Saturday, 28 January 2017

My Alma Mater; Rickmansworth Young Ladies College.



My Alma Mater; Rickmansworth Young Ladies College.

I was telling Tamsin about my earliest memories. I recalled playing on a big rocking horse and our Ginger cat that used to lie on the end of my bed. I asked Tamsin what were her earliest childhood memories.

Trouble is Tamsin cannot help herself she always has to go one better. She said it was escaping involuntarily from her mother’s uterus to find Auntie Elsie coochie-cooing and tickling her under her chin as her father endeavoured to take a photo of her on his mobile phone just as they were about to cut her umbilical cord.  

She said it all got a bit hazy after that. I know Tamsin is inclined to exaggerate but paraphrasing one of father’s sayings “stuff me this surely has to take the cake”.

When I was about ten I remember asking mother where babies come from, she said they were found under Gooseberry bushes. I accepted her answer without question despite bizarre speculation by the other girls. Years later on Graduation day or was it School Camp when I was seventeen I found to my horror she had been lying to me for years. My mother is now trying to convince me that as a baby I was left at her front door and was adopted. Perhaps she is after carer’s money, who knows.


Uncle Crass and Auntie Jekyll are coming over at the week-end. Incidentally the good news is that Uncle Crass has had the tracking device removed from his ankle and Auntie Jekyll has at last been finally admitted to a home for the mentally confused and befuddled. Mother wants me to help with the catering. I have bought a Woman’s Weakly cook-book which has a lot of good stuff in it.


I am thinking of making ‘Hundreds and Thousands’ sandwiches for Uncle Crass, Naturally with the crusts cut off and for Auntie Jekyll perhaps savoury sausages with a Condensed milk dip and for afters bread soaked in treacle with a tomato sauce topping. I have also been looking out for drinks that glow in the dark.


LATE MESSAGE! My mother has asked me to stay out of the kitchen.


My parents sent me to a very expensive exclusive girl’s boarding school Rickmansworth Ladies College for genteel young ladies, one terms school term fees would have armed a third world country for years or fed a child from Biafra for hundreds of years, probably more and possibly got a space program off the ground for them.


Some sad news, some wretched person ‘Sniped’ me on EBay for the spotters guide to UK Electricity Pylons and won it for 80 Pee. I honestly don't understand how these people can possibly live with themselves.


A chance remark by an internet acquaintance of mine reminded me of an incident at school.

I was approached by Miss Frenzi the school sports teacher and asked if I would like to join the senior netball team.

She asked “what position on the court would you like to be trialled?


I replied “well, preferably in goal miss”


She inquired "do you know much about netball Bridgette?"


I replied "Well frankly not a lot"


She never got back to me!


I have just heard on the news, that if Iran does not cease its nuclear ambitions not only will the UN step up its sanctions, but Iran will be forced to host the next FIFA world cup. Finally the UN is getting serious.


We buried Charmaine one of our chickens the other day, she had been egg bound.


Tamsin, Phaedra, Patience, Rhonda and I stood in a circle and farewelled her with two choruses of “She who would true valiant be” or something like that. Her spirit moved on and she was consigned to the cold, cold ground. I advanced the hypothesis that it is possible that the sudden demise of Charmaine must have caught the attention of the other chickens and would have been the focus of much discussion. We as humans think we are the centre of the universe; we are so puffed up with our own importance we fail to see the broader picture.

Mother dear, we are wretched victims of nihilism. Chickens too suffer anxieties from a sense of insecurity when something like this happens. Remember we are all fellow travellers on this inconsequential dying blue/green stellar piece of flotsam floating aimlessly without any apparent purpose against a star-studded Ebon cyclorama.


Remember Life doesn't stop when Dementia starts!


No, it’s not the ramblings of a Twitter amateur Philosopher; I saw it on the wall in the doctor’s waiting room along with “Parents be ever vigilant for head lice" Funny that, I thought only children got head lice.


It has happened again another one of our chickens died. I found Pamela on her back under a tree. She was a homing chicken. She will be sorely missed. As you can imagine the other chickens are distraught and again are trying to come to terms with the tragic loss of a sister chicken.


Tamsin
 my third best friend asked my friend Graham what she should buy her mother for her 20th wedding anniversary. Seeing she had Irish heritage he suggested buying a celebratory pack of 20 DVD'S totalling 1000 hours of Irish dancing.

Roger, my sort of first boy-friend bought me a year subscription for my birthday to the Dolly magazine little realizing the profound, haunting morbid dread I used to experience whenever I was about to open the sealed section at the back of the Dolly Magazine, it probably explains why even today I am terrified of Badgers. Can you understand that?


It was the second time Roger got me home after 10.PM  father said the next time this happens he will be ostracised. I asked Roger if that meant he will not be able to have children.

By the way I was hoping the new Pope would have been an African woman.


I suppose it all started when my mother suggested I should cultivate some "deep meaningful relationships" So I joined Facebook. Father accused me of being a tart trying to pick up men of the opposite 
species. I overheard mother's Bridge partner Mrs Tinkle ask if I was adopted, Mother shook her head and replied "I don't know where she came from" with heavy emphasis on the 'where'

Follow Oprah Winfrey isn’t she a twin? Why would I want to follow Oprah Winfrey I have never liked tennis.