With Just A Single Thought

I've been away for a weekend of chillin’n’chattin’ with Middlesister.

Last night I asked Fester

“Did Thunderthighs do as I asked, take the hoover into the loft and get all the dust out from behind his bed?”

“Yes he took it up but it’s stopped working.    

We think the bag is full.  There’s a red light come on.”

“So you didn’t think to change the bag?  Or work out how to change the bag?”

“Oh no.”

“Three minds with just a single thought: ‘She’ll do it.’”

“Two minds; Ferretfingers wasn’t involved.”

 

St Roch

St Roch on Salisbury Cathedral

Many years ago I spent a summer working as a kitchen assistant for PGL AdventureHolidays at their camp in the Ardeche.  On Sundays I would go to Mass at the church in Vagnas, and noticed the different saints they had on view.

British Catholic churches usually have 

St Patrick, or in Wales St David, as well as popular ones such as my mother’s favourite St Anthony of Padua, and of course The Blessed Virgin Mary and the Sacred Heart.

When the Coven met in Salisbury last March (2023) we naturally visited the cathedral; I really wanted to see the font again as I find it quite magical and moving.  We also spent some time in the refectory and gift shop, and then stood for quite a while looking at all the saints depicted on the West façade.  Being good Catholic girls, some even educated by nuns, we were able to identify quite a few.

Then the most middle-class English thing I’ve ever experienced happened.

A shortish, tweed suit and trilby clad gentleman stopped and started pointing out saints to us, both ancient and modern.

“... there’s St Cecilia with her organ” he said.

“And St Roch with his dog” I added.

“Who?”

“St Roch.  Him there in the kilt with his leg out and his dog looking up it.   

He’s quite popular in the southern parts of France.”

“Oh … I’ve never noticed him before … 

I shall have to look him up … Do enjoy the rest of your visit ladies” and with that he tipped his trilby to us and departed.

A few weeks later I was in the bookshop of Newcastle's Catholic cathedral looking for something enlightening for Middlesister and came across the display of little plastic cards with sayings, poems, prayers and saints on them.  There were five laminated 

St Roch prayer cards.  Something I’d never seen before.  However as one of his special areas is plague and pestilence maybe he’s been invoked more often in recent years.   

I bought them all and handed them to everyone at the next Coven (Leicester, that's a saga for another day!).

We were staying at the Premier Inn.

Mrs Fitz said “I wonder …” and popped the card into the little holder by the door that you put your key-card in to work the lights.

It worked, the lights stayed on.

Very handy if there is only one key to the door, two people and one needs to stay in the room while the other goes out.

Yesterday morning I received this message from Dr E who has been travelling abroad.

St Roch has been up the Rhine from Amsterdam to Basel.  He is about to fly to London and then IW.  His is an enlightening ministry!

 

Murderous Intent

Mrs Eft and I have known each other since our first days at Newcastle University when we both lived in Easton Hall of residence for ladies.

Our fathers were born within days of each other; her parents were Navy, mine RAF.

She spent most of her career working for the police in a civilian capacity.

Sunday’s blog (Oh No Not Again) brought forth these emails:-

Re: Ben’s blogged

On 21/04/2024 17:20 BST Mrs Eft < > wrote:

Oh, poor Fester. I've said it before, but he really is a delicate little hot-house plant, isn't he?

However....

a) Is he naturally accident-prone, or do you think he does it on purpose, for sympathy?

b) I thought he got the nose from you twatting him over something or other.

Re: Ben’s blogged

On 22/04/2024 08:09 BST Bentonbag, < > wrote:

Not guilty m'lud

He had that nose before I met him.

Photo taken Summer '79 for brochure printed Summer '80.

First met him Christmas 79

Re: Ben's blogged

On 22/04/2024 08:53 BST Mrs Eft < > wrote

Hmmm! OK, I'll let you off. Its a plausible excuse. X

And Tuesday’s (So Many Things) this missive:

Re: Ben’s blogged

On 23/04/2024 08:19 BST Mrs Eft < > wrote:

“I blame an impatient fat-fingered bastard hitting the wrong key several times...”

C'mon, Ben!  You must have twatted him at some point, even if you didn't cause the nose job.

Our relationship has always been like this.

A few years ago I wrote in http://bentonbag.blogspot.com/2018/01/another-chateau-midden-morning.html

“The problem is Fester turns the radio on as soon as he’s awake enough to move.  

He then goes back to sleep, snoring so that I can neither sleep nor follow what’s being said on the radio.  I’ve been complaining about this for almost 25 years; and shall quote it as mitigating circumstances in the manslaughter trial.”

 

Which elicited this email

The only way you'll get charged with manslaughter is if you give him a hefty shove at the top of the stairs, he falls arse over tip and breaks his neck, then you weep non-stop all through the 999 call AND the entire interview process, saying you'd both been pratting about, you'd only given him a slight push out of the way, he'd overbalanced etc etc and you are devastated (sob, sob, sob).

That might, just MIGHT, do it.  Otherwise it's a murder charge and you have to convince the jury.

Oh, and make sure the boys are out of the house or asleep.

Mrs Eft xx

I responded

This is why I love you

and why I shall never call you as a character witness

xxx

Her reply

Very wise.

 

So Many Things

Happy St George's Day

From Facebook Archives

23 April 2023 at 09.39

The ironing basket is completely empty!

The sun is out so today I may start sorting out the garage (or at least bits of it)

At 15.18

It took a while but, with Thunderthighs' help, I have sorted out the plant pots into square, round, stacked by size, ones I want to keep and those I want to give away.

At 15.44

Yesterday morning Fester complained that the bedroom telly wasn't working, there was just a blue screen.

"It's the ariel" says he twisting it with no joy.

Then 

"It must be the weather...there's been some funny weather recently."

I forbore to point out that if it was either of the above there would be some sort of picture, however fuzzy and intermittent, not a blue screen with a "No signal" message moving around on it.

So when he'd got up I went and checked the ariel and its connections; all properly shoved in.

There is an on/off rocker power switch under the telly and a standby knob at the bottom of a row of little knobs on the side of the telly.

I turned it off and on again, pressed the standby knob and tried the one immediately above it.

A menu came up listing "Freeview, analogue" and other sources.

The tv had been turned to analogue, which was turned off years ago.

So I pressed the little knob until the tick was by Freeview and - surprise surprise - the telly is working perfectly.

He blames a cat.

I blame an impatient fat-fingered bastard hitting the wrong knob several times.

Ms Exlibris  So many things I want to say to this....

Bentonbag  I know.  Sometimes it's like being an old fashioned typewriter when you hit too many keys too quickly and they all jam up against each other.  I appreciate this simile will mean very little to anyone under the age of forty.