Telstales

Tag: humour

  • The lollipop

    Mid evening, dark outside, wintery cold time of year, and there’s a gentle tapping on the front door and giggling voices.

    Strange, I thought, as no one usually calls in an evening, must be local kids, usual prank, ‘ knock and run’, or more updated, modern and lazier version doing the rounds of ‘knock and couldn’t be bothered to run!’

    So, decided to investigate. Crept to the door, and opened it in a much gusto way…like ‘taadaaah’.

    And at first I couldn’t see anyone, then realised looking down towards the ground were two young kids each holding plastic bags.

    One, positively ‘sales kid of the year’ (and yes, it’s only early January!) politely asks if I would like to buy a ‘bag of sweets for £10.00?

    Now, my modern day of living I find I just don’t possess cash in pocket anymore and noting they can’t accept credit or debit card payments I just politely replied, “I’m sorry, I just have no money.” Being so impressed by their entrepreneurial prowess and determination of these two young kids, what I was supposed to say was “I’m sorry, I don’t have any cash on me.”

    The kid looked up at me and my ‘plight’, opened up the plastic bag of sweets, reached in, fumbling around and produced a lollipop!

    “Here, have this. You can have it for free!”

    “Thank you so much,” I replied as the lollipop was launched into my low down reaching out hand. “That’s very kind of you!”

    Closing the door, as the kids raced to the next house in the street, I felt wrecked and yet immensely proud.

    With me saying “I had no money” produced an act of kindness from a young kid who must have thought I was in a state of financial ruin and had decided to let me have one of the sweets for free!

    There’s still hope in the world!

    now for a cup-of-T

  • A New Year’s resolution..pah, that went well!

    I’ve never been one to make any form of resolution for New Year.

    Years ago, it was more of the usual, “1st January, that’s it, I’m on a diet” knowing full well that the ‘food’ excess purchases to cover the Xmas period ‘must’ be consumed before the ‘use by date’ arrives and knowing that ‘well, it’s only a short lived over indulgence’ which will go back to normal calorie intake soon…hopefully. ( in reality, it never does!)

    So, not being one to make resolutions, and as I sleep poorly overall, reaching the magnificent lengths of maximum five hours sleep per night, I told myself as others can get a longer sleep pattern that from 1st January, this has to change.

    Now, I’m not saying to sleep in all day, not even all morning to lunch time, but going to bed at around midnight, it would be satisfying to wake at seven rather than silli-o-clock each morning.

    Therefore my one and only resolution for the year was (not is) to get a better, more settled night’s sleep and if I do wake up, to try my best to stay settled, relaxed and undertake the recently read article that to lie there with an empty head (ok.. can achieve that as it’s empty most times 😵‍💫😁) and pick any letter of the alphabet and think of all the things beginning with that letter then one will quickly doze off to sleep.

    Fine in theory. I tried. But the letter Q and then X I chose as my letters to think of all the words I could find was too limited and as I got more frustrated, I found that the process of trying to think of a more meaningful letter was making the cogs inside my walnut whirr leaving me going into ‘wake up completely’ rather than ‘go back to sleep mode!’

    Hence, I got up as usual (five hours sleep) and gave up on my New Year resolution venture, being just too complex for me to achieve!

    now for a cup-of-T

  • Packs of ‘I don’t really need that many!’

    Ahh someone’s birthday in January!

    Birthday card bought. Stamps. Can’t find any stamps in the house.

    Local store, no stamps.

    Larger supermarket, as I needed to dispose of old batteries and to buy just a few items which were non Christmassy related as it’s still Twixmas or Crimb Limbo time of year; aka no booze, no food, no biscuitty and definitely no sweety items needed, I thought ahhha, will collect stamps from here.

    “Hello, could I have a pack of first class stamps please? (Knowing they don’t sell single stamps, just in a pack of four and only wanting one, then the remaining three ‘may’ come in useful at some point of the year ahead. That is, hoping I don’t misplace them over time, at home, which is highly likely!)

    “Sorry came the reply. We’ve run out of first class stamps”

    “Really? I wonder why that is then?” I said in a light hearted manner knowing full well the reason why.

    “Oh, it’s just because of the Christmas rush and folk wanting to make sure their Christmas cards and presents got there on time!

    “Oh, ok.” was my knowingly reply. I had already guessed that!

    “We do have second class stamps though.”

    “Ahh ok can I buy four second class stamps then please?”

    “Sorry, we only sell them in eights!” came the reply from a smiley customer service person.

    Dilemma. I only wanted one. Four was a lot really, but eight?…. When will I use seven more…decisions, decisions! (The older I get, the bigger the queue behind me I notice always forms when I have to ponder and discuss in my own head the pros and cons of any dilemma!)

    I could go on a mammoth multi shop trek trying to buy a pack of four first or second class stamps elsewhere, but really, for devilment, I thought, what the heck, let’s just buy the eight and then try to work out seven more things I will need to stick stamps on so they’re not wasted! And to add to the complications of second class stamps they will no doubt need to be posted at least a month in advance to match any delivery deadline I will have in future. It all gets more complicated as I go along.

    “Oh, go on then, a pack of eight will be good, thanks,” saying it with very little conviction in my voice.

    So, purchase made, card written, second class postage stamp attached and posted in the post box, well ahead of the recipient’s birthday, so much so, they will probably misplace the card I sent by the time their birthday arrives!

    Now, where’s a safe, memorable place to keep seven stamps?

    time for a-cup-of-T ( while I think)

  • Easter eggs in December?…eh?

    Leading up the the usual 25th December mad panic to buy a years worth of groceries to make sure there’s enough of everything for that one ‘supermarket closure’ day, I noticed there were a whole year’s worth of seasonal occasions available to buy.

    Still selling dwindling supplies of Halloween costumes and artefacts at now greatly reduced ‘buy-one-get-the-rest-free’ prices, all the usual Xmassy stuff now being slightly reduced in price as it’s ‘not quite Christmas day yet’ including sad looking Xmas trees which had already started giving up the fight and losing their own needle thingies which normally keeps them green looking through to New Year. Sun creams and Summer attire for that 2026 Summertime holiday not reduced in price, obviously!. Valentines day cards and gifts on a stand all on it’s own and, wait for it, ‘Easter Eggs ‘, yaay!

    So, thinking of the grandchildren, one ten and the other five years old, (and both believers) I thought, what a jest if Santa Claus could just deliver one Easter Egg to said recipients along with the usual snow capped mountain of presents they usually receive. I wonder what their reaction would be and would they question why Father Christmas would even think of providing an ‘Easter egg at Christmas? ‘

    Well, the usual whirlwind opening frenzy of presents took place faster than anyone had the chance to photograph or video it happening and to cap it all, the Easter egg opening had a comment…’ Yess!….an Easter Egg!’ yet no mention during or after that annual whirlwind event as to ‘why on earth would Father Christmas send me an Easter Egg for Christmas?’

    My job is done!

    now for a cup-of-T

  • The ‘Library’ says….shhh!

    Christmas time..family here…silence?

    I say to six folk here in the living room,” anyone want a brew?” Silence.

    “Anyone want a brewwww?”in a more demanding yet chilled way. Nothing.

    Nothing. So nudged the first family member “Want a brew?” “Eh? Oh, erm, hmmm….erm..ok, please” …which triggered an avalanche of comments pouring down the audio waves with various requests of liquid forms. Then silence.

    Returns ten minutes later, places said requests to appropriate family members. (I did write down who wanted what just like in a cafe service as there’s no way I could ever remember six varying requests, sometimes I can’t even remember my own request for a brew I want!)

    Distributing five drinks with ‘silence’ as their replies, I nudged the sixth recipient as I placed their drink down. ” Oh, thank you!” came the response followed again by an avalanche of ‘thank yous’ from the other five. Then silence.

    I stood at the doorway of the living room looking at each of them. They were obviously engrossed with their mobile phones…face-booking, inst-a-gramming, real-reel-and-virtual-real-reel watching, bar-gain-hun-ting to name a few things I could see they were engrossed with as I placed each cup next to them. Standing their looking at them all, it was just as if they were all just strangers sat in a ‘Library,’ a ‘digital library’ engrossed in their own world, doing their own thing, in silence. There was no need to act like a Librarian authoritively and periodically saying out loud “Shhhh, this is a library, no talking” it was just silence, total silence. No communication between any family member. Just as if they were total strangers!

    I guess that’s a modern equivalent of the traditional Library, just relocated to the living room of your own home!

    now time for my own cup-of-T

  • Tiz the one in the red suit, very real!

    Father Christmas aka Santa Claus must be so confusing for children who don’t really understand what confusing means. There’s really only ‘one’ Father Christmas! Surely that’s correct?

    As Christmas approaches following dressing up evening on Halloween and being rewarded with a ton of sticky sweets for knocking on folk’s doors yelling ‘Trick or Treat’ at those who dare open their front doors. Then watching explosive sky bombs of all the colours of the rainbow and noises magically saying to the families below “Hey watch me as I light up the sky for you for a few seconds that’s just cost you £20.00 a time!

    And as soon as the last sparkler fizzles out and splutters it’s last fizzle in a nearby bucket of water, attention via grown ups then changes to decorating their houses and gardens with a multitude of ‘I can do better than you’ ornate Christmas lights from 6th November onwards as their thoughts of forthcoming Christmas time looms.

    Now, not being anti Christmas whatsoever, yet children believe in Father Christmas who secretly invades our homes in the middle of the night all around the world very very early on Christmas morning to leave presents for those who take part, to open on Christmas morning and that’s wonderful! ( Father Christmas is a kind of anti burglar, so to speak!)

    Children’s faces light up as they see the humungous amount of presents he’s carefully positioned under the pristinely decorated and lit up Christmas tree with each present carefully labelled and hand written by a parent, guardian, relative, ensuring that the correct present ends up beside the right household member, including any pets to open up following the distribution operation is completed. In a child’s mind it must be quite amazing to think that Father Christmas has the ability to write every label just like their parents, guardians and relatives write. Never challenged or questioned, just an amazing feat from the little big guy in a red suit and oversized overly fluffy white beard!

    Yet how confusing must it be for the believing child as Christmas approaches.

    There’s only one Father Christmas. Spends all year with his elves sorting through lists of children’s wishes where they are busy all year round making toys and gifts including the latest mobile phones, so very clever, and all from a workshop at the North Pole and all ready to be delivered to everyone around the world early on Christmas morning whilst everyone’s asleep. Magical, yes, truly and never challenged or questioned, so it can’t be confusing for a child?

    Thoughts inside a child’s mind with the forthcoming excitement knowing that the one and only most important person in their life at Christmas time who brings tons of presents will do so on time, on schedule, no delays and most importantly invisible. It just happens. It just does!

    So how does a child interpret the ‘Meet and Greet’ sesh Father Christmas usually does, in the lead up to Christmas? Why would he do that when he’s supposed to be overseeing mass toy production on an off-the-scale measure? Surely he knows what all children wish for as he’s magical and clever? And when each child ‘explains again’ as they’ve  already written him a letter of what they want, how on earth does he remember it all? Has he got a direct elves hot line to pass all the information on or requirements per child? And how does he know where every child lives as he never asks for their address?

    Even more so, how does a child feel seeing Father Christmas riding round a local estate where they live, on a trailer type float being pulled by a clapped out transit van chugging out diesel fumes directly into Father Christmas’s white beard and face with ‘Jingle Bells’ hammering out through over-volumed reverberating loud speakers and shouting “Merry Christmas” to anyone who dares to open their doors to watch him ‘float’ by? You’d have thought he would just be 24/7 working towards his deadline with no time to spare.

    How did the children cope when at a local ‘Meet and Greet’ sesh where very long queues built up and the organiser had to apologise infront of all adults with their excited children saying “I’m so sorry for the delays today, one of the Father Christmas’s phoned in sick!” Eh, I thought there was supposed to one be one?

    So how do young children cope with Father Christmas anomalies which crop up towards Christmas. In a very grown up way by being very dismissive as the actual event of the arrival of Father Christmas far outweighs any preconceptions that he’s more than one person. Yet they don’t challenge it, don’t question it and maybe just accept it all as if they were to mention it, the truth may come out and all that magicalness will dissolve away!

    So, the big event arrives and with a whirlwind of mayhem it’s done and dusted. Presents opened, toys being played with. ” Thank you Father Christmas!…. When’s dinner? I’m hungry!”

    now time for a cup-of-T

  • “Ding Dong..Ding Dong…bang bang bang”

    Yes..the delivery person arrives.

    The usual, overzealous and repeated door bell ringing followed by the “bang bang bang” on the door with either their fist (which must be really sore at the end of a 160 usual parcel delivery day) or their tracking phone which must be made of some totally indestructible material or a small rubber mallet they keep on their person. I sometimes think of the eventual damage affect it’s having on the front door?

    And even being in over zealous mode awaiting my arrival to it from the inside…I really can only go at one speed nowadays..aka, slow. I’m fact I feel the more over zealous they are the slower I become!

    “Hi there” I say, as I open the door trying to look the delivery person in the eye, whilst looking at the parcel being delivered and also acting discreetly, a bit like a curious giraffe (whatever one of those looks like) twisting my ‘short’ neck trying to scan the door for any obvious delivery door damage so I can pounce and say “have you done that to my door?”

    But before I could really get beyond the “hi” bit the delivery person said, ” Sorry I’m a bit late.” “That’s ok” I replied, knowing that the timing of the delivery was well within the two hour time framed delivery slot.

    “Only, there was no house number on the parcel, just the street name. So had to call my boss who looked into it and after a while told me the house number”

    “Aww that’s fine” I replied, “And thank you for taking the time to look into it and more so finding the right house number.” I was really quite impressed.

    As the parcel was scanned with the ‘indestructible tracking machine,’ I casually commented that it wasn’t a problem that the parcel had no house number, as the house has it’s own house number emblazoned on it, so it would have been easy to find.

    With that, there was this few seconds pause after my comment had been expressed and I could hear the cogs whirring like an old clapped out machine as the information received was being processed.

    As the penny dropped, the delivery person just had that light bulb moment like the one when the microwave eventually ‘pings’ and commented in a dead pan way, ” Well, yeah you do have a house number on the door, but that doesn’t really help me when there’s none on the parcel.”

    Hmmm, I thought and exclaimed in a really positive way, ” Ahh, you’re so right!” ……hmmmm

    Time for a cup-of-T

  • “I can see clearly now”…well, I should.

    A trip to the opticians.

    Simple.

    Passed all the exams with full marks and needing close and distance glasses I chose ‘a pair’ for each type.

    “Will that not confuse you,” the assistant said politely. “No, I will be fine, thank you” was my courteous reply. Remember, the customer is always right!

    I have had vari-focals in the past, a kind of one pair of glasses fits all my needs, but just so hard to wear, mainly found myself living in squirly world on a daily basis. So since that period in my life I have always chosen one pair for close up/reading, one pair for distance/driving.

    So, really, this time around, why would my choice ever confuse me?

    I really don’t like shopping of any description, so to be a part of the optical session for 30 minutes was hard work for me to cope with and after my examinations to be shown an array of probably about 3000 pairs of glasses really overwhelmed me!

    “No Sir, sorry, you can’t choose those, they are for children and those you have moved onto are more suited for women”

    See, (no pun intended) not coping at all well!

    So, being shown the selection suitable for men, I chose a pair, within five seconds.

    “Yes, thank you, that frame, shape, colour and size will be fine,” I commented, not really wanting to try them on first, which I did though after being advised to at least see how they look on my face. Which I thought, what’s the point in that, as I can’t see ‘me’ and what I look like when I’m  wearing them!

    “Yes” they are fine, thank you.

    “Which lens would you like this frame for, the readers or driving?” “Yes please,” I confidently replied.

    “Yes, but which? ” the assistant repeated

    “Both readers and driving. I like the frame so, the same frame and frame colour for both my readers and driving please.

    Which brings me right back to the assistants earlier comment, “will that not confuse you?”…..”no, I will be fine, thank you!”

    In my mind I had quickly chosen a frame which I guess I liked and as I liked them then it’s obvious I would put both types of lenses into identical looking frames. I mean, why make life simple!

    In another two years I will be going back to my opticians and following the next examination, if I need a pair of glasses for close work and a separate pair for driving, I will make sure one frame will be bright yellow, the other bright blue.

    Confuse me, the assistant said. How did the assistant know?

    Of course it confused me. The moment I put my new driving glasses on to drive home, I thought, these are no good, what has the optician done? Only then to foolishly conclude I had put put my reading glasses on! And over time, somehow I’ve managed to get them so mixed up that my driving glasses have been left in the house whilst thinking I’ve got some sort of eye defect when I’ve tried driving putting on my reading glasses instead!

    This is me though. I think, why didn’t I listen to and take good advice from the assistant? Instead of saying “no, thank you, I will be fine” I had said ” oh, why’s that?” the assistant would have very much helped me to have two year’s stress free life in the optical part of my daily routine.

    And to try to make it a tad better for me, I bought a different coloured glasses case so I knew which was in each but as they both looked the same, well, it’s obvious of the outcome!

    By the way….the customer ( in my case, as me,) isn’t always right, more likely, often wrong!…time to listen more to those who know!

    now for a cup-of-T

  • Did I say too much?

    Visiting an elderly customer, Sam, been doing his garden for four years now, every fortnight all year round, I said the usual “hi” to him and after a short chat carried on working.

    Sam used to live in a large detached house and after his wife died and as the years rolled on, Sam just felt the house was too big for just himself, so he downsized to a small detached bungalow.

    His garden is fairly simple, small front lawn with bits of artefacts laid out in specific places, the same can be said for the rear garden too, albeit in the rear garden, beyond the lawn there are planted up borders which wrap around the perimeter fence lines and are filled with colourful plants throughout the year and giving varied gardening for me to do on each visit.

    Now, a while ago in another bungalow nearby, and after being helpful by doing a few DIY jobs, Sam became friendly with a lady, Betty, who lived on her own.

    They really are a great match and hit it off straight away, so much so that they developed a friendship in their elderly years, which is lovely to see such friendship and companionship spending time together, helping each other in their own houses, going shopping, eating out, visiting family and having several grand holidays together each year. Although, must say, they do live in their own bungalows, probably still needing their own space and semi-independence.

    And Sam soon introduced me to Betty and I became her gardener too, extra work for me!

    Now I’m always busy in folk’s gardens, never been a slacker, I charge by the hour as there are lots of different gardening tasks to do on each visit, I tend to keep chit-chat to a minimum, always conscious that the customer is paying for my time.

    Yet, it’s always good to talk and being friendly is a part of me and my gardening approach.

    So, my route always takes me from Sam’s garden onto Betty’s, the next stop. On my last visit, Sam was sat there in his conservatory, chilling out in a reclining chair, reading the newspaper, drinking a cup of tea and eating biscuits. I said “hi Sam and how are you today?” “Fine thanks” came the reply, “just taking a day off, resting, putting my feet up and having a whole day to myself doing nothing”.

    “Well, that’s a grand way to spend your day, enjoy the sunshine, oh and your tea and bikkies!” And with a few other comments about his garden and what I was there to do, I carried on working and noticing that after my noisy mowing and edging had finished and my quieter manual gardening tasks were underway, Sam had drifted off to sleep. So on my finishing I quietly walked away without disturbing him. Afternoon naps must be a super way to chill out!

    Onto Betty’s garden. Smaller front and back garden than at Sams, yet takes just as long mainly due to the back lawn holding various statues and other artefacts strewn around the lawn which kind of makes me dizzy when I mow it. Very intricate and difficult to mow, edge the lawns and clean up without knocking one of the said artefacts over. Still, it’s work and income so I don’t complain and like the challenge!

    Betty appeared as I ventured into the back garden. “Hi Betty, and how are you today?” Betty does get engrossed in conversation and it is quite hard after a couple of minutes chat to break free without appearing rude and me sliding into the conversation that I must ‘crack-on’ as I’ve more gardens to do today, seems to wash over her, it just doesn’t connect with me being busy.

    However in the brief chat she asked if I had called to Sams yet?

    “Oh, yes” was my reply, “looks like he’s just having day to himself, sitting in his reclining chair, reading the newspaper, drinking tea and eating biscuits and saying he was just having a day off to the point that he had fallen asleep whilst I was working there!…. Bless him!”

    “Bless him?….Bless him?” she bluntly replied, “he said he had a busy day today doing housework, washing, drying and ironing his clothes and really just too busy at home to do anything together today.”

    I just looked at her as she was looking more confused as she was speaking realising that maybe her friend Sam wasn’t quite as busy today as he had made out to be!

    And the penny dropped in my head that without realising it, maybe I had just said ‘a little bit too much’ and maybe just caused a problem of a non-gardening type!

    On finishing Betty’s garden I realised that her car was no longer on her driveway. I wonder where she went to?!

    now for my own cup-of-T

  • Three wasp whammi

    I’m not really afraid of bugs, insects and stingy thingys generally, kinda goes with the territory of my gardening business coming into close/very close contact with nature each day.

    Yet, I don’t care much for wasps. (Although, total respect for them)

    I’ve been told that if they land on you and you stay still they just mooch around your body then think….nah, nothing much going on here, so they fly away quite happily!

    That is, until they get just a little bit more aggressive. Was it something I did?.. hmm, probably!

    It wasn’t my fault, just a natural reactionary reaction!

    It wasn’t even during my working day.

    Just sat there minding my own business, one wasp decide to use my nose as it’s landing pad. Did I see it coming?.. nope. It just did it in a split second. Stay still?…. Nope!…react like an out of control wind mill?…ohh yes!

    In that split second that it had landed and my brain had computed what had happened….My hand in all my arm flapping motions knocked it off my nose, luckily without causing a nose bleed (whammie 1)…. Only to instantly realise I had knocked it off onto my arm when it was hanging on, from which my windmill arms realigned, I knocked it off again (whammie 2) only then to realise it had landed on my leg. Shrieks of bad language, from me, not the wasp, had me flailing about as I knocked it off again again (whammie 3)

    Angrily, the wasp (and me by now) whizzed around zipping and darting infront of me, and to my horror, two of its waspy mates had now turned up, presumably to join in with the fun, so I did an ‘exit stage left’ moment, like a coward, and hid indoors.

    Thinking it through afterwards, maybe I should just have stayed still when it first landed on my nose, but just had a vision of it crawling up one of my nose pipes and delivering a lil stingy thingy up there!

    I don’t care much for wasps! And I certainly didn’t care for an inflated and really sore nose pipe!

    now for a cup-of-T