Continue the story.....

[itsmeagain]

but admire her full on fullness, her  perspicacity in telling it as it is; however, it was Petunia now determined to get my...

[poppy]

undivided attention. I hoped she wasn't going to become a problem. I could do without Rosie doing her green-eyed monster impersonation all over again.

But at this point, I needn't have worried. Rosie and new recruit Felicia were busy putting ...

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the finishing touches to a vegan Kate n Sidney pie, I asked for a mega dose of fried whole spuds ,meantime I asked for a rendition of the best Elvis Costello hit, 

Edited April 12 by itsmeagain

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Oliver's Army. They said they didn't know that one and  started singing ABBA's Dancing Queen instead.

I rolled my eyes in disgust and went off to ...

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peruse a volume of Dickens.'Grub is up', chimed Felicia, ' and as a particular treat, we welcome Jonas K Numpty, head of ecosystem endeavour at Colne Polytechnic, here to talk on the interrelationship between amounts of potato curry

eaten, and long life longevity..over to you Professor....'

'Well hellew all', smiled a skinny yet erudite, man, long grey pony tail, fiercely blue suit , winklepickers on feet,all pomp and circumstance, decidedly...

..

 

Edited April 14 by itsmeagain

[poppy]

pretentious looking. Since Felicia had joined us, she'd been organising these 'intellectual lectures,' as she called them. I called them something quite different but since they attracted a large number of paying patrons, I kept my thoughts to myself.

He waded straight into some spurious pseudo-science theory that the audience appeared to be lapping up. 

I snuck away and headed for ...

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the samosas. A choice of green 🌶 peri peri, spicy samosas, piri piri spuds with habanero sauce, carrot soufflé,  and chilled peach with cream.

A man asked, 'wares ve me@t, brav?'

'Meet for what?', said Bunty, astonished at this request about meetings, when this meeting so evidently exists, as if it ain't sufficient for these weirdo vegans. 'Meat lav, meat', said

Edited April 15 by itsmeagain

[poppy]

Gunner Gibbs.

'I'm neither your bruv or your luv, but I share your disappointment with the absence of any animal protein in the fare provided. Just look at the motley assemblage here tonight! Skinny, washed-out looking lot. Probably go round hugging trees and talking to their pot plants. There's a definite whiff of pot plants about them,' Bunty sniffed.

I had to laugh. 'How did you come to be here tonight, Bunty? I thought you always went to ...

 

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biker dos, hen parties for Yorkshire lesbians, and macrame knitting classes for the over 40s', said Trev Lost, 25, a bricklayer, once of Birmingham.

'Now now watch it, sweet cheeks', said Bunty, 'or I will set his wife Rosie on yer..you'll rue the day', she said,sausage roll crumbs falling freely down her purple khaki get up, ' another thing..these hippy types do not know their literature..despite their complaints to the contrary, they only read Socialist Challenge, Spartacist, and the Guardian...'

'Socialist Challenge?', I scoffed, ' I bet you must be an oldie if you're reading that lost relic of Thatcherite Britain.'

'Oh being personal,  are we?', said Bunty, eating a bacon pie with chive mustard and a spicy hollandaise,' you'll not manage to deflect me from my aim..to rid academic bookstalls of neo Communist liberals in shorts, Che Guevara hairpieces, and flavoured lemonade..now I have work to do', and with.....

Edited April 15 by itsmeagain

[poppy]

that, she tossed her cape in a manner that would have made Puss in Boots proud.

'Do you want a hand? I'd be glad to escape all these earnest wannabe highbrows,' I said. Anything to get out of cleaning up after they'd stuffed their self-opinionated faces.

'Come along then, come along. You can help me with ...

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the separation of Tolkien from Tidsdale, Teasdale etc .... get me?

The books bucket is a bucket full of useless books . Go through it, take your pick, remember my charity in your will, and help yersen to tea, coffee, and sugar. I will be feeding and walking 2 cats, Ruffles and Duffles, both angelic tabbies, you will.....

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find the Cosy Book Nook's key under the back door mat.

Can you put half a dozen potatoes in the microwave too? I've only had a few nibbles tonight. I'm starving!'

Bunty's prodigious appetite was impressive.

I did as she asked, made a large mug of tea, grabbed a handful of shortbread biscuits and and started going through the book bucket discards. To my surprise ...

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there were a few gems , like Great Expectations, Far from the Madding Crowd, and 1914, but I kept on delving and out I pulled a volume called, 'Running a cafe, my own unique way', by Eugenia Pullupapew, with many fascinating tips on how to empty potato peel into a garden , composting of tea bags, and the best brownies this side of the Mason Dixon line. 

But there was  a surprising amount of Margaret Thatcher; so nauseating that my headlong rush to the bog was  stopped by a sudden  bout of even greater nausea. You see, Maggie had never been a person I read about, but I decided to take 6 tomes of her memoirs, 3 for daddy, 3 for our Pastor.. but I was going to get Felicia Goodbye to charm both, and to sell both a wad of  drivel for 50 quid per tome; it ought to be a simple matter, since Felicia Goodbye has delightful charms, right up the Major's street; what he doesn't know, of course, is she is a ju jitsu master and so...

Edited April 19 by itsmeagain

[poppy]

she should be safe from any unwanted overtures.

When Bunty returned huffing and puffing from taking the cats for their constitutionals, and we got stuck into a couple of baked spuds each with lashings of butter and chopped chives (Bunty managed three), I enquired why she was discarding the likes of Dickens and Hardy. There were also some D.H.Lawrence and Hemingway in the rubbish bucket.

'It's simple really,' she replied, ...

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I don't know why the Dickens  Charlie is so popular,  I never liked Great Expectations,  as,  simply put, it is a book of few expectations  for me; the style, monotonous, the tempo, dull, the characters, dry and all similar in role and personalty; moving on , I do not feel Tommo is so very Hardy after all, again, a dull resonance emanates, rather vociferously,  from environs where his books predominate; only 6 months ago I went to see Maud and she sat for 46 minutes, praising Far from the Madding Crowd...I was maddened by that tale, so 

Edited April 20 by itsmeagain

[poppy]

they get the old heave-ho.'

'Do you mind if I take them then? I asked. 'It seems a waste to throw them away.'

'What do you want them for?' she asked suspiciously, 'you're not going to try and sell them are you?'

'Well, we could ...

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see if old Crudger the Crutch down at the stables wants some', said I,hoping she didn't know I was spinning a yarn, 'and also, the Pilsbury Dough nursing home at Bats Nook really  need reading material..it helps with Alzheimers '.

'Are you pulling the wool.....

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over my knees? I didn't come down in the last share market crash, you know! But if you genuinely think they'd be interested, we'll load up my shopping trundler now and take a visit.'

Damn, I thought, foiled again!

'It was just an idea' I stalled,  'I'll give them a ring sometime.'

'We may as well grab the bull by the tail and strike while the iron's on. Come on then, lickety-chop!'

'But Bunty, it's ...

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raining..'

'Get your coat,off we go to Pilsbury Dough...

[poppy]

and we'll spread a little joy amongst the senior citizens.'

'Can you share your umbrella,' I begged, 'this coat isn't rainproof.'

'Oh toughen up! A little bit of rain never hurt anyone,' she stated cheerfully, as rain streamed off of her brolly and she splashed through calf deep puddles in her galoshes. (trans. from Antipodean gumboots)

Once there, I hoped I'd be able to slip away and make a few side deals, but she stuck to me like a viral chest cold. Something I strongly suspected I'd be suffering from after tonight's little escapade.

Henry B. Clutterbuck, a sprightly octogenarian...

 

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,said his best ever read had been copies of Doris Lessing, The Notebook, on South Africa, the weird vibes of apartheid 

[poppy]

communism and madness.'

'You must go to one of Felicia's's soirées!' said Bunty, 'She has speakers on a wide range of weird and wonderful subjects. Right up your street.'

'I'm afraid I'm wheelchair bound these days. Bloomin' pins let me down, don't you know,' said Henry.

'Don't you worry about a thing, old mate! Johnny here will come and push you.' And she gave me a hearty slap on the back.

I gave her a look that should have ...

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frazzled her lank curls, but failed. 'Have you read much Thomas Hardy?', asked Henry , of Bunty, ' you see, I once shared a rickshaw in India with his best cousin Freda, and her uncle on the grandma's side. It was a spiffing journey, driven through a real Madding Crowd, not...

[poppy]

that I'm a devotee of Hardy. Depressing, pessimistic type of cove, but Freda was a topping filly, I could tell you some stories!'

'Do tell!' I encouraged.

'Johnny! It's time we were hitting the road. Say goodbye. We'll leave the books for residents to help themselves to. Toodlepip, Henry.'

I donned my soaked coat again, and sploshed off dejectedly through the rain. I started to sneeze and shiver but Bunty was disgustedly cheerful, even going as far as ...

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picking up  a wet towel, wringing it out, and wiping my