A friend of ours who lives down the street told us that their daughter came from school the other day by bus and she said the neighbours had a lion as a pet.
Her parents told her that she know full well it is not a lion and it is wrong to tell lies. It is a sin. They told her to go to her room and pray to God and ask Him to forgive her.
Ten minutes later she came down. They asked her whether she prayed to God. She said, "Yes I did and He said He often mistakes that dog for a lion Himself!"
We have had a spate of doormat swapping. No one knows how it started. Most houses have a doormat
or rug by their front doors for visitors to wipe their feet on before
entering the house. Some have personalised doormats with the words
"Smith Residence" or such like. Others have plain rubber doormats, or
multi-coloured ones or whatever. Every one, or almost every one, has a
doormat by their front door.
In the last few days these doormats have swapped places. We get up in the
morning and find that instead of our doormat we have the one from a few
houses up the road, and they have another doormat which does not belong
to them either; and every house has a doormat which belongs to their
neighbours from further up the road, rather than the one living just
next door.
The first morning this happened it was pandemonium out there. Everyone
was out in the street, in various stages of undress,
doormat in hand trying to find who has their doormat and giving away the
doormat left on their doorstep.
It baffled me why people should get out in the street with their night
clothes on, just to get back their own doormat. You'd be surprised what
some people wear in bed these days. It was quite a revelation I tell
you.
And I wondered why Mr Harrison from Number 14 came out of house Number 17 in his pyjamas with the young lady from Number 17 following him
in her nightdress.
Yesterday it all happened again. Someone at night swapped all
the doormats once more. And it happened this morning too.
Now we keep our doormat indoors. Whenever people visit we let them right
in and ask them to wipe their feet as they leave so as not to dirty the
outdoors.
Our neighbour on the left of us is an old man who lives alone. I saw him with a dog
lately. He must have named him "Help" because all day yesterday he kept
shouting from his back garden, "Help ... Help ... Help ..." He eventually must have found his dog
because he stopped calling it.
A few houses up the road a new couple have moved in about a month or so
ago. They are elderly too. I have not seen the old man but his wife is
frequently seen coming up the hill from town carrying a large shopping
bag. Her head stooped down by the many years on her shoulders, she walks
slowly past our house and on to hers a few yards further on. I noticed
once that she was followed by a cat.
A few days later I saw her again walking towards her home with her
shopping bag. This time she was followed by two cats, neither of which
was the cat I saw her with before.
Yesterday I saw her again. This time she was followed by at least six
cats. They were all
following her and miawooing like cats do.
I stopped her to have a word. I noticed that she
smelled of fish. So I ventured to ask whether she kept cats as pets. She
looked around her and said, "Oh no ... they follow me everyday from the
fishmonger all the way home!"
"You like fish?" I asked rather stupidly.
"No ... I hate fish, and the smell of fish," she replied, "this is for Hector!"
"Your husband?" I asked.
"No ..." she said, "the man who lives with me is not my husband. We are
not married. He is my lover and we live in sin, so to speak!"
I was embarrassed and mumbled something incoherent which even I could not understand.
"Anyway, his name is not Hector. It is Ivor ... Ivor Heavybottom!"
"Oh ..." I said wishing to end this conversation.
"Hector is our penguin. We keep him in the bath. He is staying with us for a while," she informed me.
"Is he on holiday?" I asked stupidly.
"Oh no ..." she said, "he is from the zoo. His mother rejected him
and the zoo keepers tried to get him adopted; but apparently penguins do
not like to adopt other birds' chicks. So the people at the zoo tried a
walrus. But the walrus rejected him too. So they asked us to look after
him until they find another animal who might adopt him until he grows
up. A crocodile perhaps!"
"I see ..." I said unconvincingly.
She continued, "The people at the zoo are
trying to find out whether fish are depressed. You can't tell
if a fish is depressed because they don't smile. It is easy
with a dog, when he is happy he wags his tail. But with a fish it's
different. He wags his tail to keep afloat in the water. The
animal psychiatrist says one way of finding out if fish are
depressed is to check their mortality rate. But when you have a tankful
of dead fish it is too late to cheer them up if they're dead."
A few days later I learnt from another neighbour that this old lady's
first and only husband wanted to be a lion whisperer. He achieved his
ambition just before he died trying to tame a deaf lion.
Now about rumours. There's a rumour amongst some of our church folks that we are near the end of times. All the signs are there, they say. Wars, famine, poverty, epidemics, trouble and strife and so on. Also, the light bulb on the stand next to my computer has just gone out - totally dead. Now there's a sign, some would say.
Well, that might be true or it might be wrong. My take on this is that every day is a day nearer to the end of times. Whether it happens tomorrow or next week or in a thousand years from now, it is still a day nearer.
Remember back in 2012 people were convinced that it would be the end of the world? Well, I was the only one to know different. I was sure it would not happen. You see, 2012 was the year of the London Olympics and as a country we had spent a fortune preparing for it. There was no way the Government would have allowed the end of the world to happen before getting back the benefits of all that money spent.
Now another rumour around here is about our neighbour down the road; a lady called Edna. Apparently, according to another neighbour, Edna wears wigs. Different coloured ones, Blonde, jet black, light brown and even a light tint of violet or blue. I often wondered why her hair was different colours, and I thought she dyed her hair. But I'm told it's different wigs. Apparently she washes them in the washing machine and hangs them out to dry in the back garden. As with all gossip; I'll never see Edna in the same light again.
And yet another rumour in our neighbourhood is about cats. Or one cat in particular. Apparently there's a big cat around. I'm not sure how big. Some folk says he's as big as a small dog, or a medium sized dog, or a big dog, or an elephant even ... depending on which neighbour you listen to. It is said he roams the streets at night and has been seen by some people; or to be precise, they saw his shadow as he passes by the street's lamp posts casting a menacing figure against the walls of the houses.
Worse still, I have been told by a friend, that a man living three streets down from here, has been told by his cousin, that his colleague down at the factory in town, has it on good authority that this large cat steals bicycles.
Can you imagine that? A big cat who steals bicycles! Whatever next? Crime of epidemic proportions. What if this cat gets a liking for motorcycles, or cars?
I think all these rumours are getting out of hand. I'll stop listening to them. I'll sit in front of the TV and watch the news instead. At least this is the honest, well researched, and authentically verified truth.
Lots of small things have been happening here lately which, put together, amount to lots of small things. They're worth mentioning I suppose, seeing I have nothing else to write about.
My friend, who will remain nameless to protect his identity, was arrested by the police last week. Alan Stephen, (he spells his surname with a PH because he's a bit acidic), was speeding down the motorway. Or was it up the motorway? What's the difference?
Anyway, he was speeding at the speed of dark, which is a bit slower than the speed of light, but still too fast for the motorway. The police chased him up. Siren blaring. Blue lights flashing. But he still drove faster than before.
Eventually he stopped and the policeman asked him, "Did you not see the lights flashing and hear the siren?"
"That I did!" said Acidic Alan.
"Why did you not stop?" asked the policeman.
"Well you see," said my friend, "I have ... a police record."
"Really?" the policeman said.
"Yes ... message in a bottle ... by Sting!" Stephen said, "I've never understood why that singer has a name like a wasp's backside!"
The policeman was not amused. So Stephen thought he'd better be serious. He explained, "you see, officer ... I did see the flashing lights and hear the siren. Fifteen years ago my wife left me and ran off with a policeman. When I saw you chasing me I thought you were returning her!"
"I want your name!" said the policeman.
"Why do you want to be called Alan Stephen?" asked my friend.
And that's when he got arrested. To be honest, he's always been a tearaway. He came from a broken family and his parents never really loved him. He used to come home from school and find that they had moved ... to another country. He never knew what it felt like to be wanted until he saw his photo on a police notice board.
Then somehow as he grew up he settled down a bit. But he was always very lazy. No job lasted very long. He was so lazy that he married someone already pregnant.
When he divorced her, fifteen years go, they had an unusual financial settlement regarding the house. She kept the inside and he kept the outside. That's when I met him. At the homeless shelter. I was volunteering at the time.
If you have time, you can read the story about my volunteering work HERE. Really worth it!
Anyway, the police let him off with a caution and penalty points on his driving licence.
For a start, the traffic lights at the end of the road got faulty and were stuck on red all the time. You should have seen the queue, (line), of cars all standing there waiting for the lights to change to green.
The number of cars stretched about half-a-mile or so. There was a lot of hooting of horns, each one thinking the car in front was not moving. A lot of people swearing out of their car windows at each other. Some threatening to write letters of complaint to the authorities. But no one dared cross the intersection and drive on through red; even though there were no cars coming the other way at the intersection because that road was closed due to road works.
Eventually, all the cars did a U turn and drove back the way they came rather than cross the intersection whilst the lights were on red; and there were no other cars coming from left or right at the intersection.
Oh ... and another thing happened over here. A local Bank has installed an ATM ... you know, one of those machines where you can withdraw cash ... they installed an ATM up a tree. They said if it proves successful they will do the same in other branches.
I went to visit Mrs McPearson the other day. She is about 80 years old and lives with her 18 years old grand-daughter whose parents, (Mrs McPearson's son and wife), are on business abroad for six months.
I was discussing her health and she showed the list of medications she takes. To my surprise, I discovered that she has been prescribed birth control pills. I surreptitiously asked her about them. She said they help her sleep.
I explained that there is nothing in birth control pills to help her get to sleep.
She said she knows that; but every morning she grinds one up and puts it in her grand-daughter's orange juice; and that helps Mrs McPearson sleep well at night.
Whilst clearing up some old files I found my old school books and that set me thinking. I read the comments my teacher wrote in red in my book. So what if I did not know what "Armageddon" means? It's not the end of the world is it?
I also found another book about Happy Marriages. Did you know that if it weren't for marriage men would go through life thinking they had no faults at all.
Marriages can make happy families. I like my family. If it was not for my family I would be having arguments with perfect strangers.
I had a happy family childhood. When I was young my parents were very strict. Until I was 8 I always thought my name was "Shut-up". I was told that my mom did not like me when I was a baby. She used to get morning sickness well after I was born. At least six months after I was born. Then as a teenager my parents used to make me walk the plank. They could not afford a dog. Dad used to take me out fishing and swimming in his boat at sea. He lowered me in the water and taught me to swim. I always got to shore before the sharks.
My parents told me that my uncle used to steal from his job as a road worker. I did not believe it; but when I visited his home all the signs were there.
This uncle cured me from my fear of monsters under the bed. He cut the legs off the bed. After that, I was afraid of squashed monsters under the bed.
He had many ups and downs in life. He worked as an elevator attendant at a local hotel. He once had an argument with his boss and stormed out of the hotel and slammed the revolving door behind him. He was soon back in and got his job back.
He told me he read a book entitled "The 10 films you should see before you die!" He said he only saw nine of them because he did not want to tempt fate.
I was thrown out of a posh restaurant in town for taking a bottle of tomato ketchup with me. The last time I went there they did not have ketchup for me to put on my lobster thermidor. So this time I took my own bottle to put on my oysters starter and the waiter got very angry with me. They asked me to leave before I had even ordered a hamburger and French fries.
Oh by the way ... I meant to tell you ... nearly forgot ... be careful if you receive an e-mail titled "Ding Dong". It's those religious people working from home.
In church on Sunday the sermon was about you come from dust and will return to dust. That's a good reason not to vacuum clean in case you're picking up someone.
Well, that's generally it from over here. How is it over there where you are?
