The Rev Jack's Diary
Created | Updated Nov 4, 2004
Chapter 2 - Part One
It's all been a bit much this fortnight because of the power cuts in the village. I have been unable to write an article till now, all due to a tractor, a drunk driver and the weather. The rain has been the worst for years this week. Everything has been shrinking and sodden. The dogs (GOD BLESs'UM) won't go out into the back garden and the end of year things that needs to be done aren't getting done. I should have been burning the garden waste and pruning the trees but it's been too wet. I've even had to retire from the shed and into my room inside the house to where I'm pushed back into my family's loving bosom. I just want to run away with my dogs (GOD BLESS'UM) but I'm a little to old for the circus although my missus could pass for the bearded lady and earn a few coins too!
And the rain is still falling outside. Through the window I can see a hedgehog legging it into the shed and who can blame him! I just hope he's on his own; a quiet nap till next year with not a sound from the wife and kids to upset him. Not got a Christmas to worry about either. No in-laws to upset his Christmas by eating your food and drinking your wine even though it gives them heartburn and they don't 'drink it at home'. Sat there watching The Great Escape or Goldfinger on the TV. A small sherry left over from the dinner staring at you, daring you to drink it, knowing all the time that, if you do you're going to be really ill and end up on Boxing Day staying in bed and hearing the family row going on downstairs. It brings a tear to my eye. Such is the pleasure that's in store for me this year as I have just been informed that the misuses mum is coming for Christmas. Even the dogs (GODS BLESS'UM) have taken to their bed in disgust and dread!
I'll take time out here to mention that she is the most wonderful person you are ever likely to meet, ever! Just remember to check your dental fillings after she leaves - and your wallet too. I cannot stress just how much I can't stand this woman, she makes my life hell. Here are the reasons; she has the best conversational skills I have ever had the pleasure to know, her dress sense is impeccable, she is witty, clever, good looking and, for around 60 years old, makes everyone else look old! So she is to come for Christmas and this is only weeks away!
'She can have the front bedroom.' says my missus.
'Whatever you think is best.' I say.
'Of course the room needs to be aired and the mattress on the bed turned over too.' she carries on to say.
'I'll do it this afternoon after I come back from walking the dogs (GOD BLESS'UM).' I say
'I'm holding you to it.' she says.
The conversation ends there so I grab the dogs (GOD BLESS'UM) and head out into the rain for a walk. My head is still trying to recover from the information that the mother-in-law is coming for Christmas. I turn right out of the gate and don't even notice that the dogs (GOD BLESS'UM) have turned around and are heading back to the house. I reach the road and look for the dogs (GOD BLESS'UM) and find they're not with me. The rain, which has been a steady drizzle, suddenly turns into a downpour; at least they have the good sense to be indoors. By the time I get back to the house the rain has stopped but has left me with rainwater running out of my coat sleeves and down the back of my legs into my wellies filling them up. I'm soaked through again!
'You're back quick from the walk.' she says as I towel down myself and the dogs (GOD BLESS'UM).
'Yeah, I was rained upon, lots.' I grump. She smiles at me which makes everything all right again. The phone rings and I answer it.
'Hello? Oh, it's you. (slight pause) It's your mother on the phone.' I shout.
I hand the phone over to my missus and hide in my room with the dogs (GOD BLESS'UM) in front the fire to drive out the damp. One hour later I hear my missus get off the phone and stomp her way to my room and open it with a kick. She is fizzing like a bad firework.
'Ok, what is it?' I say knowing that I'm not to have any peace this day!
'She has informed me that the funeral I went to the other week, of cousin Ann, has a reading of a will and I'm mentioned in it. So we're to go shopping this afternoon.' she says.
'Cripes' I say. 'This gets worst by the minute' I think to myself.
So an hour passes with not a word from my missus. It's 11.00am and we're having tea and toast in the kitchen. The weather has turned again into a grey and angry day. The back door opens and in walks Sandra (aka the trout) - not a hair out of place, not even wet (I swear she has a pact with the devil, she just too perfect.)
'Hello dears.' she says as she sets herself down at the table and, from nowhere, a cup of hot tea is placed in front of her. I leave to go back into my room to start this entry for my diary - hiding!
'We're off now! See you later on!' I hear my missus say and the door clicks shut. A wave of relief enters me and I get up to make some tea. I let the dogs (GOD BLESS'UM) into the back garden. I have at least 3 hours of bliss!
Slam goes the back door. Stomp, stomp, crash; something goes into the sink. I leave my room for the kitchen. The missus is in a state and not too happy with her mother. Apparently - and this is according to her own mother - my missus has reached a time in every woman's life when she needs to wear foundation garments, which now live in the sink since my missus threw them in there. I don't say anything as I have learned a long time ago, no matter what you say it's always wrong.
'Fancy a cup of tea?' I say, trying not to do anything to start her off again. I remove the offending articles from the sink and fill the kettle with water.
'Do you want to see the "stuff"...' (that's said with a type of venom best served cold) '... she bought me?' She starts to open the bags with a temper I have never seen. Boy is she angry! 'The Stuff' her mother bought her is being thrown all over the kitchen.
'LOOK!' she says waving a 'thingy' at me.
'Sorry, I don't know what it is.' I say.
'IT'S A F*****G GIRDLE, NOT JUST A GIRDLE BUT A F******G LONG LINE LONG LEG PANTY GIRDLE WITH BONES. AND DO YOU KNOW WHAT THEY ARE LIKE TO WEAR? SHE HAD ME WEAR ONE FOR CAROL'S WEDDING AND YOU KNOW WHAT SORT OF MOOD I WAS IN THERE THEN! OOOOHHH Wait till she turns up.' she says.
I look around and only then notice that we are alone. No mother! I place a cup of tea in front of my missus and tell her to sit down. I look out of the window and the rain, which had kept off, starts again so I'm not to escape this. I'm stuck in the house!
'But you did look nice at that wedding.' I say which turned out to be the wrong thing again!
'And do you know what the worst thing about this is?' she says.
'Sorry but no.' I say.
'She's got the right size for me.' she says. And now the mistake she has been waiting for - I say the most stupidest thing that a man could ever say.
'Well, that's nice isn't it? Your mum knows your clothes size.' As these words fall out of my mouth I know I am sliding into deep dodos but do you think I could stop myself?
'Drink your tea before it goes cold and what's this girdle for?' I say before I could sort of clarify myself.
'IT'S SOMETHING THAT I DON'T NEED, OR WANT, AND IF MY MOTHER THINKS THAT I'M GOING TO WEAR THIS, I'LL RAM IT SOMEWHERE WHERE THE SUN DON'T SHINE!' she shouts. I pull my hair back onto my head.
'Right, then, I see. But it looks small for you anyway.' I say.
'It's supposed to be small as it's supposed to hold you in and give you shape which, I hasten to add and before you say anything, I DON'T NEED, DO I!' she says through her teeth!
'I think you are fine just the way you are, dear.' I say.
'FINE.' she says and storms off somewhere else in the house! I start to pick up the things and place them on the table.
The back door opens and in walks the Trout.
'Ahh I see she's back home then!' she says and then follows on to say 'I thought she might be angry over this, but she has to be dressed a certain way for the reading of the will and the only way is to use these.'
I look at her.
'Have a look on the solicitors letter.' She offers the letter to me and a quick glance tells me that I was glad not to be on the list.
'Ok, I see the dress thingy and has she seen this letter?' I enquire.
'Of course. I sent it to her the other week.' she says.
'When? Because we have had to collect the mail from the post office for two weeks now and I haven't seen anything like this!' I say.
'Ahh, this might be the cause of the problem!' she says and we go off to show the letter to my missus who is sitting in the back bedroom with the dogs (GOD BLESS'UM). After the 'Just what do you want?' and showing the letter to her she calms down a little just enough to say
'NO!'.
We return to the kitchen and I put the kettle back on for a cuppa. It's still raining, blowing a gale outside, and the dogs (GOD BLESS'UM) move into the front room to the fire that's in there!
'She's not coming round is she?' said the trout.
'I think not. She was more than a little upset.' I say.
'But it's only for one day. A few hours and who knows what is in that will! Have a word when she calms down eh!' says the trout.
'No, I won't say anything. It's up to her. She's big enough and ugly enough to say what she wants to do and I'll back her in this!' I say.
My missus enters the kitchen and just looks at me and says 'Ugly?'
'Well I was making a point to your mother but it sort of fitted because you were acting a bit like a teenager back there.' I say.
'Well, yeah, and where's my cuppa?' she says.
'Ok tinker, I'll make you one.' I say. And the silence starts...
I'll be finishing this next week.
Rev Jack
