In Good Company: A Year Gone By
Enid Blackburn was in a reminiscing mood when she wrote this coloumn three decades ago.
As we step over the threshold of a brand new unopened New Year, one cannot resist just a tiny glance over the old.
Looking back to the summer that never really arrived, our ladies had a happy bowling season, adding a legacy of laughs to our sporting repertoire. This did not win us any cups of course, but it means we do climb down into a lower division, with a smile on our lips.
On the home front my husband had to break the news ‘Howard has had an accident – don’t panic’ three time last year. Our son is so accident prone, he says when he enters ‘casualty’ the staff all smile in welcome, ‘Hi, Howard, how many this time, lad?’
During the Christmas shopping bustle a ranting granny attacked me. I was just browsing along wondering what I could buy, when this pensioner ambles up to me. Putting on my help the aged expression I wished her the seasonal compliments, whereupon she swings back her arm and deals me a swipe across the neck, which made my eyeballs flutter.
‘Didn’t you retaliate?’ my family wanted to know afterwards. I described the dirty look I gave her as I ran away.
‘That’ll teach her,’ said son, ‘She won’t do it again.’ ‘Poor old thing,’ commented my mother when I showed her my bruises, ‘She must have been off her rocker.’
To anyone wavering in the marriage stakes, keep going for the silver, it is worth it. I would like to thank everyone for the delightful cards, the flowers and the presents. I hope I may be forgiven for saying that the moment that brought the biggest lump to my throat was when our son and four daughters made father and me sit down while they paraded their gifts – a king size quilt, complete with matching cover, sheet and pillowcases. We are so wrapped up in it – time simply has no meaning. And I love husband’s daily announcement, ‘I’ve made the bed, love!’
Yes, it’s lovely, thanks, and so is eating from unchipped crockery, with matching cutlery, drinking coffee served from a silver pot, cooking with straight-bottomed pans and reading the tear-jerking sentiments over and over again.
The biggest surprise came as husband and I were leaving home to join our guests at the party hotel. I was about to lock up when he said ‘Oh you had better take a nightie.’ His way of telling me he had also booked the bridal suite for us. Bet there aren’t many brides who enter the honeymoon portals with their night attire tucked in a plastic supermarket carrier bag!
