back to the kitchen - no-one thought to offer it around :( We had a cracker each too, and all put our paper crowns on, except Roy who said his head was too big. I got a little Connect 4 game in mine; two of them had the same joke in, which reminded me of the box we had one time when I was little, where 7 of the 12 crackers had the same joke. One person quipped that we must have bought them from a certain local businessman, regarded by some as a bit of a spiv.
Ken, the secretary, introduced Glenn Ford, a Norman Wisdom tribute act. He came in, did a little turn, then hosted the raffle draw in character while my mother drew the tickets. Then everyone made idle chat for half an hour or so, the odd one of us having one last drink, before we all filed out. To my surprise Sid, the treasurer, followed us to the Mayoral car; it turned out me ma had agreed we'd give him a lift home. John put Radio Solent on at my request, but they didn't mention the Hawks score on the 10 o'clock news :(
Back home, saw Malandra evicted from I'm A Celeb, watched her interview then looked up the score on teletext - BBC didn't have it, but ITV did - we'd won 3-0 :) That gives us a home match with Gravesend in the 1st Round Proper, on December 16. I immediately told my mother she'd have to take someone else to the New Forest Christmas Charity Concert that day.
