Mamalade

I do enjoy my grandchildren. Miles is 8 and Hayley is 4. I never know what they will say next. Here are a few recent gems….

We had chicken and vegetables for dinner. Hayley enjoyed her meal.

“You cook good vegetables, Meemar,” she said. Then she tried the chicken. “You cook good chicken, Meemar,” she said.

I told her I had bought it already cooked from the shop.

“You really do shop well, Meemar,” she said.

Miles said, “ I’d like to be wealthy when I grow up.”

“Some rich people are not very happy,” I said. “Do you know who the happiest people are? The ones who are content with what they have.”

“Well, I’m pretty content,” he said. “I have my own library card!”

We were looking at some old photos.

“How did Ben get so tall?” asked Miles. “He’s bigger than something I saw at the Ekka!”

“Did you go to Day Care today?” I asked Hayley.
“It’s Kindy!” She informed me. “I’m four now.”

“Oh yes,” I said. “You’re growing up.”

“Yes,” she said. “It won’t be long before I die!”

Our World Vision Club had a street stall last week. I thought it was a bit slow, but then, I was down the end with the plants, and not many people want plants now, with the water restrictions. Over all we did very well.

The morning brightened when the an elderly trio of buskers arrived. They have improved a lot since I first heard them play in the street, but the wild flourishes of the trombonist are still sufficiently off key to make it a most enjoyable comedy performance. They would frequently stop in the middle of a song to exchange a bit of repartee with their audience, and whenever someone tossed them a coin, they rang a huge cowbell. They were so jolly. Most of the people passing by had a huge smile on their face, and some stopped to sing along. “There’s nothing like good music,” remarked the guitarist.

Their enjoyment was contagious. By the end of the morning I could no longer resist. I searched through the glove box of my car and found an old comb and some paper, just in time to join them in their final performance. Yes, I actually stood on a busy street and played “Knees up Mother Brown” on a comb and paper!

The old man was right. There’s nothing like good music. And this was nothing like it, but it was fun!

Last week I attended our Toastmasters Area Conference and competed in the Humorous Speech contest. The standard of all the speeches was very high this year. I really thought they were all better than mine, so I was surprised to come third. Now, third is a very comfortable position. It means it wasn’t the worst speech after all, and it also means I won’t have the stress of competing at the Division Conference. I’m happy with that.

You can read my speech if you like. “When You are Three.” It’s mostly about Joel.

He hasn’t seen it yet!

Some people will do anything to get to a Toastmasters meeting. One night recently, when we turned up, we found that the City Council had dug up the road for new water pipes and had blocked off the entrance to our hall. Some of our members climbed over the fence to get in. Others crawled under the barricade. A few of us drove around the block and found the partly obscured entrance to a steep rocky track that led to the back of the building.

Everyone arrived looking rather breathless and slightly disheveled in their finery. We had all decided to dress up a bit that night, because we were having a special farewell for a beloved long term member who was leaving the area.

It was a wonderful evening. We gave our friend a great send off with a Roast, and a “This is Your Life” segment, and presented her with a bouquet of roses and a book of memories we had compiled.

A few of us took photos, but it wasn’t until the next day, that I realised we photographers had missed the real action. We should have been out on the road snapping pictures of people climbing over the fence and crawling under the barricade! Now that would have looked good in the local paper – ’specially if we’d got one of the lady who straddled the fence in her long evening gown and tiara!

Oscar brought me mouse the other morning, just before daybreak. Ollie, my other cat sprang into action and chased it into the bathroom.

“Perfect,” I thought, closing the door on Ollie and the mouse. “The mouse can’t escape. Problem solved.”

Oscar howled about the unfairness from outside the bathroom door. Experience has taught me to not shut Oscar in a room. It gives him the screaming heeby jeebies!

Thumping & pouncing noises from the other side of the door indicated that Ollie was getting on with the job, so I left her to it while I did a load of washing.

All was quiet, when I returned some time later. Gingerly, I opened the door and Ollie calmly emerged. I stepped into the room.

Aaaugh!! A very alive mouse raced across my bare foot! I grabbed a plastic container and lay it on its side on the floor. The mouse soon ran into it, looking for shelter. Voila! I slapped a lid on it and carried it outside, apologising to the poor little mouse all the way.

“You poor little thing,” I told it. “You shouldn’t have had to go through all that. Never mind, I’ll take you outside and hit you on the head with a brick so you won’t have to suffer….”

The mouse must have taken great comfort in that thought.

I took it out onto the back and squatted down with a brick poised as I upended the container.

The mouse bolted. On no, it was going under the house!

But wait….there was a sudden flash of grey and white. Was it a bird? Was it a plane? No, it was Super Shadow, the neighbours cat! He leapt the fence with a single bound and grabbed the mouse in his jaws.

“Good on you Shadow!” I cheered. Then I remembered…. Shadow has a kidney complaint and is on a special low protein diet. A mouse meal might be fatal.

I chased after Shadow, trying to take the mouse from him. Up and down the driveway we raced, until he dropped the mouse and it ran through the fence, into my neighbours yard. Shadow jumped the fence and flattened a row of Hippeastrum lillies as he played hide and seek with the mouse.

It finally escaped by running through the palings under my neighbour’s house.

He is a mighty mouse. After all that, he really deserves to live. Do you think I should tell my neighbours they now have a mouse?