Monday, July 7

 The meal that we spent yesterday morning cooking was delicious, Tender meat falling off the bone, crisp vegetables and a superb gravy.  However, at the end of the repast, Marilyn calmly accepted the warm congratulations and solemnly announced that she was hanging up her apron.  After more than 60 years of cooking, cleaning and washing up she was calling it a day.  If I wanted a home-cooked meal, I was told, I could ring Stickybeaks Cafe and one would be delivered to me.

Fair enough!  The world moves on and we all have to move with it.

I'm waiting for a delivery.  I ordered the lift chair I had my eye on and it was coming from Melbourne.  Apparently, something went wrong and the local carrier asked for another one.  His website suggests that it might be delivered today but somebody is not keeping it up-to-date and I am somewhat in the dark.

The arrival of the new chair will upset the careful arrangement of our loungeroom.  It's not a large space and already has a two-seater and three other chairs.  the arrival of a rather large easy-chair will upset the equilibrium.  Of course, I will expect it will take the position directly in front of the TV and the lesser chairs will take subordinate places.  Maybe one will have to go and will then end up in Jamie's garage.  We shall see.

In today's story I was playing with cliches

IN THE BLINK OF AN EYE                                                                                MARCH 21, 2024

It’s not every day you get a chance to work in your dream job but Gerard was one of those lucky people who always landed on his feet. “If he fell in a cowpat, he’d come up smelling of roses,” his mother would say.  Alma, that was her name, prided herself on being well-read.  She had devoured every Danielle Steel ever written and was on the list at the library to be notified each time a new Nora Roberts was released. She also belonged to the local Reading Circle and enjoyed sharing her knowledge of the world with her group of similarly well-read friends.  She was very proud of Gerard who had worked hard at school and had even won the Founder’s Cup for most promising student in Year 6.

When Gerard heard he had landed the job at Automotive Industries, he was on the ‘phone in a flash to tell his mother.  She could not have been more pleased and, without pausing for breath, she rang around her friends to let them know. 

Gerard started his new position on the following Monday.  He was shown the desk he would use and it was suggested he might take the first morning to acclimatise himself to his new surroundings.  It all seemed too good to be true and Gerard rubbed his hands together with delight.  However, precipitously, everything changed.  As he was being introduced to his fellow-workers, one of them seemed familiar.  Where had he met her before?  And, like a shot, it came to him.  It was Beatrice Brown, his nemesis from primary school.

In a flash, those long-repressed memories came flooding back.  He squirmed as he recalled how she had teased him, told tales about him to his class-mates and dobbed him in to the teacher.  They had been together in the same class for the whole six years of primary school and had only been separated when his parents had made the sacrifice to send him to the local grammar school.  Now, it seemed, he and she would be working closely together.  His heart sank as he thought of all the things that would go wrong if they had to work together.  What could he do?  But, as ever, when put on the spot, his brain didn’t let him down.  Like greased lightning, the words tumbled from his mouth.

“Beatrice and I are old friends.  I don’t think it’s appropriate that people who know each other well should work closely together so I suggest that a job be found for her in another department.”

Not wanting to upset their new star employee on his first day, management agreed in a trice.  Beatrice looked quite down in the mouth but it couldn’t be helped.  Presto, the problem seemed to be solved.

I’d like to think that everybody lived happily ever after but life’s not like that. Beatrice was no fool and, instantaneously, she reacted with her usual savoir-faire.  “I have a better idea,” she said.  “Why don’t I become Mr Brown’s secretary.  I know him better than anyone and can anticipate how he might want things to be done.  And, because I’ll be working so closely with him, he can make sure that nothing goes wrong.”

In a wink, it was done.  The Managing Director, who, if truth be told, rather fancied Beatrice, agreed to the proposition and Gerard was forced to smile and accept it.  In the blink of an eye, all his hopes and dreams were shattered and he could do no more than look forward to a bleak future with Beatrice involved in every aspect of his life.  What would his mother say?