The difference between men and women in lockdown
Her: Hello Mr Latimer, I am home. What’s for dinner?
Me: Greetings Mrs Latimer, oh light of my life and foundation garment of my very existence! Dinner’s whatever you’re cooking for me.
Her: (Sigh!) You want your tapwater fried or boiled?
Me: Surprise me. I regret that I have been unable to cook as I am otherwise engaged making a sign
Her: “CAUTIOUS HUGS. £20 FOR 2 SECONDS.” … You what?
Me: I am going into the hugging business. I shall go into town tomorrow morning and stand in the middle of Broadmead, or some other location with a lively passing trade, and offer hugs to all who need them at a very competitive price.
Her: Have you not heard of the Coronavirus?
Me: Restrictions are gradually being lifted, and the Prime Minister himself, who would never tell any lies or do anything remotely dishonest, says it’s OK to cautiously hug people.
Her: Who on earth would pay money to be hugged by you?
Me: Anyone who feels in need of it because the telly and the papers and the internet have been going on and on about how we can all have hugs this week. There will be many with nobody to hug them, either because their loved ones are miles away, or because they’re just horrible and un-huggable people.
Her: Sounds like you’re making yourself into a sort of hugging prostitute.
Me: We in the holding-close trade prefer the more respectful and politically correct term “embraceworker”. But yes, I expect to make a bit of poke from it. We can look forward to that caravan holiday in Middlesbrough in November after all.
Her: It’s too dangerous. The virus is still about.
Me: I shall be taking appropriate precautions. I shall wear a facemask and my home-made PPE. See?
Her: A raincoat, a sou’wester and a pair of pink Marigolds?
Me: Also, I have now had that second jab, as have many older people. On which subject I need to add something to my sign: “ASK ABOUT OUR SENIOR CITIZEN DISCOUNTS”.
Her: Right, I’d better get on with the cooking. I’ll do one of your favourites because of the ordeal you’ll be facing.
Me: (Hopefully) The ordeal of wondering how to spend all the money I shall earn?
Her: No, the ordeal of self-isolation in the garage until we have achieved herd immunity, or you die; whichever’s soonest. You want oven chips or mash with your Fray Bentos pie?
Museum of Making
» Derby is a bit off our patch, but this is worth a mention if you’re ever up that way, as Mrs Latimer and I sometimes are, and because it sounds like the kind of thing that’ll interest many of you.
This Friday, May 21, sees the opening of what’s claimed to be “the UK’s newest, world-class visitor attraction”.
The Museum of Making in the middle of Derby boasts over 30,000 objects on display, tracing the history of manufacture in general and the industries of Derby in particular (it’s on the site of the former Derby Silk Mill, which some claim was the first factory run on modern lines). It’s got the world’s smallest engine, which can run using a human hair, all the way seven tonnes of Rolls-Royce Trent engine, something that’ll be familiar to some Bristolians.
Admission’s free but visitors will need to book in advance. Find out more at www.derbymuseums.org/ museum-of-making
Gender differences
» Perhaps you’ve noticed this, too … The difference between men and women in lockdown; the middleaged and older ones anyway. While the women kept in touch with family and friends by phone and online, they have, while it was permitted (and even when it wasn’t) been regularly meeting their for socially distanced walks. To me the abiding image of lockdown is of pairs of women walking along, coffee cups in hand.
Men haven’t tended to meet their friends in person nearly so much.
So a pal of mine tells how he rang up a mate to suggest they go for a walk round the docks together.
Men, as a rule, did not do this sort of thing during the pandemic, and his mate was suspicious, replying: “Why? Are you dying?”
Kingswood tunnels
» Me myself personally I did a double-take when reading the ‘Holidays at Home’ article about Page Park in last week’s BT. The bit about tunnels connecting various locations around Kingswood.
So I went off to check and sure enough. In March 1933 Gloucestershire County Council workmen fixing the road between Staple Hill and Mangotsfield found a tunnel. One of them was looking for the cause of subsidence in the middle of the road and found a passage “about 15 yards long, four feet four inches wide and about six feet high”.
At another point a “Gothic doorway” was found in Page Park and it was noted that at one point the top of the tunnel was only a few inches below the road.
Mr Bertram Horne, the divisional surveyor of the Gloucestershire County Council who was supervising the operations expressed his astonishment that the tunnel had stood up to the motor traffic along the road, particularly “motorbuses”.
Press reports, which added that the uncovered stretch of tunnel had now been filled in, went on to say that the passage was believed to have been part of a network of tunnels which were “used hundreds of years ago by royal huntsmen who stalked the stag and the deer in what was known as ‘Kingswood Forest.’”
Really? Can anyone shed any light on this? OK, so tunnels might have been useful for sneaking around unseen by the animals, but did they really go to the huge expense of digging these things? If anyone can provide any information, and let us know whether or not any of these fabulous subterranean passages still exist, do tell.
Cheers then!