The Rev Jack's Diary
Created | Updated May 7, 2008
Buckets of Blood
The small fact that I'm now completely assed off at all political parties, is well known in the village; also the fact that I've taken down my Union Jack and replaced it with a Jolly Roger was met with some slight amusement; but after the village council met and declared that the flag was 'not in keeping with the general keeping of the village' and sent me a letter saying so, and telling me to remove it from my flag pole or there would be 'repercussions'! I just could not bring myself to respond in the way they would like, so the flag stayed up my pole. I didn't have long to wait for a reply. My, I was proving popular with these people, not just one letter but four, all from the same person, the 'chair' apparently, who I know is a short person with all the charm of a 'drip in the bed' and quite unruly facial hair.
The last letter said: "the committee will be arriving @15.30 on Thursday, also present will be several members of the 'Trust'." It also said a bit about how I was being unreasonable. Good, I thought, it's a good feeling to be unreasonable! Cup of tea, said the missus as I told her of the impending visit, and Be gentle with them were the parting words of wisdom from her lips. I found some nice stem ginger biscuits on the tray with the cuppa, a distraction from the letter of complaint (as if there's any other type of letter nowadays) I was penning to my local Member of Parliament. It's quite interesting just how many innuendos you can get into a letter of this sort without trying too hard...
There you go, that's number 29 out of 45! When there's a knock at the front door, the dogs (God Bless'um) are out of the back door as quick as a flash, and I'm out even quicker to let the person in at the front door before the dogs (God bless 'um) shred some part off!
In, JUST GET IN THE HOUSE, NOW! I say as I open the front door. It's Dave, he's just got back from holiday, far too orange to be suntan, I think, apparently it's the winter sunshine in the Caribbean. Why are the dogs (God Bless'um) so upset? They should know me by now, he said. We have been having unwanted visitors, I said and they need the exercise, too. I show Dave the letters about the flag, and his response is to smile and then say Nothing new there then, and then About right, as the tourist season is about to start, init? Then a cuppa with some more stem ginger biscuits appear, and I say to Dave You won't like the stem ginger biscuits, will you?, but he says Bugger off, they're mine. We sit down, and he starts telling me about his holidays (without pictures) the dogs (God Bless'um) settle down and we're back to the norm.
It's the Thursday, very early in the morning, I can hear my house waking up, the hot water boiler pump, the expansion tank in the roof, expanding, the dogs (God Bless'um) moving and greeting the day as only man and dogs ((God Bless'um) know how to do; my missus still asleep, curled up with all the duvet again. It still amazes me just how she gets all of the duvet. The grey light is turning into a warm spring light, an energy that's needed to wake everything up, so I can cuss when it needs trimming later in the year when it's too hot, but for now, so welcome after the grey of winter. I'm up and out looking for eggs, I have in my pockets 12 so far and that's when I turn and head for the kitchen; breakers is the best meal of the day and one that should not be missed at all cost. When I arrive I can smell the coffee and bacon. How many? she says. 12, but there's more, I'll go back after breakers, and while I feed the pigs I'll have a look for some more, I reply. Good, I'll be needing a few because I'm baking today, she says with a smile. Cake, I'm thinking. What time are they coming? she asks. Not really sure, but they won't miss this appointment, and Don't worry I'll be good, I say, and she replies Good!
They arrive at 11.34 am, parking on the 'drive/front patch of concrete/lawn', so I walk out and ask them really nicely not to park on my property, so at 12.05 they all come back to the front gate to where I'm stood. They seem to want to conduct this enquiry sitting down, in my house, drinking my tea and munching my stem ginger biscuits; this is not allowed, it was bad enough I lost three of the little blighters to Dave, but the thought of my stem gingers going to these people! need I go on...
I think the beautiful spring sunshine and the small fact that my missus is baking (a gentle current of air wafts a smell of baking bread out to us), make the point that we're going to conduct this over my front gate. I point to my flag: What's the problem with my Jolly Roger then? It's a bloody disgrace! says the 'chair' followed by: "This is a respectable village, not some council house estate! My response is tempered: I say! and then Is that so?, loosely followed by So what do you suggest I do about it? At this point the (Trust person) pipes up: As you know we do not own all of the properties in this village, and we can only ask non-Trust property home owners to comply with Trust guidelines, and as we don't own this property and have had dealings of this nature with the Rev Jack before; but he knows that he can only put certain types of flag up his flag pole, this flag is one of the types he can 'run up', so I'm not really sure why the Trust is here. That's nice, it makes a change to the usual line from the Trust. Was it the last time we crossed horns? I say to the Trust person. I open the gate and invite the Trust party in for a cuppa, they earned it. You know where to go, just say to the missus I sent you and if she offers you stem ginger biscuits, remember they're all mine, all three of them. They wander through the gate and off to the kitchen!
The gates swing shut as the 'chair' swings his stumpy little body into gear, Next complaint I say, nothing is the response, they just look at me, so I say: Every year it's something or other, every time we get a new committee there's a jibe, or worse, a small torrent of back-stabbing letters or gossip flying around, so I'm not going to even ask for a letter of apologies because it would not be worth the paper it's written on; but remember this is my own house, not one of the Trust's and I think you lot should have been a little bit better with your research as the flag issue was raised about two years ago, and it was sorted out then, it will be in your minutes because the then committee lost out big time, because they then assumed that I didn't own my house and land, they assumed that the Trust owned it all, they gambled and lost, cost them more than their good face too, it cost them money!
Still nothing from the committee, OK then, I said, I opened the gate and invited them in for a cuppa, we can have another start I said. The woman whom I have never seen before walked through into the garden as did the other bloke but the 'chair' stayed out. Nice I thought, wonder how long he's going to last, as I walked them through and started to show them around. We entered the back room through the French windows, all of the Trust was there, munching my stem gingers. So then, when are you going to leave this house to the Trust?, said one of the Trust people, You can try and pry it from my cold dead hand! I said!
