Lady J had no interest in the next set which was of seascapes as they had no animals in them. I, on the other hand was impressed, as the work was realistic and well executed. The artist approached for questions but from me he got congratulations.
Next came a set of six perfect old master copies. Julia looked on with critical interest and found nothing to complain about. For me, however, it was easy to move on quickly. I admire the work of all the old masters and am quite happy to own copies of their works. But when someone makes a living recreating them and expects praise, he will be disappointed as I find they lack the imagination to create works of their own.
Following that, it seemed the next sets were boring, boring and again pretentious, a total mystery and spilled paint.
But then, I came across a small group of pictures where small groups with normal but exaggerated body shapes were painted in everyday situations like picnics, barbecues and board meetings. The artist had taken great pains to create not just the situations but the whole gamut of expressions on all the faces. It was all I could do not to applaud out loud.
The artist was obviously the young girl almost hiding at the back of the room who seemed to be watching us for a reaction. I beckoned her over and handing her my card to get in touch, told her she should be proud of what she did. "Thank you, My Lord”, she replied, "I quite often wait on at these events and it's nice to be appreciated”.
At this point a young man came over to introduce himself and ask if I liked the paintings.
"Indeed I do", I told him, "I was just going to come over and congratulate you!".
I heard a sharp intake of breath from Lady J and joined her at the last section. What an absolute wonder. The artist had created magnificent portraits of a host of well known celebrities, which I know many others have done, but these were all brilliant in miniature. I was hesitant to beckon anyone else over but a lady of indeterminate age approached to ask if we liked the work. We both assured her we did and though I did not wish to buy any of this particular set, I would like to commission her to paint my wife. Julia beamed.
We went home quite happy that there are still artists out there who could create works that amaze and delight. As it was quite late when we got in, we wished each other goodnight and made ready to retire. I was about to plant a kiss on Lady J's cheek when she said, "And don't think I didn't notice you giving that young waitress your card, David. Taken up cradle snatching have we?"
"Oh, it's just in case we ever need a waitress, dear”, I stuttered.
I saw the grin on her face as she turned and left the room.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Did I Buy This?
Tuesday morning dawned bright and shining. Also bright and shining was Dawn, who wore a fluorescent cagoule as she did her paper round. The delivery of my paper, thrust through the letter box, was accompanied by the Dawn chorus which consisted of whichever popular song she was mangling today. At 6.30 in the morning I think Dawn should be confined to bed and not waking me up out of mine.
And so I got up. I had a coffee and read the paper before taking my wife her gallon at 7.30am. I wonder sometimes why I don't just move her bed to the kitchen next to the kettle or see if the local hospital will lend me an intravenous drip. Trouble is we wouldn't get the stand in the car easily if we went out.
It was time to give Oscar an antibiotic tablet. I could sense how enthusiastic Julia was about the role the vet had thrust upon her. I smiled as she noted that every time she had to give Oscar a tablet, everyone else disappeared rather than help. I told her in my case it was because I valued my fingers, to which she responded that her fingers had recovered. Very quickly I responded that I was quite fond of the original cover I had and didn't want them recovering, thank you. Julia looked at Oscar and decided later would be better anyway.
I suggested I looked for a blowpipe so she could dose him from a safe distance.
Oscar remained on his chair (they’re all his chairs) unfazed by our talk and still looking a little dopey. I knew that would change the minute a hand holding a tablet approached. Well, at least I knew for sure the approaching hand wouldn’t be mine.
We decided that today would be a good day to visit Lady J's father, the squadron leader. He lives in a retirement home nearby. We had placed him there because we felt it was no longer safe for him to be on his own. And, because we are out so much, it wasn't in his best interests to live with us. We do have him with us on occasion though.
The home is full of people who have retired from all the armed forces so he has plenty of people to talk to who understand him. Luckily, the fact that he repeats the same stories over and over and over again doesn't matter, as most of the residents have the memory span of a goldfish. Every three minutes you can see their eyes glaze over and they start again.
We arrived there just after 10.00 am so we knew that breakfast would be over. Oak Gables is a pretty building set in beautiful grounds right next to the sight all the residents wanted to see. The cemetery. They seemed to like being near their friends and it seemed a comfort they wouldn't have far to travel when the time came to join them.
The staff are really nice there and offered us a cup of tea while the search party made another sweep of the woods looking for my father-in-law. On odd occasions he seemed to think he had been shot down over France and so disappeared to hide from the Germans. It wasn't too unusual to have him returned to the home by someone who'd found him wandering around speaking French and asking where the Maquis were. This morning proved to be the same and he was brought back by Tom Thatcher the local shepherd. Luckily Tom had spent a little time in France and had enough of the language to convince Papa he was bringing him to a safe house where all the staff were in the Resistance.
It never seemed to occur to him that he was brought to the same safe house every time and that he'd never outrun the Germans on his Zimmer frame anyway.
I sat there quietly as he was brought in and resisted the urge to sit him down and say, “Und now Herr Squadron Leader, ve vill ask der kvestions!"
Julia fussed over her Papa as usual, straightening his straight tie, adjusting his shirt collar etc. You had to laugh. He can be as petulant as a child if not given the right clothes to wear. Last time we were here we had taken him shopping for new clothes, shirts, slacks and a new fleece, also socks and pajamas. Lady J had helped him as he's chosen two pairs of slacks, one blue and one grey, four shirts in a variety of colours, a blue fleece and pajamas and some very long woollen socks in black. The following day she'd taken a phone call from him saying that I'd left my clothes in his room. Julia told him they weren't mine, but he was adamant he didn't wear anything but Air Force blue, so they must be mine, and anyway they were too big to be his. This decision despite the fact he hadn't tried them. He has lost some weight recently and so we get regular calls if something seems a little big to say we'd packed my laundry in with his or he'd found my jacket in his room. He must think I strip off in there on a regular basis.
Today we suggested taking him out for lunch. As the sun was shining he agreed and so we packed him in the car and off we went. We first called in at a garden centre that was on the way as they also stock some nice gifts. Julia had seen a nice horse picture there recently, and I'd promised if it was still there I'd buy it for her. It was still there so bought and paid for, I laid it on the back seat beside my father-in-law. For the rest of the journey we heard, “Ooh, is this mine? When did I buy this?", numerous times.
We reached Flutterby's and all went in to be greeted by the staff. Papa's face lit up when he received a welcoming kiss from Hattie. He greeted her like an old friend, which she is, but you could tell he didn't remember seeing her before and didn't remember her name by the way he asked me, "Who is she, do I know her, what's her name?"
We were directed to a table and menus were brought. “I’ll have a rump steak", said Papa.
“No", said Julia and I in unison.
"No", said Hattie.
“You can't che
w it very well with those teeth, Dad", said I. “You left most of it last time. Why not choose something easier?"
We looked at the menu and made a few suggestions. “No", he said, "I'll have the home baked ham, egg and chips. But without the egg and with potatoes instead of chips. What did I have last time?"
We both pointed out he'd had the same meal last time, but forbore from telling him it was the meal he had every time except the first time when he'd had rump steak, or at least one small piece before giving up.
He finished what he could and then opted for a dish of ice cream for pudding while neither Julia nor I bothered. She because she was too full and I because I'd eaten half her chips and was full too.
We got back into the car ready to head off when we heard him say, “Is this mine? I don't remember buying it", and I mentally kicked myself for not placing the picture in the boot.
"I'll pay for lunch when we get there", he added, “it’s my turn", his generosity showing itself just at the right time. We pointed out he'd just had lunch and I saw the calculating look in his eye that said we were lying to save us spending money on him.
I suggested perhaps a short walk on the promenade might be nice and perhaps an ice cream at the end if the sun stayed out. Saying it sounded a good idea, Lady J started the car and off we went.
The sun was still out and we enjoyed a little walk along the quieter part of the prom. On the return leg of the walk, I noticed some activity up ahead and went to have a look, Julia and her Papa following on behind. Getting closer I saw it was the local am-dram (amateur dramatics) group out in force and in costume to advertise their current production. Unfortunately it was a piece about a WWII heroine and there were lots of German storm-troopers. I looked round to tell Julia's father that all was well with the world and could see him nowhere. Lady J was near me and engrossed in what the actors were doing. I called to her quietly, and without panic, asked if she knew where her Papa had gone. Quite calmly Lady J turned and told me not to worry as he couldn't have got far.
The theatre people drifted off no doubt to perform their matinee. I prayed he had not decided to hide in the theatre itself. Just at that moment we heard the squeal of brakes, and saw a minibus of actors trying to maintain their dignity as they got up from the aisle where they'd been thrown as the minibus stopped. There, right in the middle of the road stood Lady J's father, exhorting the police constable at his side to arrest all the Nazi swine on the bus who must have got here by submarine and come to cause problems.
Julia and I dashed over and with apologies to the bus driver and the actors, and also the smirking policeman, we escorted her father away.
We sat in a small ice cream parlour close by and I watched them both demolish banana sundaes while he told us about having arrested some infiltrators. I think we both said quiet words of thanks that he hadn't thought he was in France and hidden.
The afternoon drawing to a close, we all got into the car ready for the journey home. Julia's father, spying the picture I still hadn't consigned to the boot, said, "Did I buy that? I don't remember".
"Yes", we assured him, “you did, you bought it as a birthday gift for Julia". He seemed willing to accept that.
We arrived back at Oak Gables sanity intact. As we got out of the car the squadron leader said, "Don't forget my picture, will you?" To which I hurriedly replied, “Don’t you remember? I'm taking it to get a new frame”.
"Oh yes", he said, “I remember now”.
We took him inside and no sooner were we through the door than he bolted down the corridor to see if he'd missed tea. "Don't want to miss jelly and ice cream”, he said.
Just before he turned into the vacant dining room, he turned and pointed at me. “I know you, boy", he said. "I saw you with those Nazis. You're a spy aren't you?"
Defeated I took Julia's hand, and we left for home.
We entered the house quite tired after our trip. I passed Julia the picture that had been the cause of so much frustration. She lifted my spirits with her smile and asked, “Did I buy this? I don't remember doing so”.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
The Dentist
Oscar had his own idea of daybreak today. Seven minutes past five o'clock.
He first came into my bedroom and started a series of rather plaintive cries, each one increasing in volume until he had my full attention. That happened quite quickly, in case he turned his attention to biting my toe as has happened in the past when my response has been too slow. Anyway, having got my attention he indicated that he had a major problem and that I should follow him. I dragged myself out of bed and followed his lead into the lounge where he jumped on to a settee. I looked around for the problem but could see nothing so I sat down next to him to say, "show Daddy”. What I actually got was the cat climbing into my lap and indicating that his crisis was a severe lack of the attention that was his by right as Master of the House. So I stroked him until the cries became purrs.
It was still dark and I think my eyelids must have closed again, so he was lucky to get any of the automatic strokes. Surely he wouldn't have got me out of bed for just this? But I knew he would have done. I must have started nodding and the stroking slowed. He bit me and jumped off heading for his dishes. As I got near he started mewling again and indicating that I was the fool who was starving him. I picked up his dishes, took them for a wash and refilled them. At last the dumb human had got the message.
I attempted to go back to bed having deciphered my master's wishes, but I was no sooner ready to get back in than he jumped on the bed and curled up in the spot vacated by my body earlier. Instead, I forced my eyes to open and went to the office to look at my messages before it was time to shower and dress. As usual there were quite a few messages.
'Having trouble getting an erection?' asked one. 'Actually no', I thought, 'I have scaffolding all along the west wall having the gutters done’.
I was asked if my leaking bladder was an embarrassment and if so they had the answer. I didn't bother to respond.
And, no day would be complete without Mystic Psychic Mara writing to ask why she hadn't heard from me. Did I not understand I was putting my future at risk? Knowing it would probably cost me £50 to be told I was about to suffer a financial loss seemed silly, so I just hit the delete button. I've always maintained that if she wants to charge me a fortune to predict a windfall, why doesn't she just give me the information and trust me to pay her when it arrives?
I finished my mail and turned the computer off. Heading for the bedroom, I went to get ready for a shower, and afterwards I considered how I would dress. Should it be black as that would certainly be the mood as Julia's dentist appointment was that morning?
I walked though to the lounge and there she was with a coffee in her hand. “I’m sorry, dear", I said, “I didn't hear you and was letting you lie in as long as possible”.
“That’s all right, David dear, Oscar woke me up while you were showering so that I could wash his dishes and give him fresh food”.
"But I...”, I started, but didn't continue. Oscar had us both right where he wanted us and if I spoiled this way he'd just find another.
Dawn dropped the paper through the letterbox so I went to pick it up. “Quite late today", I said, "and no singing, must be a bad mood”.
I carried the paper back through to the lounge to find Lady J on the floor straddling Oscar. For all the world I thought she was trying to ride him, but then I saw she had tucked all his legs in so he couldn't run, as she tried to coax him to swallow his antibiotic by massaging his throat. There was an extremely cougar-like sound issuing from somewhere and I felt threatened, even though I was doing nothing. I backed out of the room again and heard a sharp intake of breath that told me one leg was free to do some damage... and just had.
At ten thirty we left to drive to the dentist. Lady J was rubbing the scratch on her arm as she took the wheel. The journey was very quiet as she's no fonder of going to the dentist than I am.
We parke
d at the lower end of the street and started to walk towards the surgery. On the way we passed a sandwich shop, where I took great pleasure in pointing out the nice things inside. I even suggested she might like to pick something up for later when her mouth was better of course.
We entered the dentist’s and took a seat in the waiting room. It wasn't long before Mr Dacre stuck his head out of the surgery door. "Mah Laydeee", he said, " coom een, coom een, we musta makea your poooor mouth abetter”. I settled to wait.
There were a few others in the waiting room, so I went to the toilet beside the surgery and started making a few groaning noises. I know it was a little cruel but I came out to see the others’ faces all showing various stages of panic.
Julia came out with Dacre fussing as ever. "Soona bea better mah Laydeeee. No eata till the preek it weara off”. She went to put her jacket on as he moved to the reception desk and I heard him say, "Just charge for a small filling luv", to the receptionist. I got out my wallet and paid witha smila ona my face.
I joined my chipmunk at the door and we left. On the way up the street again to the car we stopped at the sandwich bar where I bought a pork pie and a beef roll with raw onion and beetroot. I tried to translate Julia's mumbling and bought her an egg mayonnaise sandwich cut the posh way. I also bought her a homemade trifle and for once, ignoring my diet, got one for myself to keep her company. The sacrifices I make!
We made our way back to the car. I didn't want Julia to stand out in a crowd so I blew out both my cheeks and smiled at her. I don't think she was particularly grateful for my efforts. There were various mumbles as we drove home but I just nodded in what I hoped were the right places and said "Yes, dear”. I ate my pork pie as we were going and I'm sure she must have been happy that my stomach was partly full. Though I wasn't sure as she seemed to be squinting at me. Maybe the sun was in her eyes.
My Barsetshire Diary (The Barsetshire Diaries Book 1) Page 10