A funny thing happened on the way to the Forum

[teamsaint]

"Roast Butternut
Squash, Twineham
Grange, Focaccia
5.50"

- Inscription on a Royal Festival Hall restaurant bread roll wrapper.

No, I don't know what most of that means either; but whatever it was, it was worth the price and did taste fantastic!

Made early this morning, by the look of it, so obviously nice and fresh.

[vinteuil]

Made early this morning, by the look of it, so obviously nice and fresh.

... o, I thought it was five and a half inches



.

[teamsaint]

... o, I thought it was five and a half inches



.

Can’t be.

It would be 14 cm, surely ?

[Serial_Apologist]

The following email to the 5-11 November edition of The Big Issue came from a Simon Gates:

Daniel sells at the Upper Norwood Sainsbury's store. We've been chatting for longer than I can remember. I hear about his son Josef and wife Maria and look forward to the news each week.

Today Daniel restored my faith in humanity. His pitch is opposite the cash machine. We were chatting away about stuff when he ran over and took some cash that had been left in the machine by someone. The first port of call was to take it to the shop and hand it over. It was obviously not the first time as he was greeted by a refrain of 'Oh Daniel, they've not left the money again, have they?' It seems this was about the third time he had found money left in the dispenser and without any hesitation handed it in. We talked about it after he had given the cash to the team member at the shop. I'd guess it was about £100 in a mixture of notes.

He'd been subject to some racist abuse from someone a few weeks back but he still stays positive. I am sorry I'd not been there to tell the person what I thought of them. I think we are all better for having Daniel in our neighbourhood.

The Upper Norwood Sainsbury's is my regular shop for groceries in the locality, and Daniel is the guy from whom I get my copy of The Big Issue, whenever he happens to be selling there. I always call him Danny, which seems to be accepted. I would claim the attitude of Simon Gates in his response to hearing of racist abuse directed at someone of eastern European origin selling TBI as pretty typical of folks around these parts - it is one of the many pleasant things about of living in this district - and on reading the above I decided to photocopy the page, just in the unlikelihood that Daniel had not been informed about it. Yesterday he was at his pitch, so I asked him, and he said he knew nothing about the story! I handed him the copy, but it turned out that he was not able to read in English! - so I read out the letter, and it brought back the memory of the incident. I suggested getting one of his friends or family to re-read it to him.

By odd coincidence, one of the two cashpoints there happened not to be working, although there was nothing to indicate this. The chap in front of me in the queue stopped a woman about to use it, saying that the machine had accepted his card but not dispensed cash. He then kindly demonstrated this for her benefit ; I rushed on into the shop, without finding out if the amounts supposedly dispensed had been deducted!

The woman on the checkout asked if I had any plans for Christmas, then told me about an amateur choir in which she was a participant, and that they were doing a live carol singing session in the local Methodist Hall on the 15th, to which anyone was welcome to join in. I said I didn't think I would be a suitable contributer, not being of the Christian persuasion. "Oh, we're only singing Christmas carols", she insisted, "it's nothing to do with religion"!

[Serial_Apologist]

The legend over the entrance to the local Everyman cinema reads:

A MARY CHRISTMAS POPPINS FOR A DRINK



The charming wife of the retired surgeon living up the road asked what sort of Christmas I had had. "Oh, quite pleasant, being on my own", I told her. "Is that a state of affairs you prefer then?" she asked - and I noticed for the first time she has an Irish accent. "More like a non-state of affairs", I replied.

[Lat-Literal]

The legend over the entrance to the local Everyman cinema reads:

A MARY CHRISTMAS POPPINS FOR A DRINK



The charming wife of the retired surgeon living up the road asked what sort of Christmas I had had. "Oh, quite pleasant, being on my own", I told her. "Is that a state of affairs you prefer then?" she asked - and I noticed for the first time she has an Irish accent. "More like a non-state of affairs", I replied.

[ferneyhoughgeliebte]

More "a state of non-affairs" in my case.

[Serial_Apologist]

More "a state of non-affairs" in my case.

Whichever way around!

[ferneyhoughgeliebte]

Whichever way around!

Well, I do make the offer, but ...

[ferneyhoughgeliebte]

Waiting for the film to start in the local cinema. There was an elderly couple sitting behind me; one of those "evidently been together far too long but left it far too late to do anything about it now" pairings, constantly bickering in very loud whispers about everything during the trailers , but mostly about a new phone that they'd recently bought - he couldn't figure out how it worked, but he was blowed if he was going to take any advice from her! They settled down once the Classification Board came on screen, but were a bit perplexed to read "Some Violence and Strong Sex".

He: "Eee - I 'ope it's not TOO strong!"
She: "I shouldn't worry - you'll probably be asleep when it's happening. [Pause] As usual."

[Joseph K]

Waiting for the film to start in the local cinema. There was an elderly couple sitting behind me; one of those "evidently been together far too long but left it far too late to do anything about it now" pairings, constantly bickering in very loud whispers about everything during the trailers , but mostly about a new phone that they'd recently bought - he couldn't figure out how it worked, but he was blowed if he was going to take any advice from her! They settled down once the Classification Board came on screen, but were a bit perplexed to read "Some Violence and Strong Sex".

He: "Eee - I 'ope it's not TOO strong!"
She: "I shouldn't worry - you'll probably be asleep when it's happening. [Pause] As usual."

[Serial_Apologist]

A sign seen on this morning's cycle trip to Deptford:

"Welcome to Münüre's Coffee Shop
Open seven days a week"



On the way back I narrowly missed colliding with a greyhound; fortunately the owner managed to whippet away just in time.

[Serial_Apologist]

Crossing the Thames via the Hungerford pedestrian bridge, adjacent to the Festival Hall, I noticed a number of those padlocks fixed to the railings that we heard about from briDges over the Seine in Paris a few years ago - the ones placed by amorous couples. On one of the ones seen this morning was the following inscription:

"STEVE AND ALISON CAME TOGETHER FOR THE FIRST TIME AT THIS SPOT"

[Serial_Apologist]

Two short items:

I regularly use a local Sainsbury's for my groceries. In order to release the shopping trolleys one needs either a special tiddlywink thing obtained for a Pound from the shop, or a Pound coin will do. Last winter an old, pre multi-sided pound coin dropped out of my watering can - it had somehow lodged itself in the spout - and I have been using this coin as my trolley releaser. On Thursday I made my usual visit, and, on replacing the trolley, went over to the Big Issue seller, and bought the latest edition, paying him the £2.50 I always make sure to have on me, as he is the only Big Issue seller I've known who insists on giving change. As I was unlocking my bike, a man of about my age accosted me, asking me all kinds of questions and generally engaging me in very animated conversation. After a few minutes, standing there talking to this man, I noticed the Big Issue seller vigorously gesticulating at me, but, not wishing to appear rude to my new acquantaince, put my hand up in silent acknowledgement. A few moments later we separated, and, noticing the Big Issue man was now talking with a passer-by, I thought better than to interrupt - after all, I could always return at a later date and find out what he might have been wanting to say to me - and rode home. On sorting out my loose change, I now discovered the old non-legal tender Pound coin to be missing. Ah, I thought - in my haste I must have used it to pay for the magazine! So, yesterday, I made my way back to his Sainsbury's pitch, and was lucky to find him there. Explaining my reasons I gave the man, Danny, the owed Pound coin - but it was much to his surprise, I think, because he looked down at his hand in apparent puzzlement, and back up at me. "But why did you want to speak to me when I was leaving yesterday?" I asked. "I just wanted to say hello!" he replied. "But you'd already said that, when I bought the paper!" I told him!



Second item. An elderly lady lives across my street. She normally keeps her front garden in a state of immaculate tidiness, with the help of a visiting handyman, but after a week I noticed that her wonderful roses had not been dead-headed, and started to worry, not having seen her recently. Then a week ago, I saw her, making her way very dodderingly down to the local post office, and it turned out she had had to return early from a holiday in the Algarve, having sustained very bad injuries - a broken wrist, two broken ribs - tripping up on a kerbstone. I mentioned noticing the roses, to which she replied that she had not been up to carrying out the job; so I offered to do it myself - after all it would only be about a ten minute job every day, as part of doing our own roses, and she gratefully agreed. She is quite a feisty lady, and one of the neighbours told me she is 91. But yesterday, another neighbour said to me, "Dou you know who that lady is?" I said no. "It's Lady Morris, the widow of (Lord) Alf Morris, the Labour peer who introduced the Disability Act in 1970, and campaigned on behalf of disabled people including Thaldomide victims". I just checked up: he died in 2012. A good, wonderful man, of the old, true Labour school.

I'm pleased to report that Lady Irene Morris is now back to her sprightly self. But isn't that amazing?

[LMcD]

A lady customer in the charity shop in which I help out was trying on a pair of trousers which, let's say, she filled without difficulty. Having asked her friend for an honest opinion, which the friend wisely declined to provide, she performed a couple of twirls and then announced: 'It's the pockets that make me look a bit hippy'. It's at times like this that volunteers really need to control their face muscles.