I cannot believe how, or why it has taken me so long to add something vaguely witty or wise to my little Hello Sixty blog.
Anyone would think I’d been frantically busy, or had fallen in love and was beyond distracted. But I have no excuse.
I’m sure all of you have picked up one of those ancient magazines you find in the dentist, and suddenly found something amusing in it, so let’s just go with ‘better later than never’ and crack on.
This is the story of one man, and two brushes. All will become clear, so stick with it.
Brush Number One.
I’m really fussy about tea. I like to make my own tea, and wherever possible it has to be Yorkshire Tea.
I don’t mind it being made in a mug during the day and evening, BUT my first cup of tea of the day just has to be made in a white bone china cup. Don’t ask me why, it just does.
As lots of you will know, I’ve recently returned from a trip to Spain, and after selling all my worldly goods to go in the first place, now I need to restock my new abode with virtually everything from knives and forks and pots and pans, right up to beds, sofa’s and beyond.
One of my gentleman callers who starts virtually every sentence with ‘I’m not tight but….’ gets very turned on by a trip to Poundland and he treated me to 6 new mugs. They cost exactly a £1.00 each.
They were perfectly acceptable, but favourite was still my pure white, bone china breakfast tea cup, which I bought myself, and cost £4.99 in Sainsbury’s.
And yes you can taste the difference.
Fast forward. I’ve gone mad painting shelves and upcycling some shabby shite which I’ve paid next to nothing for at car boot sales, and I’m very fond of wrapping my brushes in cling film and leaving them laying around the kitchen until the next project.
Imagine if you will then how utterly grateful I was to Mr. ‘I’m not tight but…’, when I found that out of all the mugs in my kitchen, he’d ‘helpfully’ rounded up my paint brushes and left them to soak in……..my beautiful pure white bone china breakfast tea cup.
It’s relevant to say here that Mr ‘I’m not tight but….’ is a nice chap, very helpful, and a top bloke for putting up shelves and curtain poles. But he’s SO careful with his money, and likes to hold onto it for as long as humanly possible and is more than reluctant to spend it.
Oh, and did I mention he’s won the lottery not once, but twice! Not life changing amounts, but more than enough to make a big difference, and just last week won yet another £150 on a scratch card. Talk about money going to money!
Brush Number Two.
Things disappear don’t they, usually it’s just socks and things. But recently so did my dustpan and brush. I have no idea where it went, I think I must have just left it in a bin bag and chucked it out with the rubbish.
Mr ‘I’m not tight but…’ found this completely mystifying and mulled over its disappearance for an unhealthily long time.
The lost dustpan and brush was actually white, but he mourned the loss so much he began to even debate the colour, saying that he was sure it was maroon.
He’d been putting up some shelves, and there’s always that bit of dust that gets trapped on the skirting board, and of course you don’t realise how handy these things are, until you’ve chucked them away!
But on about the 5th time of trying to start a conversation about the ffffflippin dustpan and brush, unsurprisingly I flipped and suggested that if I had one handy, I’d shove it where the sun don’t shine.
Some days later, he left a message on my phone that went something like this.
‘You are going to laugh at this’…….( I doubted it )……I’m in a shop, standing in front of loads of dustpan and brushes all in different colours, and I don’t know if I should get you one or not, and what colour you would like. You are not answering your phone and I really don’t know what to do’.
And then he hung up.
He was standing in Poundland. The dustpan and brush was ONE pound. He didn’t get me one.
If you, on the other hand really don’t get ME, refer back to the paragraph in italics above.
In the end, I bought my own dustpan and brush, and it too cost a £1.00 from a boot sale, after a few outings, the handle broke.
Now if only someone had bought me a spare one………MEN!