More vandalism in Sprodlington

The Sprodlington Post this morning tells a woeful tale of vandalism along the local beck. Their chief reporter, Dan Woolaton observes that panels of fencing have been flattened and along certain parts of the path – completely removed.

Followers of this blog will realise that this is not the first time our lovely market town has fallen foul to the antics of these hooded yobos.

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Bloody hooligans

 

 

I employed PC Tucknott at Templeton’s Hardware mainly because he was cheap, but partly because  his part-time inclusion as a Special Constable (prior to the Scout in a headlock incident) would help with security. But the lad is a bloody idiot.

On Friday of last week, Tucknott biked to work and chained his bike to a lamp-post outside “Bitz and Pizzas” – he lost his key.  I offered to sell PCT cutting equipment, suitably docking the amounts from his next six month’s salary, but he said it would be fine.

Yes, in less than two weeks his bike resembles something that would normally be found in Dean and Kylie Smith’s front garden alongside the washing machine, broken garden chair, fag butts and dog shit.

The day of the big knickers.

 

This morning I am still in recovery from the thrills and spills of last night.

The evening started in the best way possible: my daughter Tracey and her boyfriend Mitch were out for the evening which left Wendy and I alone.  I recommended a little jaunt to “Bitz and Pizzas” our local Italian, but Wendy suggested we went to The Cross Keys instead for a quiet drink.

The pub was remarkably quiet and Wendy took a seat in the corner of the public bar and I ordered a Spritzer and a pint of Feltcher (a new local brew)  together with  two bags of Pork Scratchings.  I sat down and  looked and Wendy – she looked as lovely as she ever had – her new highlights reflecting the flickering lights from the “Who wants to be a Millionaire” machine.

We talked and we talked. Then we talked and we talked.  We talked about the good times and we talked about the difficult times.  We spoke about the past and we chatted about the future.  My eyes moistened as Wendy said she was happy living with me and that moving back was the best thing she had done. It was time for us to go home.

I’m not going to go into detail about what happened for the rest of the night, but let’s just say I awoke with the soft feeling of duck down feathers under my head rather than a cushion.  I woke with a smile.  The smile seemed etched on my face as I climbed out of bed, slightly aching, but with a warm feeling inside.

I glanced at Wendy sleeping peacefully, content with her world and then I glanced at the floor.  I saw what I thought was a small parachute; a tent perhaps, big enough for a small family ?  It was the “big knickers” – I had always wondered when the big knickers would move into Chez Templeton and they had arrived quietly and gently and without a huge statement. “They could stay”  I thought.

 

Making a real splash !

It would be remiss of me not to mention Beryl Tanner, Christine Pulton and Sue Carter who are attempting 10 continuous lengths at the Gladys Minton Memorial baths today.

Many of you know about the run-in I have had with the ladies next door in the RSPB shop, which culminated in a stand-off when I found myself very close to expanding  and closing them down. You will recall that I suffered a leaflet campaign. I decided to keep my options open and have since considered opening an ice cream parlour or expanding Templeton’s Hardware  into the nearby town of Market Dryston.

There are two reasons why Beryl chose to  raise money in a Swimathon.  Firstly, her husband Clive died earlier in the year after suffering a stroke.  I  was bitterly affected and saddened as he had been an excellent customer over the years.  The second reason, according to The Sprodlington Post is that the Greenish Warbler (which I imagine is a greenish warbing type bird) is proving harder to find in East Yorkshire than ever before. Beryl, Christine and Sue have therefore decided to split their  sponsorship money equally between the local stroke association and the purchase of some hairless caterpillars which are highly sought after by the Geenish Warbler.

So, Good Luck Ladies !

 

Desperate Housewives

 

Yesterday, Doreen was helpfully taking money from Jenny Salmon in return for a few plastic clothes pegs.  They were having a right whinge-on.

“You know the problem with this weather is you can never really dry the clothes on the line, Doreen. It’s the damp in the air.”

“I know,” replied Doreen. “Yesterday I hung all the kid’s uniforms out and hoped they’d dry before I got back from work.”

“I’m getting a tumbly at the weekend.” said Jenny smiling. “I’ve been after one for years and it will dry all my clothes.”

“Excuse me !” I interrupted. “This is a sodding hardware store, not a coffee shop.”

Living in a Virtual World – My friends part 1.

In reality,  I own my Hardware store in the East Yorkshire market town of Sprodlington and make an honest living (with a bit of poetic license now and again).

A couple of years ago, PC Tucknott, my part-time worker at Templeton’s Hardware told me about Facebook, a place where you can meet interesting new friends. Well I certainly have collected a variety of characters with quirks and intricacies to add interest to my everyday and mundane life.

Joanna – a collector of greyhound Christmas greeting cards. I’m still not sure whether they are cards for lovers of greyhounds, or cards you send to greyhounds.

Jo – a pure expert of wonky angled pictures of sunsets taken on beaches: smiling at life with an eye out for a gathering and glass of something special.

Alison – a tickling balance of someone who can find time to take wonderful pictures of her children, but then just keeps  enough time back to find someone to leave them with.

Zoe – is Zoe ! A pretty lady with an anger for neighbours, parking tickets and a love of Dallas and a footballer called Clarke Carlisle.

Judi – just a friend for everyone. The sort of person who adds a smile to your day, and at the same time might not realise she has been shortchanged.

Mable –  a box of frogs if ever one existed.

Yvonne – is Yvonne ! Unique and lovely.

To my new-found friends – I salute you with an early morning cup of tea.

Come on Mitch – Man up!

Those who have followed my trials and tribulations recently will have realised (and perhaps sympathised with me),  as not only do I have to live  with my monstrosity of a daughter, but now also “Mitch the boyfriend”.

My wife Wendy thinks it’s all fabulous. Tracey and her act like sisters and Mitch just does what he’s told.  He’s sent for the  birthday cards they forgot to buy;  for the milk they forgot to stop for on the way home; and for the lottery tickets just in case its our turn for the rollover.  “Ooh wouldn’t that be nice Derek, we could all go on a Cruise!”  (I’d launch a life boat someone near Crete with a handful of cash though).

Most recently Mitch has been making spontaneous impulse purchase whilst on his last-minute missions.  Last night he came back from Sainsbury, where he had been sent to collect some nail varnish remover and Head and Shoulders Shampoo.  He returned with his selections but also some vanilla candles and some pink suff for the toilet. “I thought these would be rather nice Wendy.  You keep such a lovely home and I thought these fitted nicely with the warmth and sentiment you share.”

“You stupid arse!” I mumbled. “You stupid arse!”