His truck is parked in the drive; I am keen to enquire about the eggs in the flower pot.
“Wha…?” I begin, as I push open the gate.
Short Tony is stood at the washing line, hanging up underwear. He turns sharply at the squeak of iron.
“Don’t say anything,” he snarls.
I retreat a couple of paces. It is very odd and unsettling seeing him with clothes pegs in his hand. It is like inadvertantly witnessing Brian Cant with a whore.
Muttering something apologetic, I return to the Cottage to put the shopping away. The gender-reverse thing is getting ridiculous, especially since the LTLP has been working abroad and Mrs Short Tony has got her job. I blame the permissiveness of the sixties that culminated with free availability of the contraceptive pill, the wider availability of university education and the subsequent heightened political awareness of working class women, or the advent of BBC TV’s ‘The Vicar of Dibley’.
Later on, I pass Eddie, who is taking some mail to the Post Office in a properly feminine way. Later, I pop in to see her, and interrupt her cleaning the bathroom. This makes me feel a bit better, but I can’t help that she is a one-woman Village Queen Canute.
26 thoughts on “I potter over to Short Tony’s.”
I’m just amazed it was dry enough to be hanging out washing in the first place!
Also, I don’t think Brian’s going to be too happy at your ‘whistleblowing’.
Was she cleaning the bathroom properly?
Did I read that right? Is that Eddie or Mrs Eddie? Or is Eddie a gal?
I find it so hard to keep up.
But why the eggs in the flowerpot?
You’re not trying to grow chicken trees are you?
I think its good form to blame Vicar of Dibley for everything – war in Iraq, credit crunch and global warming…
Did he have a manly box for his pegs? Because you two could have gotten over that awkward moment by discussing peg storage options and then moved on to spring type vs solid type saying things like “total grip capacity” or “optimal poundage” thus possibly halting the Great Testicle Retreat of Norfolk, 2008
At least he still has a “truck”.
If he ever says that he is thinking of changing it for “something easier to park”, just punch him. If he replies to the question “What make/model/engine are you contemplating?” with “Oh, I don’t know- perhaps something red?” then just shoot him in the head. You’ll be doing him a favour.
Freudian References to ‘the squeak of an iron’ and queens in the village make me think the worm has already turned.
Throw in a couple of references to ginger beer and camping and you’ll have a workable script for a new Carry On Film.
I must have missed something important. I didn’t know the LTLP is working abroad. Do you mean out of Norfolk, like Leicestershire or something, or has she crossed the water? Is she coming back? Is she sending you regular housekeeping money?
Brian Cant consorts with whores? What? Is that what he meant by
“It really doesn’t matter if it’s raining or it’s fi-ine, Just as long as you’ve got time to P L A Y, playawaywayplayawayawayplayawayway” Hm. I might have missed out a few syllables there.
I was wondering if Brian would say something like: ‘I’m a whore, I’m a whore, what sort of a whore am I?’ and grin toothsomely whilst fraternising with said ladies of the night.
I expect I am just showing my age…
“Potter”, eh? I approve – much better. Still, needs an adverbial modifier to help it along. Is “rotundly” a word? If not, perhaps we can mint it in your honour, Jonny…
If Brian Cant with a whore, then with whom can he?
Eddie and Eddie. OH. It was right then – what I read in the Newsletter about the two misters? What with the village people an’all.
I think I confused myself there.
What’s the interest in eggs in the flower pot, JONNY? Personally, I keep mine in the casket with a slight squeak, next to the false teeth, just in case I’m peckish during the night.
Have you won any blogger awards recently?
Neither have I funnily enough, but maybe one day, when I lernt to spell and dat. If only I’d listened more during those lesson’s. I might right now have been a top blogger myself.
see, I read ‘eggs in the flowerpot’ and assumed mrs short tony is having IVF or something, and you were just being polite. Like women who say ‘I’ve got the painters in’ when the actually mean ‘fetch my hot water bottle, bitch’.
You and short Tony sound like the Norfolk version of ‘Stepford Husbands’
JB you are just SO fickle minded. But I guess that is why we all torture you – apart from Ivan, obviously.
There’s an ominous lack of mention of the toddler. Has the LTLP taken her ‘abroad’ with her or have you absentmindedly fed her to the chickens?
Perhaps you ought to take up some ‘manly’ country pursuit like shooting or something. South of the border the housemen shoot anything that moves. Seems to make them feel better, for some reason?
Yeah, manly activities to restore Jonny’s testosterone sounds like an excellent idea.
I think he should buy a vintage tractor and some dungarees. Then he can clank his spanners and drive around the lanes doing jobs for grateful horsey ladies.
I know – as a special treat – how about a cast list? Ideally with a few explanatory words or at least gender. Would that be asking too much? You could stick it in the side bar and then you wouldn’t be pestered about who’s who. I’d do it for you but HTML is not my forte.
I have added the line about witnessing Brian Cant with a whore to my little red book of things to steal in 5 years time when everyone’s forgotten about it.
Richard: Are you sure five years is long enough?
Again we ask what of the eggs in the flowerpot?
I used to think that the difference between eggs that have chicks in them and eggs that have yolk in them was that the yolky ones were just chick ones that had been shaken really hard.
In a special shaking machine at the factory.
Maybe the flowerpot is an improvised shaking device.
It appears that you are the master of search engine optimisation.
Duck – I do not have any egg boxes!!!
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