Spoon menace

I found a spoon yesterday. A teaspoon to be exact. This may not be much of a ‘stop the press’ kind of announcement, but I thought the fact that this teaspoon was found on the wall outside the front of the cottage warranted a mention. Perhaps it was the same spoon that I espied whilst sitting in the back of the car three days ago? Perhaps it was the spoon that the dish ran away with, and then dropped for a younger, curvier model – who knows? I shall never find out the true reason for its location, as everyone here will deny all knowledge of it, but I am intrigued to know why it was on the wall.

Well readers, I spent Thursday in bed. No, I was not being lazy – I merely felt extremely unwell. Since yesterday though, I have been up and about, suffering from a sore chest and aching joints, but my temperature has returned to within acceptable limits, and I will survive I am sure. I am still trying to catch up with some paperwork and yesterday afternoon I found myself in the position of trying not to scream obscenities at the wall, or indeed, whoever may be in earshot. It is quite simple to explain - my printer was playing up and so was the internet connection, and they both seemed to be vying for the ‘let’s see who can irritate Corinna the most’ prize. For about half an hour they were both level-pegging in the ratings, but the prize went to the internet connection in the end. I frightened the cat at least once by yelling vociferously at the printer, before ripping out yet another piece of chewed up paper. Poor Spider (aka that darn cat) was innocently curled up asleep on the floor under my desk, when a screaming harridan rudely awoke him from his slumbers, as she swooped down upon the printer, with evil intent in her eyes. The expression on his face was priceless as he, probably quite sensibly, leapt from his position and vacated the room rapidly, only stopping to look in my direction once he was safely out of the line of fire.

Here at CFZHQ, things have a habit of getting misplaced. The spoon above is an example in point. Yesterday, it was the turn of Richard’s briefcase. It could be found nowhere. This could well have proved a very disastrous affair for poor Richard as it contained some important documents. Chairs were pulled out, and cupboards were searched - all to no avail. All breathed a sigh of relief though, when it was discovered that the missing article was still in Exeter. I wonder whether the sigh was more to do with its discovery, or more to do with the fact that the only other place to look would have been under the beds – our bed in particular. The dark recesses of the ‘underbed world’ are not particularly nice places to search for lost items at the best of times, but the ‘underbed world’ of Jon’s side of the bed would have been one to approach with extreme caution.

I shall not go into the tawdry details, but will just mention that when bedrooms were switched a few months ago, around ten bin bags were filled to capacity with detritus from beneath the bed frame in Jon’s old room. Many a lost article of cutlery and crockery saw the light of day, along with six lighters, an old sock (especially odd as he never wears any), a cornucopia of food wrappers, and enough empty soft drink bottles to float a battleship. You can understand, perhaps, why the thought of such an expedition would scare even the most intrepid of those at the CFZ.

But back to the briefcase - you may be thinking that Richard must have lost his mind not to have remembered where he had left it in the first place, but in his defence I shall add that it was supposed to have been brought over to Woolsery by car last week, along with t-shirts, Ronan Coghlan and various other bits and pieces, ready for the Weird Weekend. Richard had arrived here a couple of days previously by train so was not to be blamed in the slightest. I am not one to mention names, but there are three drivers at the CFZ, and Jon and I were both here at Woolsery the whole time. Not guilty m’lord.

Shosh returned to Hatfield yesterday after the two week stint of her EMS (extra mural studies) at nearby Holsworthy finished. It has been lovely having her here again and I shall really miss her. Her friend, Aurelia, stayed with us last week whilst on her own EMS, but she left on Sunday after the Weird Weekend. Both the girls, and Gav, helped out a lot at the event and we are very grateful for their assistance.

Dear Aurelia. On the Saturday night of Weird Weekend, whilst we were spending a jolly couple of hours with those who were staying with us at the cottage, the subject of music came up (as it does). The discussion turned, somehow, to Hawkwind and we all groaned when Aurelia enquired quietly and innocently, ‘what is Hawkwind?’ Anyone who knows Graham will also know that Hawkwind are his favourite band – and anyone who has stayed here may well have heard him listening to them at a volume reminiscent of a Live Aid concert, with the accompaniment of glasses rattling in the downstairs cabinet as the bass beats out its thumping groove. Now, after this innocent enquiry you can obviously appreciate that Graham immediately leapt at the chance, and bounded eagerly up the stairs to let Aurelia know exactly ‘what Hawkwind is’. I never did ask Mark whether he was bounced out of his bed that night (he had retired an hour or so earlier).

I think Aurelia will probably say she has heard of absolutely everybody next time, just in case.

Poor Richard is in the wars – a few days before the Weird Weekend we had a panic with one of the tanks in the conservatory. The soft-shelled turtle’s tank split at the top and in the madness that followed trying to stem the flow of water, Richard slipped and twisted his ankle. It took a couple of days, but by the end of the festivities, it was basically back to normal. However, yesterday he twisted the other ankle and now is hobbling around again. On top of that, he has caught Oll’s cold.

Jon and I are going to settle down today to work on Exotic Pets – I have been proofing lots of interesting articles in the last few weeks/days and it is now time to collate them all together and produce the next issue. I think it is going to be a busy afternoon and evening …. again.