Bunty Takes Sanctuary at the Manor

EVERYONE'S HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS 

   Genuine excitement this morning. Cook has won Radio 2 Pop Master. 

She phones in every morning but has never been successful…until today that is. 

Stubbins and I listened in the breakfast room while she spoke to Ken Bruce on her mobile, in the kitchen. She told him that she enjoys Formula 1 and macramé. I knew about the motor racing but never had her down as a craft person.

She did terribly well and seems to know about ‘everything pop’ from Chubby Checker to Justin Timberlake. Her bonus subject, the colour purple, was a gift. She says it’s her lucky colour and always had a bit of a pash on Prince, although he didn’t come up.

It was touch and go against a worthy opponent from Sheffield but in the end 24 points was enough. 

The 3 in 10… Hits for Shalimar stumped her and she only got 2. ‘Over and Over’ and ‘Dancing in the Sheets.' I’d never heard of either, but they won her a blue tooth speaker.

I did wonder if she might have preferred the One Year Out T-shirt, but she seemed content with her prize.

To celebrate, we invited her to join us for a drink before luncheon. Crichton had some Babycham in the cocktail cabinet and she was thrilled.

   ‘That’s the necktie of the Gods that is, madam,’ she said emptying her glass in one and holding out for a refill.

   Jerome arrived on the 1.30 train and Arraminta went to fetch him from the station. They don’t speak much to one another but always seem to understand what the other is thinking. That's the thing with twins. It was quite like old times. 
There’s no further word about Hilary so maybe they have had a tiff. I do hope not. Jerome deserves to be happy. I have been very careful to bite my tongue and not to say the wrong thing. 

The post brought a package for Arraminta from her new friend Candida Bellmarsh. Her brother Graham is a fireman, and  he and his chums at the station have made a calendar…it seems a bit premature, but apparently you must get these things done way ahead of time in order to beat the Christmas rush. They are all posing with their shirts off …not much protection against the flames, but attractive for all that. Graham is Mr July, and slouches, rather too provocatively I thought, with his trousers very low slung and pointing his hose at the camera. There may have been a certain amount of airbrushing, as I believe poor Graham suffers with acne, but you’d never know. Mr November has his jacket undone to reveal very impressive six-pack. He has a parakeet on his shoulder. Arraminta’s favourite is March and I’m inclined to agree with her.  He is cradling a kitten against his rippling muscles and has his fireman’s helmet pulled down at a rakish angle. I gather he is called Bradley McGrew. 

I feel we may hear more of him.

   I really didn’t fancy having Rev Colin wash my feet and Crichton refused point blank to come to the Maundy Thursday service with me, so we enjoyed a quiet evening en famille. Good to be we four again. 

   Hot crossed buns for breakfast of course on Good Friday. We shall have to endure Waitrose ones as Cook’s dough went flat in mid prove. It’s my belief that she was distracted by that calendar, but I wouldn’t embarrass her by saying so. 

Crichton Comments

   The women folk are obsessed with a calendar of half-dressed firemen. I caught Alyona flipping through the pages when she was meant to be ironing my shirts. 

There’s something not quite right about it all.

Jerome and I escaped for a pint together in the Plump Pig at lunch time. He seems to be enjoying his course work and has joined the Footlights Review. A load of old rubbish if you ask me, but no sillier than some of the things we got up to in our day. He still has no plans for the future. I suggested he could do worse than join me and Alexander at Trehorlicks & Waffler, when he finishes his degree. He turned me down without a second thought…in fact, he just snorted and said he’d rather be a fireman! Cheeky blighter! Property speculation has funded his lifestyle for the last 19 years and I didn’t hear any complaints. 

But I don’t see him as a fire fighter somehow…