Helpfulness, hysterics and hindrances

Hudgies in Clare

Hudgies is a general store in Clare that bills itself as "Ironmonger, Oil & Colourman." It is set out like a period piece in some historic street museum, but is very much alive and thriving.  I have yet to ask for something Mr Hudgie does not have somewhere in the dark recesses of his inner sanctum (I always think of him thus, though it is not his name). He was once a high-flying fund manager with HBSC, based I think in Tokyo. Many people I know who made their money and retired early used to dream of running a small country pub, but this shop was his dream, and he plays the part to perfection. He wears a faded brown cotton warehouse coat that would be a shoe-in for Open All Hours, and he has a small black dog curled up in a basket beside him, perched on a stool.

This week, I asked if he had any glue capable of fixing the hard plastic of our fridge door handle which had broken off. He produced a tube called "Hard Plastic Glue" - and it seems to work a treat. I also asked about the best way to stop my leaky kitchen tap. "Vaseline on the washer", he advised, and didn't even try to sell me a tub. That too seems to have worked, and thus far the tap stays dry.

Ann's cousin Alan is staying with us again for a few days. He is the founder member of SAD, the Society for Acrimonious Divorce, and was back in the UK for a court appearance to try and finalise his divorce to Iris, the Trinidad women to whom he has remained shackled for two painful years since their separation. In court last week, she broke down in hysterical screams and shouts, lying on the floor, her midriff exposed, kicking her legs wildly. The judge tried in vain for fifteen minutes to calm her, then called the usher who was equally unsuccessful, and the proceedings came to a halt until she had burnt through her fury. At last, Alan got a relatively favourable judgement, and is hopeful that the whole miserable business will soon be concluded. He has vowed never to remarry, and we are sworn to remind him should he look to be straying from this vow.

We also had a few friends over for an informal wine and cheese evening. Most of them we invited verbally, with a telephone call. I invited our neighbours across the road personally when I met the husband in the street. After some debate about whether it would be appropriate, we also invited our next door neighbour, Linda, whose husband is still confined to a nursing home following his stroke. I had not seen her face-to-face for a while, so dropped a card in with the invite. When she came, she told us the other neighbours would not be coming, because they had not had a formal invite. I said no one had a formal invite; it was all quite last minute; she got one because I didn't see her. Ann asked how they knew. "I went over to ask if they were coming," Linda said. "My card was so pretty, I showed it them and asked if they had had one." She paused. "Oh, I hope I didn't stir things." 

Happy Birthday To Me

Eds brings the cake

My birthday and three quarters of the way through the DXT ceremony. A number of visitors came to cheer me on, including the Great X with son Matthew and his new partner Rosie, and Mary-Anne and Sam and their two girls. Sam told some wonderful tales, such as the report on the Hundon Facebook page that a local burglar had been caught and would be sentenced in the new year. This brought a number of comments, including one from the burglar himself who said, "I didn't do it. You'll regret this when they find me not guilty!"

Another of his stories was of a mate of his who was having a microwaved Christmas dinner for one. His wife had walked out, and his own mother helped her pack up the things and move them out. She went off with a new man, drained his bank account so he couldn't reinsure his van for work, and took his name off the school mailing list to prevent him ever attending things involving his children. Definitely a candidate for Alan's SAD (Society-for-Acrimonious-Divorce). 

Sam is good at topping stories. Ann mentioned a friend of hers who had a strong odour, whom they used to call Bo. She thought it was a compliment referring to Bo Derek, even when her work mates left antiperspirants and talcum powder in her drawer. But Sam found one of his work mates shaving in his wing mirror. Another candidate for SAD, his wife had also thrown him out (the mate, not Sam), and he was having to sleep in his car. He smelt so bad he was banned from the bookmakers!

Please add any comments if 2018 has a special memory for you too

Mail to: grandad.john@2from.com