The Darling Buds of June (4 page)

Looking for
handsome, ‘dinky bummed’ William Shakespeare!

Yet have to
dodge discarded mucke

There is a
lotte of untidyness here

My mind doth
burn with seething anger

As I step in
something left by a wandering dogge

Its owner wrist
slapped and stocked by authority shouldde be

And made to
carry the stuff, in hand, to the stinking sewer bogge

And there I see
a used hempe sacke

Discarded by a
trader rude

No values or
cares have these ‘common working’ folk

What will
happen in the future, when quicke becommes food

And so I leave
the towne, without kissing slowly a playwright fair

And still see
refuse laying dead in muddy gutter

Glad am I to
return to merry Alcester

Where wrapping
stuff in, the windy trees dost not flutter

***

ROMAN AND
JULIA

A SYNOPSIS ON A
PLAY, BY OUR Gillian.

© Stan
Stashaway.

Apparently
Shakespeare made this masterpiece commercial too, and of course
‘ruined’ it.

The Montalets
and the Capogues arre two local welle to do families. The Capogues
whom arre alwayys atteth ‘it’ hath a daughter called Julia, who
also liketh sexxe while the other has a sonne called Roman, who was
a shyye, secret artistte (his escappe). Shall it be said that the
families gette on notte welle, notteth welle att alle. Even worse
it should be said, that the Montalets are Christian and liketh not
‘that girl’ because of her attemps to introduce their sonne to
sinne. The children, who falleth in lovve have to meet in private
alliance to lovveth each other in bushes at the side of the river
Arrowe, yette it should be stated that Roman, affected by parental
guilt trips, be prepardeth only to cuddle and kiss without tonggue,
much to the displeasure of Julia, who was onllye sane because of
toysse of wood (Lovve be a strangge and compromisingge
thingge).

Both families
do thereforre scrappe, especially after drinking fine ale. The
landlord’s do get angered by this constant bickering and swordplay,
as it ruins pleasures such as ‘prize for mostte correct answers
night’, and musicce and pockerre nights, mentionin notte darts by
localle archers and table skittles. Also, out on the street at
throwing outte time, the fighting disturbes horses, which make them
throw their owners, causing un necessary claimes for compensation
throughe no winne no groats in payment deals. Thisse, couppled with
the amorous daughter, only made the families try and separate the
couple. However, after a warning from the courts, that, if the
families didde not want to resolve issues, longge prisonne
sentences would be doled out until Wintery blizzarde temperaments
were quashed.

The heads of
the families talked with the help of a third party (a psychologist
for Roman’s parents), and hands were shook. Roman and Julia duly
married in a plushe wedding, and alle was goodde for several years,
until she, stille unsatisfiedde (Roman’s conditioning ranne deep)
ran off with a local milkke producer, swapping marriage for the
bliss of churning butter and havingge, amongste other nice
thingges, havingge her teats pulled in the early morning, late
afternoon, and eveningge.

And … just for
you dear reader, an excerpt from the never been seen in yonks,
actual manuscript of …

Roman and
Julia!

By OG!

Set a long time
ago in Stourbridge.

Julia:
Roman, Roman, wherefore art the art that thou dost do?

Roman:
I
left it drying in the barn Julie. How didst thy know I wast a
painter of beautiful scenery? Tis my secret and my escape from this
madde world.

Julia
:
Why Roman my love, thou hast paint all over thy former clean white
shirt. Thou proud yet finicky mother wilst go madde shouldst she
see it, so take it off so I can washe it for thee.

Roman:
But Julia, although we are in the sweetest grasp of lovve unsealed,
I findeth myself a little coy at stripping in front of thee, lest
thou turn round and shutte thine hungry feminine eyes. Tis my
upbringing I thinke, a shrewish religious and prudde mother
thingge, coupled with spouse timid religious father.

Julia:
Hmmm! If I goest first and expose my generous bosom to thee, wilt
thou follow me?

Roman:
Well Julia, ok, butte I am a little nervous scared and guilty, even
though my moutthe dribbles at suche a thoughtte. But what if
someone findeth outte? Whatte if our families findde out? You
knowwe they dontte like each other muchhe anyway, mostly because of
your and your parenttes sinful thoughttes which are
unchristianne.

Julia:
Who can findde outte? I’ll only telle my best friende all details.
And worrye youe notte, it isn’t true what people saye aboutte her.
She is notte the local gossippe. Youre parenttes wilt never
knowwe.

Idyllic local
leaf shadows on an Alcester tree.

To be continued
(?) (although, you could maybe guess what happeneth?)

This is not a
painting by Roman. (It was this or a half-eaten bag of chips to
make you think you were in Stratford, but we don’t like to be
deceptive)
.

***

Month 4

“Hello! Mole
again! Here are the minutes of the latest FAT Bs meeting. As a big
fat ‘development’ cheque has not yet landed on the floor of the
council house, despite our feature on the Stratford litter trail,
we the FAT Bs have decided to take matters into our own hands. One
of our younger members James (44), a joiner, saw a programme the
other night on the documentary channel. James has the town’s only
satellite dish, which we all think very advanced for Alcester (it
was actually on the ‘things to see’ list on our tourist trail for a
while, until someone got a WAP phone and the advanced technology in
a small town game was up).

The programme
was dedicated to ‘wreck’ scuba diving, a very interesting pastime.
We have two problems though, the river isn’t deep enough, and there
are no wrecks in it, only ducks ‘on it’ (sometimes ‘in it’ when
they feed); and even then if we spell them properly in the Queen’s
English, as suggested by Muriel, and call them ‘Decks’, which is
close to ‘wrecks’ it just wouldn’t do.

That proposal
was rejected, although Muriel did receive a round of applause and a
free strip of raffle tickets for being so creative. She actually
won a bottle of wine! A proposal to say ‘well done Muriel! Well
deserved!’ was seconded, and spoken by Chairman Ken. Our meetings
are ‘such good fun!’

A proposal was
then made by Roger (68), who worked on the Aswan Dam. Well, at
least that’s what we think he said, it may have been, ‘Damn! Got
drunk and attacked by a swan?’. He explained to us that sometimes
(all the time!), when a dam is constructed, it’s fun to evacuate
and then flood out beautiful peaceful villages, but not as much fun
as when the evacuation order is somehow ‘overlooked’.

We have a
nearby rather grey and quiet village called Studley (pro:
Studloooy), a bunny hop away up the A435.

We foresee
operation ‘Flood Studloooy’ as being a great success, and after we
have done the necessary work, we will hopefully get funding to buy
a snazzy top of the range mini bus to take tourists who want to
scuba dive and see an authentic ‘underwater’ village in Wakespeare
Country … with ‘real skeletons!’

Real ‘bone’
should add interest, and maybe even attract ghouls, collectors of
gold and jewellery (a temporary attraction, at extra cost), medical
people, and even trainee surgeons who are unsatisfied with glossy
diagrams or rubber people. Of course, there would be a problem with
the flooding of the village, but a proposal by Henry (52), a
gardener, solved this seemingly unsolvable riddle. This idea was so
good, that Lucy (72), donated her raffle prize of a very small box
of Swiss chocolates with chocolate flavouring to Henry, and
Chairman Ken (68), gave another ‘Well done!’ piece of voiced praise
to Him.

He ate the
chocolates straight away, while explaining that ‘if he took them
home, the wife would make him give them to the dog (he loves
chocolate and hates his dog, a black Labrador called … Chocolate
(the irony is, the dog is ‘real’ chocolate). Surely his wife is to
blame and in need of a bollocking and not the dog? We didn’t vote
on this as it remained a thought in my head … much safer there.
Henry’s proposal was this (unanimously passed by the way).

We FAT Bs are
going to buy 15 garden hoses and fifteen sets of overalls (petty
cash limit), and our sewing and tapestry expert is then going to
make fifteen iron on badges, as they would take her ages to sew on.
We, the fifteen, are then off to Studley to door knock, and offer
ourselves out as garden waterers called ‘Hoseban Waterers’, a group
of plant loving rebel horticulturalists who hate hosepipe bans, and
think that plants and grass should have rights, especially in a
heat wave. Then, all we need do is persuade fifteen people to hire
us. Once hired, we explain that we have to work under the cloak of
darkness so as not to be detected by snooping ‘hosepipe ban immune’
Studley officials. The rest is easy.

We leave the
pipes running, and then run to the village outskirts and wait. Hey
presto! At Sun up, we have a lake! If there are any stray bodies
floating around the edge, we will simply take them home, remove any
valuables, and then bury them in the Gillian Wakespeare plot. I
must say, it’s a genius plot.”

HERE LIES OUR
GILLIAN, THE BARDESS OF ALCESTER UPON ARROW. And her husband Stan
Stashaway.

(And a few bods
from Studloooy)
.

… If only we
had a headstone eh?!

***

But Someone
Must Have Blabbed!

“After the
great petty expense of buying hosepipes and overalls, and driving
to Studley, the residents flatly refused to let us use their taps.
Another plan was needed, so, we had our monthly meeting a week
early.

Claude (68),
came up with the bright idea that we’d been wasting our time
anyway, as the special scuba minibus with LCD screens and our own
scuba diving movies playing, in which we hoped to ferry divers, may
break down or something, and then we’d be stuck (it was a pity,
because another Gertie (79), had always wanted to be one of those
bus tour guides with a mic). Mix that with the fact that if we got
caught on the main road with no tax disc, and the driver Linda with
no driving licence, we could attract some really bad publicity, and
lose any chance of a fat grant. This attracted some agreeable nods
of heads and grunts. We needed another plan. Claude then mentioned
Oversley Green, a very nearby money honey pot.

We do sometimes
allow the residents of Oversley Green to walk our streets and shop,
but only under supervision, as being stinking rich and therefore
without a care in the world coupled with lives of non ‘work’,
translates into ‘non excitement.’ Kleptomania is rife amongst the
Oversley Green community as it is amongst the Studley populous
(although it must be said, the folk of Studley are happy with the
cheaper items, such as local handmade produce); it is like a drug
to them. That was it then. We unanimously decided to forget
Studley, and concentrate on Oversley Green. It would serve them
right for having Rolls Royces.

Claude’s Scuba
Lake idea went like this.

We actually
have two rivers. The Arrow, as already mentioned and the Alne,
which joins it. The River Alne meanders almost alongside Oversley
Green, so Claude thought that if we ran a garden hose from the
river to Oversley Green one night, we could siphon the water
through and create our lake like that. ‘Maybe we could use a fire
brigade hose!’ Shouted someone from the back of the room ... which
was a bit silly, but it was noted.

Of course, that
means the jewellery would be much finer on the corpses and in
drawers (nor simply costume jewellery and cheap bling as would have
been the case with Studley), and so we could charge the jewellery
and general treasure collecting divers much more.

This idea won a
free strip of raffle tickets, but on this occasion Claude was not
fortunate enough to win any of the fantastic prizes, which included
a picture frame made from plastic pegs, by Peggy (73). She calls
them Peggy’s Plastic Peg Picture Pframes (silent P), and they are
available in about five different colours (we don’t think anyone in
Oversley Green owns one, but there could be one or two in
Studley).

She calls this
little venture 6p enterprises, but warns anyone interested that 6p
doesn’t mean they cost 6p (just thought that was worth mentioning
in case of confusion). Peggy says that if you buy one (98p) and get
fed up of it (as you may do if you don’t drink alcohol regularly),
just soak it in warm water for a while, which will weaken the flour
and water glue (cleverly coloured to the same colour as the pegs
using food colouring), take the frame apart, and use the pegs to
hang your washing out.