Oh, My Days!

Good afternoon, everyone! Here we are again. Bit late posting today's episode because I have been thoroughly engaged in my new City and Guilds Embroidery Course. And then I realised it was Sunday and thought, 'There will be ructions if I don't devote some time to 'Clive and Min.' Here we go then, if you are sitting comfortably...?                The two women stared at each other in growing embarrassment as silence pooled around them. Min was embarrassed by the bizarre contents of the room on whose threshold she stood, and Connie by deciding to make this sudden visit to a relative stranger’s home even though the compulsion to do so had been overwhelming.             Min broke the silence. 'I'm sorry,' she said. 'Can I help you?'             Connie's eyes were beginning to drift around the room again, but she snapped them back to focus on Min. Best not to ask, the house whispered, sagely. Crack on with the business in hand.     

Sometimes you have to let ideas roll around your mind for a while - for days sometimes, but often weeks or even months in order to know you’ve made a decision that is right for you. Of course, sometimes ideas can be acted upon within days and turn out fine and dandy. After all, His Lordship Malarkey - Andy - and I decided within 10 days of meeting each other that we would get married and we’ve been together for over 18 years now. Decision made, job done! However, sometimes you have to be prepared to reassess and change your mind about what you believe to be a final decision. You have to do this in order to move forward. It has been almost 7 months since I left teaching for good. When I left my last permanent teaching job, which was 10 months ago, I was certain I was going to train to be a civil celebrant. I researched courses, read books, talked earnestly to people ‘in the know’, and even had a go at helping a friend through a funeral. My, don’t some families argue when someone has d

Good afternoon, dear readers! I've prepared a substantial chapter for you to read today because I've strung you along quite enough and I know you are itching to know the contents of Clive's hobby room. Hold on to your hats...             It was just over a week later that the phone call Min was expecting arrived. Halliwell sat at her feet and stared up her, unblinking, as she listened to Audley Runcorn broach the subject of the fate of Satis House.             'I didn’t hear from you, Min,’ he began, somewhat tentatively. ‘So I thought I’d call anyway, see ‘ow you were doing, like.’             ‘That’s very thoughtful of you, Audley,’ said Min, who’d never had the slightest intention of calling him. ‘But I’m really not ready to talk about this just yet.’ He ploughed on as if he hadn’t heard her, like one of those scam callers who refuse to be deviated from their script. ‘It’s just that, well….the C.O.P.S would like to start making t’most of the bequest

Sunday Story Time again! It's a bit longer today - you might want to settle down with a cuppa and some cake. I would! A month after Clive’s death, Willow Reginald kept her scheduled appointment with Minerva Thing and began to draw up a quotation for the work required to rejuvenate Satis House. Min, meanwhile,   had wasted no time envisaging the changes she wanted and was therefore able to furnish Willow with a comprehensive list of ideas when the young woman presented herself at the front door on a sunny day in July.             'My goodness,' said Willow, scanning the two close-typed sheets of A4 Min handed her on arrival. 'You've been busy.'             'Procrastination is the thief of time,' said Min, whose head had been buzzing with ideas since the funeral two weeks ago. Indeed, she’d had several ideas during the service itself, causing her to focus on the gargoyles in the church roof in order to help her commit them to memory so sh

Today, I... ...met some lovely people ...did some stretching and warm up exercises ...played bongo drums ...told a story using percussion instruments ...danced around a room to calypso music ...sang silly songs ...met some new born piggies ...walked through a field of cows, calves and sheep...and a bull ...stood under some trees, and did some mindful breathing and listening ...enjoyed a relaxed and lengthy lunch break ...worked as a team in a very efficient washing and drying up line ...played dominoes ...drew pictures ...got my new wellies well and truly muddy ...enjoyed the company of a lovely old dog ...drank several mugs of tea ...laughed a lot And for this, I am fortunate to be paid!

Continuing onwards with 'Clive and Min.' the plot thickens, thanks to a persistent Sergeant Phelps and a pantomime themed funeral... Sergeant Phelps was staring at his notebook. He'd written barely a thing when he'd interviewed Miss Minerva Thing. He released a little chuckle. Thing. What a name. Never met a 'Thing' before now. Maybe it was the rarity of the name that drew him to this case. After all, on the surface the circumstances surrounding the death of Clive Thing were very simple. RTC involving a single vehicle. Driver of the vehicle: young and inexperienced but seemingly sensible and safe – a clean licence, observing the speed limit and road conditions with due care and attention, certainly no boy racer type. Weather: clear and clement. Traffic: light and free flowing. Nothing untoward to report here, officer.     On the surface, then, nothing more than an unfortunate accident. But what about the revelation from the pathologist that Clive Thing