{"id":1613,"date":"2015-03-28T04:51:46","date_gmt":"2015-03-28T04:51:46","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.fatbeetle.com\/blog\/?p=1613"},"modified":"2015-03-29T21:06:45","modified_gmt":"2015-03-29T21:06:45","slug":"poirot-and-the-swedish-lemon-tree","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.fatbeetle.com\/blog\/?p=1613","title":{"rendered":"Poirot and the Swedish Lemon tree"},"content":{"rendered":"

This month, for a change, I’ve broken this up into sections, with titles, so you can skip the bits you don’t like. (“How about we just skip all of it!”<\/em> they all chorused, oh my aching sides, I just didn’t see that one coming! You twats. \ud83d\ude42 )<\/p>\n

This change is due to me abandoning the old “front page”, and using the latest missive as the front end. What do you think, does it work?<\/p>\n

Clicking on any image will take you to the relevant gallery, and larger images.\u00a0<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

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Cricket;<\/strong><\/p>\n

As a mark of how “organisation\u201d isn\u2019t my strong point, it was only in the week before the first of the world cup matches I was due to attend that I realised that I was rostered \u00a0to work on the days of two of them. Gary was NOT best pleased when I asked him to shift swap, his morning shift for my evening shift, \u00a0at short notice. He was even less pleased when I told him I was only going to work the early\u00a0section (8.30 am to 12.30 pm,) of those days, leaving all the loonies to his tender care. But, fair play to the lad, he did me proud. So, on those there days, I skipped work at 12.30, drove home, changed into whatever ludicrous outfit I was wearing that day and drove into the city, and parked the car at great expense. Soon after, I\u2019d meet with an aghast Lee-Anne, (\u201cam I really married to this clown?\u201d<\/em>) I\u2019d give her the car keys, and catch the free bus to the ground. After the match I\u2019d take the bus back into town, and Lee-Anne would pick me up from there. I was normally rather well refreshed by this point.<\/p>\n

Arriving at the ground I\u2019d meet up with Adam and Helen.<\/p>\n

I actually met Adam and Helen for the first time at the first match. But, as it seems Adam is as big a cricket tragic as I, we must have both been online at exactly the time that the tickets were first released. Thus we had ended up buying tickets right next to each other for each and every match. Not only that, but an old boy and his Mrs, whose name I didn\u2019t catch, had the seats in front of us for all three matches. Adam is Polish, not a nation known for its cricket enthusiasm, but for all that he proved to be as boring as me.<\/p>\n

Funny thing is he doesn\u2019t drink, neither does Helen. That was handy, as I do. This meant they could watch my kit for me when I went off to get more beers in, or when I \u00a0fucked off to circumnavigate the ground taking photos. I tended not to eat while there, as the food was shite, which didn\u2019t help my alcohol consumption rate one bit.<\/p>\n

I won\u2019t bore you with ball by ball descriptions of the games, suffice to say they were all fab.<\/p>\n

The first one, Bangladesh vs Afghanistan<\/a> was amazing. The Bangla boys are great enthusiasts, loads were wearing fancy dress, and drums and singing were the order of the day. The crowd was roughly 80 % Bangladeshi, 15 % Aussie and 5 % Afghani. This must be the first match I\u2019ve been to where I took more images of the crowd than the match!<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>\u00a0\"\"<\/a>\u00a0\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Though I did catch this scorcher of a \u201cbails off\u201d shot.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Windies against Zimbabwe<\/a> was a massacre. Big Chris Gayle<\/a> slamming big hit after big hit, (16 sixes, 10 fours,) to reach a record 215 runs, and Windies clocking up what was, for a short while, the highest ODI score on Aussie soil of 372 runs.<\/p>\n

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Ireland against South Africa<\/a>? Lets say that the Ireland supporting contingent who turned out, myself included, were 90% of the crowd, and a bit partisan to say the least. The crowd were a riot of Irish costumes, and flags. The Saffers were as miserable a bunch of pricks as you can imagine. I love watching Hashim Amla<\/a> play though, and, as ever, he had a good knock, scoring 159 off 128. Ireland, inevitably, ended up getting hammered.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>\u00a0\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

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\"\"<\/a>\u00a0\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

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That\u2019s the end of the live cricket for me for this year, you\u2019ll be glad to know. We won\u2019t have another season like that while I\u2019m still here, so I\u2019ll be going up to Sydney or Melbourne to see games for the next couple of years. Me and Lee-Anne intend seeing an international match, (either T20, ODI, or 5 day test,) at each and every major ground in Aus before we come back to Blighty to live. We\u2019ve got Hobart,<\/a> the WACA, <\/a>the Gabba<\/a> to go.<\/p>\n

The whore next door.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Neighbours. At the new house, on one side of us we have Gary, an old bloke who looks a spitting image of The Simpsons \u201cMr Burns\u201d<\/a>. He\u2019s pleasant enough, always says \u201cHello\u201d<\/em> and passes the time of day. I cannot imagine him becoming a mate like Pat from Henry St was\/is, but he\u2019s cheerful enough. Next to him is a very old boy, who doesn\u2019t come out much.<\/p>\n

Next but one on the other side we have Tim. Our first exchange went thus; \u201cHello, I\u2019m Taff, I\u2019m just moving in!\u201d \u201cHello, I\u2019m Tim, I\u2019m just moving out!\u201d<\/em> That\u2019s not cause and effect there, just in case you were wondering. Tim is an unreconstructed hippy, a \u201cdrum circle\u201d hippy, one with a \u201cAtomkraft? Nein Danke\u201d<\/span> sticker on his car. So we\u2019re not overly upset he\u2019s moving on.<\/p>\n

BUT, the guy between us and Tim, our most immediate next door neighbour, we haven\u2019t seen, let alone met, yet. I did meet a little girl, presumably his daughter who, again presumably,\u00a0has limited access too, once. She was sweet, but shy, and took a great liking to Digby.<\/p>\n

One night I came home from work to find a scantily clad, dolled up, rather buxom young lady stood outside our porch. I parked up, and approached her. It didn\u2019t take a great deal of imagination to realise she was what the late Mr Pratchett,<\/a> (RIP mate, thanks for the kind comments,) would have called; \u201cA young woman of negotiable affection.\u201d<\/a> First thing that went through my mind was; \u201cIt\u2019s not my birthday, I\u2019m not due a treat, and Lee-Anne hasn\u2019t mentioned getting a girl in, so what\u2019s up?\u201d<\/em> I asked her if I could help; \u201cI\u2019m looking for number 40, got a date.\u201d<\/em> I saw Gary\u2019s post-box read number 36, so that could only mean the house the other side of us. I escorted her across, just for her safety, (ok, but mainly cos I\u2019m a nosy bugger, ) and yes, number 40 was marked on his wall. \u201cI\u2019ll just have a fag before I go in thanks\u201d<\/em> she informed me, and texting someone on her phone, she lit up and stood outside. I left her to it.<\/p>\n

All I can say is, it\u2019s legal here, we even have a government inspector of brothels,<\/a> and if he\u2019s lonely, or horny, and he at least treats her well, (and tips,) and as long as she\u2019s not been coerced into working in the sex industry, who are we to cast aspersions? Best of luck to both of them.<\/p>\n

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Mary<\/strong><\/p>\n

Mary\u2019s attempt at getting to be recognised as the world\u2019s most bonkers old bint continues.
\nThe first time she came around to our new place, Lee Anne asked her, after showing her about the place; \u201cWhat do you think of the house mum?\u201d<\/em> Her reply \u201cYes, no, no, no.\u201d<\/em> So Lee-Anne left it at that, we still don\u2019t have a clue as to what she thinks of it.<\/p>\n

She also has an infuriating habit of feeding our dogs. For a woman who is obsessed with losing weight, she seems to make up for her own lack of eating by force feeding animals. Her back porch is a mess of seeds, fruit, and possum shit.<\/p>\n

But it came to a head the other day. When I drop off the dogs with her during the day, sometimes she\u2019ll be out. She won\u2019t have the dogs in the house as they once ate a book of hers. They\u2019ve been long cleansed of that habit since they ate one of mine, and got well beasted for it. But she won\u2019t believe that they will not eat her precious diet, \u201cfinding myself\u201d and other mad old bat publications. So the dogs go in her shed, there\u2019s a mattress and toys in there, and it has a mesh door so plenty of air circulates, not a problem.<\/p>\n

The other day when I dropped them off, there were bones everywhere for them. I tidied them up, binned them and told Lee-Anne about it. Lee-Anne went spare, as she\u2019s long warned Mary about feeding our mutts, as we don\u2019t want Mary to become their \u201cfood person\u201d, and split their loyalties. Not only that, but each and every time they stay there, they don\u2019t eat their evening meal at our place, which is a fucking waste of dog food. Mary tried to convince Lee-Anne that it had only been \u201ca couple of small scraps,\u201d<\/em> but I knew that it had been more than I could carry in two hands, enough for a pack of Beagles.<\/p>\n

Strong words were said.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Coronation Street<\/strong><\/p>\n

Families, who\u2019d have \u2018em?<\/p>\n

It\u2019s all doom, gloom and moaning back at the family mansion. My niece had the temerity to go and get engaged, and now she\u2019s planning her wedding. For many weeks the phone calls home consisted of the, not unexpected, drama of me listening to my mother go on and on and on and on and on about who should and shouldn\u2019t be invited. Also which permutations of relatives were to be considered. \u201cWell, if she invites cousin X, then she can\u2019t invite uncle Y, or otherwise nephew B won\u2019t go. But if she invites nephew B, but not aunty L, then grandchild C won\u2019t go. I don\u2019t know how she\u2019s going to manage it!\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

Then my niece made the most fatal error, she invited my mother, and told her the wedding was going to be held…..\u201dIn Bridgend!<\/a> I mean Bridgend is too far boy, you can\u2019t expect someone of my age to go there, nor your sister, it\u2019s not fair!\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

Just to put this in perspective; Bridgend is the sort of distance from Llanelli, <\/a>\u00a0where mam lives, that most people in Aus would happily drive to get a decent bag of fish and chips.<\/p>\n

\u201cBeen here before!\u201d<\/em> I thought. Fourteen\u00a0years ago, when me and Lee-Anne were getting wed, I had the same tale; \u201cPenzance?!?!? Penzance is too far boy, you can\u2019t expect someone of my age to go there, nor your sister, it\u2019s not fair! You have your wedding there, then bring everybody up to Llanelli, and we\u2019ll all go to the Dock Stars Club together.\u201d<\/em>
\nThree things went through my mind at this point;<\/p>\n

1. Mary, Lee-Anne\u2019s mother, was coming over from Australia to the wedding, her and Mam are exactly the same age.<\/span>
\n2. Organising our wedding was a pain enough, without organising a second do in Llanelli straight after.<\/span>
\n3. Why the fuck would I want to subject people to a night out at the Dock stars Club? It\u2019s an utter shithole which I have never ever frequented!<\/span><\/p>\n

Just to compound things my niece\u2019s partner phoned up Mam and told her what he thought of her refusal to attend. Then the shit REALLY<\/strong><\/em> hit the fan!<\/p>\n

Can\u2019t blame the lad, he\u2019s not really aware of how screwy my family is, and how they operate to different rules to the rest of society. First mistake he made was thinking that as weddings are fun family events, Mam would enjoy herself and be thrilled to be invited. WRONG! Mam doesn\u2019t do \u201cenjoy\u201d. Also he should have been made aware, that Mam\u2019s whole world is encapsulated in three streets, and anything outside of that may as well be considered as being as far away as Ulan Batar or Alice Springs. Not only that, but if you are organising something then the first consideration should be \u201cmaking it easy for Mam to martyr herself\u201d<\/em> by coming.<\/p>\n

He probably wasn\u2019t aware that Mam has an arsenal of universal truths that cannot be argued with, such as; \u201cThat\u2019s not right is it?\u2019 \u201cThey can\u2019t do that!\u201d \u201cIt\u2019s not fair see,\u201d \u201cWhat would people think?<\/em>\u201d and not forgetting \u201cIt\u2019s easy for you to say that, it\u2019s different for me.\u201d<\/em> With the ultimate weapon being; \u201cYou don\u2019t understand! \u201c<\/em> (It\u2019s pointless asking \u201cOk, well explain to me what I don\u2019t understand,\u201d<\/em> as that will bring the sub clause; \u201cYou think you\u2019re so clever, don\u2019t you?\u201d<\/em> into play. Conversation ends at this point.)<\/p>\n

So you may be wondering; \u201cHow the hell did you get her to come to your wedding in Sennen?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

Easy. The best way of playing a \u201cpassive aggressive\u201d person is to go along with them. I would phone up weekly, twice or three times a week even, and give her a report on how it was going. I\u2019d tell her of all the friends, relatives, and locals who were going to be there, how everybody was really looking forward to meeting Mary, and seeing Bethy as bridesmaid, how there was going to be a huge bash in a local hostel, with free bar, and the whole village turning out. Then I\u2019d finish it by adding, \u201cShame you\u2019ll miss it all, I\u2019ll bring in the photos up for you to see.\u201d<\/em> Then add some more spice, as in something along \u00a0the lines of; \u201cOh, did I tell you that a friend from the village is using her mobile hairdressers salon to do everyone\u2019s hair free, as a wedding gift to us?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

I will admit I\u2019d put a stop to the whole \u201cDock Stars\u201d idea, by telling her exactly what I thought of that. Even her super weapon; \u201cYou think you\u2019re better than us don\u2019t you?\u201d<\/em> didn\u2019t penetrate my resolve on that one.<\/p>\n

Eventually, she cracked, and not without letting us know what a huge sacrifice it was that she was making, and how nothing was right about our plans, and how she knew it was all going to end in tears and; “why do you have to do these things, why can’t you just have little quiet wedding in Llanelli,”,<\/em> and how much time effort and pain she was expending to be there, she came.<\/p>\n

So why is this section called \u201cCoronation Street\u201d? Simple, if you live as restricted and parochial a life as some of my family do, and your only contact with current social mores is Coronation Street <\/a>or Eastenders<\/a>, or Pobl Y Cwm,<\/a> then you star to believe that that is the way people actually interact, and behave yourself accordingly. Any normal, happy or unhappy, family event or social intercourse has\u00a0to be turned into a full on melodrama, or it\u2019s not real. Make you think eh? (The Archers<\/a> is of course exempted from this, as it\u2019s really, totally and utterly, true to life. Apart from Kate Madikane that is,<\/a> who, if real wouldn\u2019t be able to walk into any pub without total strangers punching her in the face hard.)<\/p>\n

The wedding is in August, I have 5 months more of this to get through, Lord have mercy on my soul. Oh, thanks for the invite Jemms, sorry I cannot be there. (No, honestly, I am!)<\/p>\n

ETA:<\/strong> If anyone breathes a word of this rant to\u00a0Cynthia\/Mam, I’ll fucking garotte them<\/span>!<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

Work<\/strong><\/p>\n

One of my little girls at work, a lovely young lass, who is prodromal psychotic, made a stand the other day, and wrote a protest on the ladies toilet wall. Fair play for standing up for herself, but rather\u00a0daft to initial it, so we knew who had written it.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Talking of the works bogs, (this blog is full of interesting stuff is it not?) the other day I went into the men\u2019s, for a “quiet sit down,\u201d <\/em>only to find a workman was halfway through a job in there. But, luckily, he had sodded off somewhere else at that moment. I took the opportunity for five minutes peace and quiet in there. Though, on leaving, I couldn\u2019t help thinking the plumber\u00a0wouldn\u2019t be thanking me for my visit when he returned.<\/p>\n

Conversation with a social worker..<\/p>\n

Her:<\/strong> \u201cOh you\u2019re Welsh are you (after guessing Scottish, Irish and Dutch,) can you say that place with the long name?\u201d<\/em><\/span>
\nMe:<\/strong> \u201cLlanfairpwll etc\u201d<\/em><\/span>
\nHer:<\/strong> \u201cThat\u2019s amazing, it\u2019s such a shame the language died out.\u201d<\/em><\/span>
\nMe:<\/strong> \u201cIt hasn\u2019t\u201d<\/em><\/span>
\nHer:<\/strong> \u201cYes it has, I read about is somewhere.\u201d<\/em><\/span>
\nMe:<\/strong> \u201cIt hasn\u2019t, it\u2019s spoken by 20% of the Welsh population, and is taught in schools.\u201d<\/em><\/span>
\nHer:<\/strong> \u201cYes, but no one speaks it as their main language, do they?\u201d<\/em><\/span>
\nMe:<\/strong> \u201c20% of the population of Wales speak it, many as their first language, there is a Welsh language TV station.\u201d<\/em><\/span>
\nHer:<\/strong> \u201cOh, maybe it\u2019s Irish I read about.\u201d<\/em><\/span>
\nMe:<\/strong> \u201cThat\u2019s still going strong too.\u201d<\/em><\/span>
\nHer:<\/strong> \u201cScottish?\u201d<\/em><\/span>
\nMe:<\/strong> \u201cStill spoken but not as much as the other two.\u201d<\/em><\/span>
\nHer:<\/strong> \u201cYou\u2019re making this up aren\u2019t you?\u2019<\/em><\/span>
\nMe:<\/strong> \u201cI\u2019m making this up!?!?\u201d<\/em><\/span>
\nHer:<\/strong> \u201cWell one of them is dead and not spoken anymore.\u201d<\/em><\/span>
\nMe:<\/strong> \u201cYou choose.\u201d<\/em><\/span>
\nHer:<\/strong> \u201cI\u2019m sure I read about it somewhere.\u201d<\/em><\/span>
\nMe:<\/strong> \u201cIdiot’s monthly?\u201d<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

Gigs<\/strong><\/p>\n

We saw Billy Connolly, at the local exhibition centre. As fate would have it I was also rostered on an evening shift that day, but was owed a couple of\u00a0hours so skived off at 7.00 pm. What can I say? The old boy still has it, though age and illness are starting to take their toll. He came on, and, within two lines, had the audience rolling in the isles. He used his Alzheimer\u2019s and prostate cancer as kicking off points for diatribes, (he has to use notes these days,) which was brave, and a good way of dealing with the impact of them.<\/p>\n

His best line about his illnesses was not one of his own. \u201cMicheal Gambon gave me some good advice. He told me that when I\u2019m acting, and the shakes and tremors start to kick in,\u201d<\/em> (shows his arm doing the Parkensonian tremor that he now gets,) \u201dto stick my hand in my pocket. Just remember to put it in your jacket pocket not your trouser pocket, he said.\u201d <\/em><\/p>\n

He did a full hour and a half, (used to do a full two hours,) and no encore. But fair play to the man, he\u2019s a legend and still holds you entranced. I was so impressed I bought a souvenir tea towel.<\/p>\n

I went to see The Sixteen,<\/a> brilliant gig. There were 18 of them for some reason.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

They ranged from a lovely young blonde girl of about 19 yrs, extremely nice posh totty, to a lady who must have seen some 80 summers or more. One female alto was wearing a tux, as opposed to the evening dress all the other females were wearing, so may have come in on the other bus. Harry Christopher himself was fucking fantastic to watch, coaxing and urging the best out of the vocalists.<\/p>\n

About half the program was music by Palestrina<\/a>, (Palestrina’s greatest hits?) who I\u2019ve long collected. There\u2019s no such thing as \u201ctoo much Palestrina,\u201d<\/em> I\u2019ve since decided. Though their renditions were beautiful, I still preferred the Palestrina stuff I heard sung by Kings College Choir. They also did some stuff by the Scottish composer James MacMillan<\/a>, someone I\u2019d not come across before, but will now start to collect. (James MacMillan was born the same year as me.) The only disappointment for me was that it was all polyphony, no plainsong.<\/p>\n

We\u2019ve got tickets to see Dylan Moran on his next tour, he\u2019s the only stand up who can give Billy C a run for his money in my honest opinion.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

We see Ross Noble this month, expect a review.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

We also got tickets to see \u201cLe Noir\u201d;<\/p>\n

\"\"
\nThe cirque extravaganza that has taken the world by storm finally comes to Canberra. Enter the captivating world of LE NOIR – The Dark Side of Cirque, an extraordinary evening of intimate cirque style entertainment starring some of the most incredible acrobatic acts on earth. Carefully engineered with the deliberate intention of making the audience part of the entertainment offering a 360 degree spectacular view of the stage. 24 of the very best performers from all four corners of the globe, many of them formerly from Cirque du Soleil, are the centrepiece of this production.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMelding of physics, physique and psyche is what makes us marvel\u201d The Courier Mail, Brisbane<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cJaw-dropping feats of athletic skill and precision\u2026 Impossibly breathtaking\u201d Stage Whispers<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSurreal, beautiful, seductive and at times hilariously risqu\u00e9*.\u201d Time Out Singapore<\/span><\/p>\n