I know I’ve said it before, but: yet again… I’ve been away, I’ve been working. But now I’m back: I need to know that you’re still there, and I need to know that you still care. And so, in the week that Mr Fray made his return to social media after a year-long hiatus, I too managed to stop marking and moderating for an evening or two and share an update on what’s been happening in the present author’s life.
The title of this piece is a little tongue-in-cheek – you see, not that that much really happened in April – but was itself inspired by a recipe shared by Sophia Loren via Rachel Roddy and refers to Petrosinella, a Neapolitan Rapunzel-style fairy tale (about a girl named after parsley) from an anthology with a hilarious translated title… look it up!
It could also kind of refer to some of the people whose paths I crossed this month, but more of that later.
First up: conjobbling. Susie Dent introduced me to this lovely word last month; it means ‘to get together for a gossip, usually over a bite to eat’ which is exactly what we did with my family. It was fantastic to see them again. Even if a black labrador did interrupt our picnic lunch by stealing a sandwich and licking the apples! As a thank you for introducing me to the term, I bought myself her new book. The month also brought with it lots of vacillation – another new word that the I newspaper taught me – and a dose of vaccination, but I’m not one of those so will leave that there so as to keep things in good taste.
Of course, this year I’m basing my monthly musings on the seminal Neil Sedaka classic, Calendar Girl, which contains the lovely lyric, “you’re the Easter bunny when you smile” and we had a nice Easter weekend, then it was also our wedding anniversary, so we had a grand day out in Southport (where it all happened) and enjoyed reminiscing. I even had an Easter egg made of Blacksticks Blue, one of the cheeses on our wedding cheese cake…
All this in the middle of a holiday during which work commenced on the house and we did very little other than learn to ride big bikes, build a trampoline (damaged my neck muscles, but it was worth it) and went for a walk past Richarlison’s house to see his dogs…
The kids also insisted we spend an afternoon doing a litter pick on Crosby beach, which yielded two bag fulls of rubbish and the flotsam and jetsam of early summer life there. Presumably this was groups of teens enjoying themselves after the stresses of the past year, and readying themselves for the assessments to come. It all made me think back to my own teenage years, the halcyon days of 1996, and foods that were popular then but had been forgotten about… but now seem to have made a comeback, via Iceland.
It’s been great introducing the kids to some of the flavours of my own childhood, but also to go back in time.
In terms of that period a quarter of a century ago, it also made me think particularly about the music thereof. I’m talking: Trainspotting soundtracks, evocative to this day; Sleeper gigs at the now re-named Sugar House, where a friend fell into a fire door; A Maximum High by Shed Seven, the background music to many a Friday night out, and then 1977 by Ash and that hidden track. All of these and more have been filling up my Apple Music library as I think back to my own GCSEs as I’ve been marking others’. Of course, it’s not all twenty five years old, however. I’ve also got into The Snuts and The Sherlocks to prove I’m still down with the kids… this was great timing, as I was feeling pretty old around this time as the gout kicked in again, causing severe pain at times and making me wish I was sixteen again, back when such notions would have been incredible.
1996 was also the summer of love in terms of Euro ‘96, and we look forward to another feast of football as we approach the upcoming tournament. Whilst I’m looking forward to the credits and the re-runs of the highlights packages, I’m refusing to collect the stickers (on the grounds that they now cost NINETY PENCE a packet, or 86p if you buy them in Home Bargain! I blame the ESL…) and have generally had enough of crowdless matches. There’s not been much to discuss in terms of footy – despite what some would have you believe – but when retweeting others’ views of the situation, and possible repercussions (therefore concurring) and subsequently voicing my opinions of the ESL, was faced with mundane diatribes and accused of self-importance, highlighting the irony of the whole situation perfectly.
Inspector Goole was so right… and so was Brian Labone.
Poor Karius, that’s all I can say on the matter.
Going back to childhood, I had an interesting discussion regarding Hedgehog Crisps because of something funny that happened on the way home one evening and we noticed a poorly hedgehog hiding at the edge of the church garden. My inner vet mode kicked in and we brought it home, fed and watered it and hoped for the best. It was a great feeling to see the thing perk up and wander around the shrubbery; even more so to see the delight in young eyes at their first view of such a creature up close, and the knowledge they had done a very good thing in caring for it so.
Needless to say, it couldn’t be saved. We buried it the following afternoon, happy that we’d done our best and given the poor thing a happier last few hours than it might have had had we left it where it was. They say, ‘never work with animals and children’ but I think this experience was the exception to the rule.
Anyway, the month ended with a surprise birthday party for Pooh Bear, a new home for the hamsters and a fascinating hour spent in the company of Carlo. We weren’t able to watch much this month, what with not having a TV, so this was the best viewing by far… of course, I know exactly where he lives, I’ve seen him driving around the village in his Black Badge Cullinan a couple of times now, and swooned secretly… the annual University of Liverpool Lucrezia Zaina lecture (thanks to her legacy – I attended another equally engaging example by John Foot a few years back) was full of insight, anecdotes and admiration – both his off this part of the world, and also my own for him: not just his career but his demeanour and, above all, class.
He told some great stories… it really was a tale of tales.
I’ll be back in touch again in a couple of weeks with what happened during the rest of the month…