Scientists now believe that carrots DO help you see in the dark, probably because carrots themselves can actually seein the dark when they are underground.
Do you worry about what you read in the newspaper?
Do you worry who is watching you when you are out shopping?
So you should, it is all true, so why not just turn to the puzzle pages…
…and get even more fraught,
or you could relax by counting plastic.
Bored with shopping, your favourite shops closing down? Go and play the piano instead.
And on a lighter note, not a piano note, wildlife experts are worried about the demise of the common rat, which may not be as common as previously thought. Householders and gardeners can help by providing the environment that rats need and also putting out food for them.
It slipped out of my hands and onto the tiled floor, silver splinters slithered in all directions. I was devastated, in its frozen state it had cracked, my favourite. I closed the freezer door, my plastic box collection was dwindling rapidly.
I posted a picture with a sad emoji on our Facebook page Post Plastic. Comments were mixed.
‘First World problems, I wish I had any left overs to put in the freezer.’
‘Why don’t you try those waxed cloth wraps, they are a life saver.’
‘But not much good for a litre of homemade soup’ I retorted.
‘Just make what you need.’
‘I am trying to save gas by batch cooking.’
Later I was battling to get the children ready for the shopping expedition.
‘Kids, have you all got your containers?’
They grumbled all the way up the road, especially when they saw the long queues outside ‘Weigh and Save’ and ‘Tap and Top Up’.
‘Muum, why can’t we have shower gel?’
‘Nothing wrong with a bar of soap, we haven’t got enough containers for non essentials.’
There was a cry of horror from one of the vats, it looked like a battle scene, someone had dropped their glass jug of tomato sauce, a luxury most of us were doing without. My neighbour joined us in the queue.
‘How are you getting on with the milkman?’
‘We’re 759th on the waiting list.’
‘I hate to say it, but my mother was right, I should have registered with a milkman months ago, at the time he seemed too expensive. Now even the loyal customers are being rationed, so Mum can’t get a spare bottle for us.’
The total ban on plastic had repercussions most of us had not imagined. There was a chronic shortage of glass bottles and jars as they were requisitioned and a shortage of milk as cows had to be milked by hand, or so we were told. I had no idea how milking parlours worked or why they needed plastic.
‘What are you getting Robby for his birthday?’
‘Edible Lego and tin soldiers.’
‘It’s a nightmare at the hospital, I dropped a glass syringe and it shattered. I was not popular. Such a shortage they are talking about reusing them.’
‘Tell me about it. I went to blood donors, the only stuff I can afford to give away and the nurse dropped the bottle, blood and broken glass everywhere and my precious fluids wasted. ‘
‘Are you going to wickerwork this evening?’
‘You bet, I’ve got to get that shopping basket finished before my last carrier bag disintegrates.’
‘Oh, here’s Carrie, did you hear about her poor mother?’
‘Carrie, so sorry to hear about your Mum, was it a shock?’
‘It was rather, but a blessing in a way, I’ll inherit her Tupperware collection.’
This blackbird does not like being on the outside and has been tapping on the door, tapping on our windows and kamikaze diving windows. He either identifies as human or has been watching too many science fiction films.
This cow also has an identity crisis; unsure whether she is an Appaloosa or a human having a pyjama day. The dairy farmer is worried she may be offended if he tries to milk her.
Scientists have released pictures of what it is actually like living in the fifth dimension...
…and have warned members of the public not to try this at home.
And finally in breakfast news a surprising hit. Slow Radio slots have become popular as calming moments of bird song or rowing boats. The latest is a continuous live broadcast 24/7 from a quiet little road somewhere. The location remains secret to protect the inhabitants, human and otherwise. Listeners have been tuning in to hear everyday sounds of hum drum life, dogs barking, people chatting. In the dark watches of the night insomniacs and night workers say there is still plenty to hear, the haunting cry of foxes and the whisper of the milkman’s float.
As residents fetch their bins in on Monday morning there is plenty to hear so let’s drop in.
I found your food bin in the middle of the road.
Oh thanks, did you hear the wind last night?
Yes, my lid blew open, cardboard and paper all over next door’s lawn.
There’s a nurse going in over the road, she was there yesterday.
Is it him or her?
Goodness knows, haven’t seen either of them for ages.
You never know what’s going on with that high hedge.
Do you mind taking a parcel for next door?
Sure, certainly won’t fit through the letterbox ha ha.
I’m not carrying your scooter Dryden, I’ve got the buggy to push, you wanted to ride it to school. BRANDON, stop at the corner. BRAANDON WAAIT. Dryden get on that scooter and catch up with your brother.
Yes of course, I’m not using it today, still not fixed then?
Not coming till Friday now and I‘ve got to get their PE things washed, thanks so much.
Those strange people are across the road again. I call them the creepy couple, coming this way since lockdown. At first I thought they were trying to steal Truffles when I saw them squatting down poking their hands through the fence.
Pity they didn’t steal him, we would have been saved all that barking.
He ran straight in my house the other day, nearly caught the cat.
Aren’t your daffodils looking good.
Yes, despite being battered by the wind and rain.
So what do you want at the greengrocers today?
Some of those grapes as long as they don’t have pips, one banana, not too big, not green, but not too ripe. Can you manage potatoes a well… oh look he’s on the roof again.
I don’t believe it, she must be away, surely she wouldn’t let him, what if the ladder blows down while he’s up there.
I reckon you’re right, he is rebuilding that chimney stack.
How old do you reckon he is?
Well he was retired when we moved here.
I can’t see him, hope he didn’t fall down the other side…
Truffles, Truffles, come here at once… sorry, sorry, are you okay?
I can’t talk now, I’m out in the street, no it isn’t a good time, how did you get my number anyway?
Truffles, come out of the lady’s nice garden. Sorry, sorry, yes I can see what he’s done I’ll just pop home and get a bag to clear it up, once I’ve caught him…
Oh here he is coming round to the front, he must have a ladder at the back as well. Was that Truffles running by?
The producer of Slow Street 24 is in the studio with us. Why do you think this has become so popular?
People need a break from their frantic lives, they just love to hear from somewhere where nothing is happening.
And do the residents mind being recorded, doesn’t that mean they are guarded in what they say?
Not at all, they don’t know they are being live streamed.
Yes it’s here again. Less stressful than the no plastics challenge, this is a way of counting how much plastic packaging is being produced, started by a chap who saved his plastic waste for a year, was shocked and created an art work with his collection.
This morning was recycling bin collection, we have alternate weeks for Big Bin and the Small Bin for rubbish we can’t recycle or compost. Into Big Bin goes glass, paper, tins, plastics… except soft plastic. But not to worry, our local Co Op stores have a bin for soft plastic, clean dry soft plastic. What an opportunity for dedicated obsessive recyclers, carefully washing out the film they peeled off the fish package… There is also a little brown bin for all food waste, but we are not counting that!
The count is for every piece of plastic, whether thrown away or carefully recycled. I did this last year so I was ready for action, but what category is the tiny tube that the flower food came in with the Mothering Sunday roses?
Has anyone else joined in this or done a similar thing or do you think it’s a load of rubbish?
If you don’t follow Royal stories you might view the following thoughts as rubbish, or perhaps like many of us you can’t resist a good medical tale.
Amidst the awful things going on in the world there has been fraught discussion about the health of the Princess of Wales, coming along at the same time as King Charles’ medical story. Catherine went in for planned abdominal surgery and had a long stay in hospital followed by resting at home. Like all good husbands the Prince of Wales took time off to look after her when she returned home. Nothing was disclosed about what her condition might be, except it is not cancer. Who would want their insides discussed endlessly in public, or their children hearing their mother’s medical history discussed?
On Woman’s Hour this morning the presenter said she was not interested in knowing. Really? Lots of us are, but don’t go blabbing on social media, just may have chatted in private with our friends or sisters who happen to be doctors! Just harmless wondering… Anyone who has been in and out of hospital in a day or two will naturally wonder what could possibly take such a long recovery. Perhaps we want to check if it’s a condition we haven’t heard of, but need to worry about. Women the same age or with daughters in that age group could be concerned…
Now the medical story has been turned into a ridiculous frenzy because of the digital altering conspiracy. The pleasant family photo taken by Prince William for Mothering Sunday may not be ‘true’, though today Catherine admitted that she did a bit of digital altering, like millions of people do with their cameras and smart phones.
WARNING, THIS MAY NOT BE A GENUINE PICTURE OF THE ROYAL FAMILY
Doctors are warning of a health crisis amongst teddy bears. ‘Too many teddies sit around all day being cuddly and are not getting enough exercise.’ Bobby’s Gym is offering cheap membership for the Texercise programme and bears are welcome to bring their therapy humans along.
An artist has come up with an innovative scheme to help dogs who are unable to read street signs and numbers. He will paint a picture of your dog on your house so your faithful companion will know where he lives.
Scientists have identified the two greatest dangers in the home.
A local writer was thrilled with an unexpected win this week. She wishes to remain anonymous, but was quoted as saying she needs time to think about what she should do with her win.
A local council has come up with an idea to shorten the waiting times for magistrates court. Only the most serious offenders will be summoned to appear in court, while others will be put in the stocks.
And on a sunnier note there is a chance for beach lovers to snap up a bargain.
‘Phillip, come in here quick, your mother’s on the television.’
‘A police spokesman said if it were not for the quick thinking of grandmother Abigail Morgan the incident could have become a tragedy.’
‘I just happened to glance out of my kitchen window last night before I went to watch the news and I noticed an altercation across the road. When I saw a man take a pair of ballet shoes and then a huge hammer from the boot of his car, I knew I must call the police.’
‘Were you worried they would arrive too late?’
‘I wasn’t sure if they would arrive at all, so I rushed outside.’
‘I don’t believe it, I knew we shouldn’t have let Mother live there.’
‘Phillip, it wasn’t up to you, she’s quite capable of making her own decisions, though she must be regretting her choice now.’
‘She had better stay with us until we can get that place sold. I’ll ring Oakdene and see if that flat is still available.’
‘I’m sure she won’t want to stay with us… oh shoosh , they’re talking to some of her weird neighbours.’
‘There’s always trouble around here since they opened that half way house.’
‘We’ve never had anything like this before, it’s a lovely quiet road, lots of families.’
‘There is a lot of confusion as to what actually happened here last night and why the arrested man was bizarrely waving a pair of ballet shoes in one hand and a sledge hammer in the other. Neighbours have spoken of seeing the white car parked regularly in this road, but nobody could name him. Police reassured locals that this was an isolated incident with no danger to the public. A local dog walker did not see what happened, but knows the Supergran well.’
‘I always walk this way to the park and have a chat with Abigail. I can’t believe she tackled a mad axeman alone.’
‘Ah, a police inspector is about to address the crowd of concerned neighbours.’
‘Police response was prompt last night and officers bravely disarmed a man in his early forties.’
‘They only caught him because that old lady had already squirted pepper spray in his eyes.’
‘Yeah and it’s the first time in twenty years I’ve seen police down this road.’
‘The arrested man is in hospital under police guard with eye injuries believed to be caused by a domestic cleaning product. He is not known to police and does not appear to have any mental health issues. I would ask that members of the public do not speculate on social media about what happened.’
Abigail made yet another cup of tea. After a second formal police interview she was looking forward to a more relaxed chat with a young woman reporter and a cameraman. She had tried to keep her answers to the police confined to the stark facts, but would have loved to be outside with the other neighbours speculating further. Abigail had been awake most of the night, sitting up in bed with her iPad and phone, following and contributing to the local Facebook page and WhatsApp group.
‘I believe you refused medical treatment last night Mrs Morgan?’
‘Of course, nothing wrong with me. Though I feel I’m under arrest, a police woman stayed here all night, don’t know what they thought was going to happen.’
‘You don’t have any family nearby?’
‘Oh yes, my son and daughter-in-law on the other side of town. I moved here to be nearer them.’
‘They must have been concerned about what happened.’
‘I didn’t bother to tell them and everyone here has been very nice.’
‘Would it be too upsetting for you to tell us what happened?’
‘No not at all. I don’t know the couple across the road or the man with the white car. I do know most of the neighbours well. I can’t imagine why he threw a pair of ballet shoes at her, but then it got scary when he approached the husband with that huge hammer.’
‘Then what happened?’
‘I just grabbed a bottle from under the sink, not sure what it was, forensics have taken it away. I saw that on a TV drama once.’
Abigail watched with satisfaction as the camera kept rolling.
‘I must apologise for the awful wallpaper, I haven’t been here long, I want to redecorate this room. I always notice the wallpaper when they interview people in their homes…’
She heard a familiar voice at the front door and hoped the police officer on guard would keep everyone out till her interview was finished.
‘…I’m Phillip Morgan her son, why wasn’t I informed, I found out from the television.’
‘Sorry sir, I believe Mrs Morgan said there were no relatives she needed to contact.’
Phillip walked into the tiny lounge as soon as the cameraman walked out and gave him the all clear.
‘Don’t think you’ll get a word in edgeways.’
‘Oh Phillip, there was no need to come over. This is Felicity Wordsmith, have you seen her on the local news? We’re just having a debriefing, off the record. I’m giving her a few tips so she can do one of those investigative reports. One of the neighbours said on Facebook last night that the wife used to be a ballet dancer, so looks like the boyfriend also was a dancer, a famous couple perhaps until she went off to dance with someone else. You and Sandra go to the ballet, do you think you might have seen them?’
‘Mother, the police have told neighbours not to spec…’
‘Felicity thinks White Car Man is the real husband and came to claim her back from the chap she ran away with.’
‘No, no I was just posing that as a possibility to show we have no grounds to make any suppositions…’
‘All the more reason for us to seek out the truth.’
Abigail scrolled down the screen impatiently, then she spotted it, her dream flat. She wrote down the details in her notebook in case it vanished off the screen, she had heard how properties could be snapped up quickly, on sale one moment, gone the next. But she had no idea how to book a viewing if the estate agent was on line with no office to visit or human to phone. Luckily Phillip would be round soon.
‘Character ground floor apartment in lively area, would suit first time buyer. Hardly the sort of thing you want Mother, I’ve booked viewings for several ideal places, but … there we are booked, viewing tomorrow afternoon after the others. We can always cancel if you find one more suitable.’
‘Certainly not, I have a good feeling about this place.’
‘Okay, but you need to be sure, we don’t want to go through all this again.’
‘You mean this is to be my final home?’
‘No, I mean…’
‘I hope it will be, the alternatives would be far worse.’
Soon after lunch the next day Phillip pulled up outside huge gates.
‘Is this a prison?’
‘No of course not, it’s an up market gated community for the eld… people who want to enjoy their retirement.’
‘Not my idea of enjoyment.’
‘It’s got nice gardens and a fountain…’
‘Drive on.’
He handed her a leaflet about the next destination. A smug, sun tanned, fit, mature couple beamed out at her. Oak Dene, luxury apartments for the young at heart and Acorn Grove for those who need that little bit of extra support. On the estate we have a sports hall and community complex.
‘Hmp, bet that couple wouldn’t dream of setting foot in there and nor would I.’
‘Don’t dismiss it out of hand, lots of company and there’s a bus stop outside to get to our place.’
Abigail looked at her watch. ‘We need to get to my place next, I don’t want another buyer turning up before me.’
Phillip’s frown grew deeper as the Satnav led him down a rundown shopping street then through a maze of small roads.
‘Nearly there… a primary school round the corner, you won’t want to be living in this area.’
‘I love the sound of children in the playground.’
‘But not all the time.’
‘Same town as you and Sandra, isn’t that the plan?’
‘But this is the wrong side of town.’
‘Looks fine to me and lots of interesting little shops.’
‘What on earth would you want with a tattoo parlour and a vape shop?’
When they reached their destination they were both confused.
‘Busy road, can’t see 32B, unless it’s that weird construction that looks like it’s been squeezed in as an afterthought.’
‘Yes, it is, come on, squeeze into that parking space, is that the agent, didn’t look like that when your father and I were house hunting.’
‘Good afternoon, um who is the property for?’
‘Me of course, I hope it’s as good inside as the pictures on your flashy website.’
‘Even better’ the young man flashed a set of white teeth.
‘We have lots of other places to look at’ said Phillip.
The agent ushered them into the tiny hall with a flourish.
‘Kitchen at the front, kitchen sink under the window, you won’t want that Mother.’
‘It’s perfect.’
‘But it’s too small, not even room for a dishwasher.’
‘I won’t need one, I’m not planning on having visitors for dinner.’
The agent smiled. ‘And the guest bedroom is also at the front.’
‘You could not fit a bed in here.’
‘I don’t need to, this is my office, or will be hopefully, how many other buyers have looked?’
‘A lot.’
‘Oh dear, how many offers?’
‘None.’
‘Not surprised’ sniffed Phillip.
‘Now to the main bedroom and lounge which both have French doors out onto the bijou garden.’
‘Oh it’s perfect, south facing as well.’
‘Facing a school by the look and sound of it.’
‘Yes, just a little primary school, but there is a good fence and when that tree is in leaf it will muffle the sound.’
‘Sorry, we won’t waste your time any more, this is totally un..’
‘Perfectly suitable, I’ll be in touch very soon with my offer.’
‘We’ll discuss it and get back to you, come on Mother.’
Back in the car Phillip said ‘Don’t be disappointed, we have plenty more we can look at.’
‘I don’t need to, this is the one.’
‘But that school, balls coming over the fence.’
‘I’ll throw them back again.’
Abigail stood at her kitchen sink looking out at all the toing and froing. Next door was herding her children out the front door, late for school as usual. She had confided to Abigail that the nearer they lived to a school the harder it was to get there on time.
That white car was there again, number 32 told her it was always there when the husband was away. The chap from round the corner waved as he walked by with his dog. She would have quite liked another dog, but not enough room in this little dolls’ house and there was enough entertainment from all the local dogs. Mike across the road was rushing out to recapture his springer spaniel. Perhaps he would have called him something else if he had known how often he would be yelling Bubbles. Whoops, near miss for Bubbles with that teenager on one of those E-scooter things.
Time to get ready for the library coffee morning. Abigail wondered what fascinating characters would turn up today, it was the antidote to that dreary ladies’ club she had belonged to for so long, she had only gone to have a break from Charles after he retired.
That evening Phillip and Sandra popped round for an inspection under the guise of taking her out for dinner. They came bearing plastic boxes of leftovers, or home made ready meals as they preferred to call then, with the excuse they weren’t yet used to cooking smaller amounts since the twins went off to university.
Sandra was peering over the kitchen sink,
‘Oh, there’s a strange man staring in.’
‘That’s Josh, not long out of prison, staying in the halfway house round the corner, nice chap.’
Later that evening Abigail waved goodbye to her son and daughter-in-law with relief. She had enjoyed the meal and people watching, though of course the local Wetherspoon was hardly Phillip and Sandra’s sort of place. No dishes to wash, but she enjoyed looking out of the window before it was time to settle down to watch the news.
Strange, that white car was drawing up and the husband’s car was at home. Now the wife was emerging, carefully closing the front door behind her. Abiail opened the window a little, for fresh air, not to hear what the wife was saying, shouting almost.
‘I told you to stay away, tonight of all nights, just go.’
Oh dear, it looked like he had no intention of going.
The front door flew open and the husband sprang out. He was shouting, but she couldn’t grasp the words. Now the other man was getting something out of the boot of the white car. It looked like, surely not…
Abigail wished she was shut safely in her lounge with the television turned up, oblivious to what was going on. But she wasn’t and there did not seem to be anybody else around. Nobody in the road, no house lights switching on. For the first time in her life Abigail pressed 999 on her phone.
Times and Tides of a Beachwriter 