Monthly Archives: July 2015

Matilda’s Morning Off

A well-to-do lady has the morning to relax by herself, but can’t quite get things started…

Ah, frabjous day, calloo callay! The housework’s all done, the sun’s shining, Humphrey’s out playing golf – and why shouldn’t he in this incomparable weather? – It’s just me, a pot of tea, a cream bun and a book for the whole morning.

Oh, but of course, there’s you, Primrose! Don’t worry, my angel, Mummy’s just got to put the tea tray down, select a book and then you can sit on her lap for a while. How about that, eh? Yes, I thought you’d like that!

There we go, the tray’s in place. I bless the day Humphrey had this conservatory built. Absolutely top hole for relaxing in on a summer’s day. Now I just need to select a book.

But what to read?

Let’s look at the shelves. Dickens, perhaps? I’ve never tired him. No, I want something lighter, something to suit the summery mood. You can wait for a long, grotty day, Charlie Dear.

I say, how about The Iliad? I always enjoyed Homer’s work. Idiosyncratic, yes, but exciting and a bit lighter than Dickens. I’d like to think Humphrey would have launched 1000 ships to take me back! Hmmm…

Oh, my Bronte books! Perhaps I’ll indulge myself in Wuthering Heights once more. That’s my favourite. No, what am I saying? I want light-hearted reading. And let’s not forget Heathcliff was a complete bounder!

There’s my Mills and Boon collection of course… And James Herriott – he always makes me smile. Perhaps I’ll read you a bit, Primrose, my sugar plum? I bet you’d like to hear about all those other doggies getting better!

Maybe I should try something new. I know; I’ll look in Alfred’s room. He won’t be miffed about me borrowing his books while he’s at university.

Ugh! Just look at all this rot! Nothing but Stephen King, Shaun Hutson and the like! Does he actually enjoy all this guts and gore rubbish? Oh, the W.I. would be in fits if they knew! Let’s try Humphrey’s books in the master bedroom…

Hmmmm, I never did quite see why Humphrey liked Biggles so much. Why don’t I read a bit and find out? Yes, I’ll do that. Oh, he’s left his Panama hat out. I’ll just put it away in the cupboard.

Oh my golly! What are my old Bunty annuals doing there? Of course! Humphrey must have left them here when he was clearing out the attic. He’s so absent minded sometimes…

Wait! That’s it! It’s perfect! I’ll read through these annuals as I have my tea! Why shouldn’t I recapture the zeitgeist on my morning off?

At last, I’m ready to begin. Come on, Primrose! Come on, Mummy’s got a biccie for you! There you go. Yes, I know you’re gorgeous, but Mummy’s going to sit and read for a bit, so be a good girl and curl up. There you go.

Now, to sit back, relax and enjoy…

Oh phooey! The tea’s gone cold!

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Hell No! Why Does She Go? (A poem to be sung)

Hell No!  Why does she go?  I treated her to dinner tonight!

Hell No!  Why does she go?  I thought I was doin’ everything just right.

She’s only got close to me this evening, then just like that she’s out of sight.

Say hey!  Why won’t she stay?  If it feels good she should take the chance.

Say hey!  Why won’t she stay?  The music’s playin’ but she won’t dance.

Though there may not be no wedding bells, we may’s well try for a romance.

G’wan talk, or else she’ll walk!  Why can’t I just cross the floor an’ speak?

G’wan talk, or else she’ll walk!  ‘Round friends I’m strong, but ’round girls I’m weak.

It just ain’t like the Bible tells it; this world ain’t gonna pass to the meek.

Oh man, she went an’ ran!  An’ here’s me thinking there was chemistry!

Oh man, she want an’ ran!  Seems I can’t compete with her history.

She says she couldn’t stand her last fellah, then they make up an’ she cans me!

Ring, ring!  Pick up the thing!  She gave me her number yesterday.

Ring, ring!  Pick up the thing!  It ain’t like she was off on holiday.

Time an’ time again I call her, but “leave a message” is all I hear her say.

Feels right?  Then spend the night!  She’ll share my time, but not my bed.

Feels right?  Then spend the night!  We ain’t so young, but we ain’t dead!

She’s oh so fly and oh so foxy; she keep sayin’ no, I’ll lose my head.

So long, but what went wrong?  Her honey drippin’ became an angry shout.

So long, but what went wrong?  If we’ve got trouble, we should work it out.

She says I weren’t treatin’ her special, but I loved her and there weren’t no doubt.

Moan, moan, why’m I alone?  How long’s this misery gon’ go on?

Moan, moan, why’m I alone?  There’s so many one must be The One.

Come on all you lonely women out there; come ’round and claim me ‘fore I’m gone!