Despite his success, Baz is just an ordinary chap who enjoys popping out to the shops. We join him on an everyday trip.
Baz says he enjoys healthy eating and visiting local shops with their friendly staff. He is looking forward to creating a blog series on cooking and hopes to compete on television baking programmes.
Tomorrow Baz introduces us to some of his literary friends.
He’s back! Yes, having just realised lockdowns are over Baz wants to reconnect with other bloggers and hopes to get more than one follower this time. In a series of exclusive interviews and blog shares I find out, or try to find out, what Baz has been doing since 2020.
‘Hello Baz, the last time I spoke to you we heard you were working on your second novel Panzombic.’
‘Yes I have just finished it so I thought I better do some blogs to publicise it. You can buy it on Amazon for £25.’
‘Is that the hardback?’
‘No, the Kindle version, paperback £50, hardback £100. It does have 853, 231 words, so you will get your money’s worth.’
‘In 2020 you were hoping to start a new series of blogs about your garden, Baz’s Blooms.’
‘Yes, that is the blog I am sharing today, I have done a lot of work on my garden during lockdown.’
BAZ’S BLOOMS
‘Thanks Baz, I’m sure many gardeners will be inspired by your garden and we can also see you have plenty of leisure interests.’ Enjoy further blogs from Baz soon including his good food guide, shopping hints and his take on Thursday Doors.
Karly King was not looking forward to her ninth birthday, too many presents and a big party at the local bowling alley. She didn’t even like bowling and everyone would be watching as she sent the glittering pink junior bowl straight into the gutter.
Everyone was up, she could hear her brothers fighting already and Dad was yelling Breakfast Readeee. Karly wondered what concoction he had come up with today; he was having a vegan phase, ever conscious of the need for new challenges. Her mother was exempt from the vegan menus as she was pregnant.
Breakfast in pyjamas as it was her birthday, new pyjamas chosen to look good in the photos. Her parents had gone completely over the top as usual and the big family kitchen was adorned with number nine balloons and Happy Birthday Girls banners everywhere. Why did she have to share her birthday, how she longed to be an only child. Out of habit she put on her video face and smiled.
‘Last one down as usual Karly, just like when you were born. Happy Birthday Darling, our little miracle.’
The breakfast was quite nice. Karly smiled to herself as she spotted the flattened ‘Happy Earth Breakfast’ delivery box peeking out of the recycling bin.
‘Lovely breakfast Daddy.’
She would not give the game away, everything in her family must appear real and of course HAPPY.
At school other children envied her family, either wanting to be best friends or teasing them mercilessly. Karly only had one real friend, shy little Betty who lived in a pokey flat with her abandoned mother. She loved visiting Betty as she was treated like a normal child and neither mother nor daughter asked her how the rest of her family were. Betty was too scared to go round to Karly’s house and Karly guessed her protective mother would not let her anyway. The rest of the family did not even know Betty existed, everyone assuming Karly was with one of the others if they noticed she wasn’t at home.
At the breakfast table everyone was debating who would do best at the bowling alley. They had all been practising so they would look good on the day. Her sisters were arguing as to who was going to wear which colour to the party. Identical outfits, lurid leggings and jazzy tops with matching patterns, but each a different colour scheme, had been made by their personal designer. If Karly ever tried to complain about the family lifestyle she would be reminded it was their living and how envious other girls were and how Karly would not like being poor.
It was not easy being a sextuplet, especially in the middle of a huge family whose lives had been documented since before the girls were born, with a few changes of television channel along the way. Six Children Plus Six More had been a big hit, with viewers fascinated how parents who already had six children had found themselves expecting sextuplets. Then before interest could wain, twin boys were on the way. The six girls were Mrs Knight’s only caesarean delivery; quintuplets had been expected, but Karly had been found lurking at the back, the tiniest of the bunch and not expected to live, adding gravitas to the series.
Mr and Mrs Knight gazed lovingly at their huge family, they did love all their children, even if they couldn’t remember their names. It was not easy competing with all the other Big Family documentaries, Twenty Two Children and Counting, Twins Every Time, Tripple Tripple Trouble and Conjoined, The Family That Sticks Together. So it seemed natural to keep having more babies and thinking up more domestic dramas. It was unfortunate that the new headmaster at the primary school had banned cameras; rather hypocritical as the production company had given a lot of books, musical instruments and other extra curricular items to the school. But at least the first programme in series ten would have the annual drama of the birthday party, the Hollywood Bowl taken over completely by the family with two guests for each child. Excitement on the lanes would be followed by the ‘Fantastic Feast’ then over to the park for the girls’ birthday surprise, a pony each.
‘One large rucksack containing the following;
One set of six keys, one bottle of water, one diary, one iPhone.
One yellow purse containing one note each of the following denominations – £20, £10, £5 and £7.23 in change, one Visa debit card in the name of Lottie Lincoln, six assorted membership cards, an assortment of coffee shop reward cards, one book of second class stamps with one stamp remaining and ten business style cards in the name of Lottie Lincoln, author.
One makeup bag with assorted toiletries, one facemask, one box of plasters, one packet of Ibuprofen, one large notebook, two pens, one large beach pebble, one copy of Big Issue magazine, one Mars bar and one tied plastic bag containing unknown substance.’
At this point Lottie could not resist interrupting.
‘That bag only contains plastic bags, you know, for the recycling bin at the Co Op.’
‘If you say so Madam, but I am not permitted to open it here, it will have to go to the lab for analysis.’
‘Well not just bags, any soft plastic, like those bits you peel off the food containers, you have to wash them of course, especially if it was fish…’
‘Can we just get on, I’m sure you don’t want to be detained any longer than necessary… one carry tray containing six plants…’
‘Primulas, someone was selling them from their front garden, just before I went down to the beach…. And why am I being detained, I only came out for a breath of fresh air and a newspaper, I certainly did not expect this.’
‘Do you often pop out to buy a paper with a heavy rucksack equipped for an expedition?’
‘Hardly that, you should see what I take on a proper expedition. No, I just like to be prepared. So why have I been arrested?’
‘Why were you taking photographs in a restricted area?’
‘Oh, was that sign for real, how exciting, I wondered why that part of the beach was fenced off. I’m new in the area. I was just taking photos for my blog, Literally Lottie.’
‘And how long have you belonged to the activist group?’
‘What activist group… oh you mean all those lovely people with the Save Our Seas posters? I had only just met them when you lot turned up. I can’t see what they have done wrong and certainly you have nothing to charge me with.’
‘Yes I do. Under the Coastal Protection Act 1949, the removal of any natural material such as sand and pebbles from public beaches in the UK is illegal.’
Welcome to the 2222 British Isles literary study cruise. We will soon be passing by the tiny islands of St Catherine’s, Boscombe, Pokesdown, Hengistbury and of course our destination Southbourne. If the seas stay calm we will be landing for our visit to the National Trust property, the newly restored Tidalscribe House. Has anyone actually been on land before? No I thought not, make sure you take your land nausea tablets as soon as we get the berthing go ahead and before you leave the lecture theatre.
The twenty third century has brought many exciting discoveries, not least of which was the decoding of ‘The Internet’ which turned out to be real, not a myth at all, with the discovery of more historic documents than we could have dreamed of. For students of literature, just as exciting was the unearthing of the ‘voices’ of the early twenty first century when people still lived on land. At last it has been proved that far from ambling mindlessly towards global disaster, vast numbers of ordinary citizens were intercommunicating with the rest of the world and trying to counteract the ignorance of bumbling world leaders.
A lot of citizens wrote what they called ‘blogs’ and ‘websites’. As well as exchanging information they had a highly developed culture of writing, often issuing books on primitive hand held electronic devices.
Today’s lecture is about an author who has not come down to us through history, but was discovered by sheer accident. When at last in recent years a select group of scientists and academics were allowed on land, they chose an island that seemed to have largely escaped the destructive storms of the twenty first and twenty second centuries. The 2029 forced emergency evacuation of the then south coast left houses as if the owners had just stepped out. In one of the houses was found a vast collection of paper books apparently all written by Janet Gogerty. Just as our ancestors did, the scientists tried an internet search and discovered Janet Gogerty had a website called Tidalscribe. She had written thousands of blogs as well as ‘publishing’ many novels and short story collections. If her writing is to be believed, her life and times were much stranger than we have imagined, but her novel Three Ages of Man is uncannily accurate in describing ‘the future’, our life and times. This is the book you will be studying in detail on your degree course.
When we enter the house you will see the author’s book collection in hermetically sealed cases, but the National Trust has preserved the house as close as possible to the way it was left. On her desk sits the antique computer, beside it a half full cup of what is believed to have been coffee, not a banned substance then. Also handwritten notes on paper, faded and barely legible in a strange script, which leads us to wonder if they were intended to be transcribed as her next book or were some mystery message to the future. We will never know what happened to her after she left her home, was she one of the minority that survived?
It is that time of year when Bournemouth council, or more accurately BCP Council now ( Bournemouth, Christchurch and Poole ) tells us by how much our beach hut rent has gone up, with various explanations as to why. We were on the waiting list for six years and I guess most beach hut people will pay up rather than lose the six foot by six foot piece of concrete they rent. It’s best not to calculate the cost per minute of sitting in the sun, making a cup of tea or having your own private changing room. There are people who go every day, but most of us have other things to do, places to go and gardens looking accusingly at us. I had not visited since last year, though I have walked past to make sure it was still there. The council does not own our huts and how ever much we have paid, the hut is worth nothing if you can’t unlock it. Weather and salty air play havoc with padlocks, whether they have keys or a combination lock and pulling the shackle out can be as impossible as pulling Excalibur from the stone if you are not the future King Arthur.
Luckily I brought WD 40 from home. I have never known what WD 40 is actually made of, but I love the scent and apparently WD and duct tape are all you need to solve most DIY problems. There is a can of WD 40 in the beach hut, but that is not much use if you can’t get in… I used a lot of WD 40 and had to resort to going away to wash half a can of it off my hands then sneaking back, when the second padlock wasn’t looking, to open it.
When you walk down here it feels like being on holiday.
When you see your patch of sea you know it was worth the money and the struggles with the padlocks.
As the padlocks soak up WD 40 and you soak up the winter sun and eat your sandwiches you know it was worth it.
Then after two bites of your sandwich the weather changes, your tea gets cold and you wonder if your friends will regret saying they would ‘pop in’ for a cup of tea. This is why you keep blankets at the beach hut…
…but the sun will probably come out again before it goes down.
It’s my third birthday tomorrow. I don’t know why I suddenly had to come and stay with Granny or where Mummy and Daddy have gone. Maybe they went to buy my birthday present, maybe they have gone to get my puppy. I really want a puppy like Jacob has, a Doodle puppy. I keep asking, but Mummy and Daddy just smile and ask me if I would like a brother to play with instead. I said no, I would rather have a puppy.
Will they be back in time for my birthday?
Granny’s taking me home. We stopped at the petrol station to buy flowers for Mummy. I don’t know why, it’s not her birthday.
Daddy opens the door with his smiley face on.
‘Guess what Luke, we have a really big surprise for your birthday.’
Hurrah, I’m going to get a puppy, a big puppy like Jacob’s. I rush into the living room. Mummy’s lying on the sofa in her dressing gown, maybe we’re having a pyjama day, but I’ve got my clothes on, Granny never lets me have pyjama days. The puppy must be in the garden.
‘Happy birthday darling, aren’t you going to come and give me a cuddle?
Granny’s peering into a big flowery bag next to the sofa. She has a silly grin on her face.
‘Don’t you want to see your birthday surprise Luke’ says Mummy.
‘Is it a Doodle puppy?’
‘Why don’t you have a look.’
Daddy, Granny and Mummy all have their arms round me, I nearly fall into the bag.
Inside is a blanket, is the puppy wrapped up? There is something pink, a round pink blobby thing. It’s a squidgy face, yuk…
‘It’s your new baby brother.’
WHAT! They said would I like a brother to play with, they didn’t say he would be a baby.
‘Have I got a puppy as well?’
‘No Darling, we’ll all be too busy looking after the baby to have a puppy yet. Perhaps when you’re both big boys.’
‘I am a big boy, you said I would be a big boy when I’m three.’
‘Do you want to help choose his name’ says Daddy.
‘No, he doesn’t need a name yet.’
The squidgy baby is making a noise, ow, my ears. Everyone is laughing except me and making a big fuss as if crying is clever. What is Mummy doing now?
‘Look, Mummy’s giving baby his breakfast.’
What sort of breakfast is that, wouldn’t he rather have Cheerios. I wonder if I’m going to get any other presents, like Lego. I wonder if Jacob would swap. Perhaps his mummy would like a baby and we could have his puppy.
Grandma’s Big Ate O WhatsApp group
Anyone heard from Josh?
Am I booking the house?
Yes, all agreed on the date, Gma’s actual bday?
No, that’s when we’re in Portugal.
If I’m doing photo book send me nice pix of Xmas with smiling kids.
No, haven’t heard from Josh.
And smiling adults.
But not the one with Lucy unwrapping sex toys!!!
Sending pic with everyone round the table.
Oh I look awful. Don’t use.
I am not even in it, was in the kitchen… all day.
Who took pic of baby on Great Gma’s lap?
Josh I think.
Have we heard from him yet?
Send the link to this place pls.
Did, four days ago, ‘The Greenhouse….’
All glass?
Not that sort, environmentally friendly, green roof, grey water tanks, straw walls.
Hope a wolf doesn’t come along…
Oh that sounds excellent, get some ideas for our self build.
Y’re not still on about that?
Yes, can’t wait to tell everyone…
If we’re only there for a few days, doesn’t matter what it’s made of.
Thought we were booking for a week.
We can only do four nights, ballet and horse riding.
I want a week and so does Mum, it is her birthday treat.
Who’s working out the cost share?
Josh.
Anyone heard from him?
Thought Gma was paying for it.
Did you get another date for your operation Tam?
No, but let’s get on with booking.
Did they decide where your Danny was on the spectrum?
Not yet.
Are you bringing the dogs?
Yes.
And their containers?
Crates, yes.
What about the little ones?
We could put them in the crates ha ha…
We need four more to book the air rifles.
Do they do archery at that place?
Yup and human hamster balls.
What do they do for great grannies?
Garden shop and tea room.
Baz’s girlfriend is allergic.
To plants?
No, dogs.
Tyson won’t eat my baby will he?
Might do, ha ha, certainly won’t realise your handbag fur ball is also a dog.
Fur baby, fur balls are what cats have.
Did we decide whether to get Gma another cat?
Josh was looking into rescue cats, anyone heard from him yet?
Haven’t you lot got beds to go to. Let’s finish sorting this tomorrow if we hear from Josh.
Okay, but who’s taking Gma?
No room in our car.
We’re coming on the train.
We’re bringing the van.
I’m in the opposite direction, thought Josh was bringing her.
Has Josh been in touch with anyone?
Finally the day has arrived, twenty one at last and I am going to have a big party. All the family are coming of course and some of my best friends, not all of them alas. Covid wreaked havoc with our social lives, but now it’s 2024 I think we have put that behind us. Of course the planet is still hovering on the brink of disaster, but hey let’s forget about that for one day, I’m going to have breakfast and open all my cards.
We’re having the do at that new hotel, very posh and a nice place to stay for those who have travelled. Dinner and dancing after, but informal as there will be lots of children. I wanted everyone to come and the visitors will span a century, can you believe that. The newest baby has been named Daphne after the amazing aunt who has just notched up one hundred years.
Here I am then, ready to greet all the guests. What nobody knows yet is that Charles and I are going to announce our engagement tonight, that will be a surprise for quite a few guests; all part of the excitement, life doesn’t get much better than this.
That meal was wonderful and now I must make my little speech before we release the children to let off steam.
‘Thank you everyone for joining me to celebrate my twenty first, it’s so wonderful to see everyone together after those Covid years and to be here with five generations of my family. I do have a little surprise for you. We have not known each other very long but Charles and I have decided to get engaged and we plan to have the wedding very soon, we don’t want to wait as he is ninety one. But Charles wants to add a few words… ‘
‘Well I never thought I would be getting married again, especially to a girl of twenty one, but that is the advantage of courting a young lady who was born in a leap year, 29th February 1940. How many great grandchildren we have between us we have lost count, but it’s wonderful to see both our families here. Here’s to the future.’
I thought we would wait in a much grander room than this, nothing to inspire my new stand up routine. But what a selection of odd bods here for the audition, plenty of material there. A few gals and chaps I recognize from the circuit, the third division circuit, ha ha. Hmm… some well known people from television, surely not as desperate as me for the job. I am banking on them choosing an unknown so He can’t be accused of favouritism or worse if they pick someone the press can dig up the dirt on.
Would you believe it, he’s certainly come dressed for the part, wonder who designs his dresses, looks like a cross between a wedding cake and a fifties party dress. Must be a wig with all those ringlets. I’ll tell you who’s not wearing a wig… Himself has just walked in, has he no pride, you would think he could comb his hair for once, better still have a hair cut; but come to think of it, he’s just right for this job and he should have some cracking politician jokes. But if they are looking for an all rounder I bet he can’t sing or play an instrument. That’s what I’m counting on and He does love music, though I’m not sure He’ll be keen on my harmonica, ukulele probably more up his street.
Wonder if we just present our routine or they tell us what they want. That’s what it would have been like in the old days…
‘Pray sing me something soothing, have you perchance a new ballade?’
If they didn’t like the melody it would be off to the tower… new topical jokes every day, not easy when you had to wait for a ship to sail in and a messenger on horseback. Much easier now with social media, but have to be quick off the mark with a fresh joke that hasn’t already been made by those political commentators on the news. Speaking of which, look who’s come in the room; he doesn’t need the job, unless he’s expecting to be sacked by the BBC. I suppose he would at least know where to draw the line, not like some of the stand ups. Politics, modern art, avoid family life…
Ah ha, that smart chap has returned with his clip board, still got a face like a wet Sunday. Then so have all the people in this room, like they are afraid to smile or crack a joke till they get in there.
Hell, he’s beckoning me to be first and look who’s giving me a thumbs up, patronising bastard, no doubt confident he’s going to get the job. Well it’s not over till it’s over, maybe I’ll throw in a few jokes about the other applicants to be Jester at the Court of King Charles the Third.
Times and Tides of a Beachwriter 