Jubilee morning dawned with a fine drizzle and a murky mist which boded ill for the local festivities. After toast and coffee with my son I began the arduous task of resurrecting Pa from his blissful slumbers aware before I began that today it would be difficult, and so it proved.
Intending that Pa and I should attend the street party I had made a day clear of all but the most essential chores and all would have gone well …...except for Pa. Refusing outright to get out of bed was his first ploy and I spent a total of two and a half hours begging pleading cursing and cajoling and all to no avail. Not until eleven thirty was he finally seated at table and ready for his breakfast.
With Pa fed I needed to pick up a few sundries so after washing up I asked Pa to give the table and the counters a wipe and get ready to go out when I returned.....an hour later I struggled in with the shopping and found the table still covered in crumbs and Pa still in his night cloths fast asleep on his bed!
Now I was aware that he had no real interest in attending to the festivities but I had hoped that for my sake he would make the effort,my mistake!
I woke the old rogue none too gently and told him that I would go without him as he could not be bothered and I flung out of the house in high dudgeon (what the hell is a dudgeon anyway?) First I tries our street party but it was obvious from the moment \I arrived that they had not given any thought to the disabled as the pavements were covered with children painting union jacks on the paving stones,and very good they looked. However this meant that there was no assess for my buggy sadly I turned and left.
Remembering that there was another party about a quarter of a mile away I set of hoping for better things and this time all was well. Plenty of room had been left for wheel chair users and mobility scooters and I had such a good time. I brought some mugs,a special one for Pa with trains on it as his old one is chipped ,a gorgeous teapot decorated with chickens, a nice spoon rest and best of all a mug for me with a robin on it.
Returning home I decided to look at a brick a brac stall, there was the usual rubbish but also some jolly good pieces and a couple of dealers were running rings around the boy who was manning the stall. I was pipped at the post on a lovely cabin clock which the cheeky dealer bought for four pounds, it was worth at least fifty and we both knew it. Suddenly my eye lit upon a very dirty picture propped up against the stall,the glass and frame were really filthy but I knew at once what it was.
I picked it up a split second before the dealer spotted it and rubbed a way a little of the dust to be sure, yes it was a limited edition John Pettit print of n aeroplane sighed by both the artist and the pilot. How that dealer cursed as I paid the stall holder eight pounds for it.
This particular print sold for sixty pounds in 1986 and the run was limited to 500 prints, not a bad profit,but more to the point my son adores it which is the real reason I wanted it so badly.
Having graduated in “War History” he is familiar with every man made weapon from the siege tower to the drone and is passionate on the subject, I have often felt that he would be happier in a job which allowed him to use his considerable knowledge in this area for since attaining his degree he has continued his study of the subject and has a library on this subject superior to some academic establishments.
Needing a fast meal tonight and knowing how the boys love cooked meats and cheeses I made a massive salad and served these favourites with fresh granary bread and pate and toast so that even though my son must work tonight we had our own little Jubilee party and toasted H.M in sarsaparilla! Some people have been rather stuffy about the Jubilee but I think that the Queen deserves a party, sixty years is a long time and no matter what you feel about the Monarchy she is all that stands between us and having a Presidency from which
fate the saints preserve us!
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