A Mince and Marmalade Sandwich, the Smell of Fish, and Sir Cloudesley Shovell.

Many strange things happen in this household, they are never claimed by the perpetrators, the mysteries rankle with the resident matron who as you will have guessed is moi. There was a nauseating stench of rotting fish in the basement this week, I thought in the end it was a dead rat or at worst, plies of unwashed knickers, but none could be found and Tom the mouse man was summoned. Before he arrived the “nipote” joined the inspectorate and almost at once located the source. It was a tin of salmon that “someone”???? had opened possibly mistaking it for something else . Clearly the culprit did not fancy it and snucked it back at the bottom of the plie. The discovery made us both wretch, barbeque tongs were used to extricate it with full ebola protection we have just in case, because you never quite know do you? I offered a bribe to one of the recumbent males in the house to rush it to the council bin at the end of the road. I bet the story did not end there, the sanitary engineers have strong stomachs, but this was nuclear, I tell you.

It took a long time for me to recover my appetite and my very wicked ex literary agent suggested in future I store tins of fish in my bedroom where they would not be tampered with, and that if anybody asked about it I was to reply that I was writing the sequel to Salmon fishing in the Yemen.

The next day I began to feel a little better and fancied some toast and marmalade, I make very good marmalade…. I took it from the usual pot and thought it had a funny smell I took a bite and realized very quickly that is was mince meat that some crackhead had put with the marmalade. I might prepare a nice salmon and raw mince meat sandwich for the Sainted One whilst I am out carousing today.

Talking of carousing we went to cocktails with a very nice couple last week and very soon the subject of Sir Cloudesley Shovell was subtly introduced into the conversation. After a modest silence I enquired what had happened to the ring? There was a gasp of admiration, for the second time in my life I have been able to illustrate my absolute knowledge of Sir Cloudesley the first was in a gathering of history professors who thought I was a dull middle class housewife, surely they are wrong ????? it shut them up actually, one of them announced they never realized I was intelligent, “ had your Chance Missed it” I replied sharply.

On this occasion I did draw attention to the fact that Sir Cloudesley ran the entire English Fleet a ground off the coast of the Scilly Isles a long time ago now it is why they are called the Scilly Isles …… they did not have longitude you see and two and a half thousand men drowned. The British are mad so they buried him in Westminster Abbey because it was an astonishing achievement. He wasn’t found for a bit , he had interestingly been the only survivor but he was murdered for his valuable ring as he cried out for water! The person who raised this was naturally a descendent proud of the blood line, perhaps I was not very tactfull.

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