This joke from Geoff had me laughing for a full ten minutes.

Just a “Quickie”!

Exactly what are pocket springs? Are they mini mousetraps that you keep in your pockets ready for the moment when you’re exceedingly bored and need something to wake you up? No, they are “de rigueur” in modern mattresses, the idea being that a person can move and turn in bed without disturbing his or her partner (unlike one of our old mattresses, which shakes like a gigantic jelly at the slightest movement… and Chris has restless legs!). Anyway, the more pocket springs, the merrier – and the more expensive. Recently Chris and I splashed out on a new pocket spring mattress and a cheap, but attractive, bed frame.

“I could just lie here and go to sleep,” says Mary.

“So you don’t think it’s too hard then?” I ask.

It is three o’clock in the afternoon and my sister and I are lying on the new bed in one of our guest bedrooms at the top of the house, testing it for comfort and strength (the bed, not the house). I have been a bit worried about the new pretty white bed since we purchased it, really cheaply; in fact, we went back to the store twice with questions about its credentials and fitness for purpose. Wouldn’t it be terrible if the bed collapsed under the strain of a well-built couple at a crucial moment? Which has happened at least once (to my knowledge) to my brother Henry and his girlfriend in Australia. But the man in the bed department assured Chris and me that our remarkably cheap bed was the strongest metal bed in the whole store. But is it comfortable?

“It’s ever so comfy,” Mary closes her eyes.

“The mattress has pocket springs,” I comfort myself, “but there isn’t much bounce – is there?”

“Good for sleep,” Mary catches my drift.

“And what about other things?” I query with a smile.

We’re rather weary after traipsing up to the top floor (fifty one steps from the ground floor) so it is with some effort of will that my sister and I muster the energy to attempt to make the mattress bounce. Soon we tire of the futile exercise and lay back languidly on the lifeless, but dreamily comfortable, pocket spring mattress.

“Oh dear,” I say, “not the best for love-making…”

“That’s not your worry, Sally,” Mary opens her eyes and smiles mischievously, “besides, the big lovers can sleep on Dad’s old bed – with the wobbly mattress – in the next room. And anyway, you have to remember the kids are a lot younger than us.”

I expect you sometimes wonder how my slimming diet is going… Well, yes, I’m still on a diet of sorts, ever watchful of all that goes into my mouth. Do I ever succumb to temptation? Why of course, which is why I’m always on a diet. I’m just not very good at it. I lose a bit and gain a bit, weigh myself every morning (to keep myself in check) and promise myself that I will be good, which I am (for the most part). Nevertheless, I keep pretty much the same weight, according to which country I’m in – Australia (slimmer) or England (not so slim).

The other morning Chris saw me naked on the bathroom scales. He probably noticed that I was exhaling at the time and he smiled very sweetly at me.

“Why bother when you stay the same?” he asked.

“Because I wouldn’t be the same if I didn’t bother,” I answered with a smile (actually I was quite happy that he hadn’t noticed I was having a heavy morning!).

Later on that day my sister and my niece Katie called in to see us – Katie came in before Mary, who had to find a parking space farther down our road.

“You look nice!” said Katie observing my cute little pink jerkin top.

“Thank you,” I beamed, “it’s new – it was half price and I couldn’t resist trying it on even though it’s a small size. What size do you reckon it is?”

Now at this point I should inform you that my niece is around thirty-eight weeks pregnant and about ready to drop; whilst I, on the other hand, am simply naturally cuddly. All the same, Katie understands the size issue we women all seem to share.

“Well,” she began, “as you’re mentioning it, it has to be really small… Is it a size eight?”

“No, too big,” I dismissed the suggestion with a giggle.

“Size six then?”

“Nope, you’ll never guess – it’s for an eleven-year-old!” I told her gleefully.

“And it fits well”, Katie enthused.

“It doesn’t do up of course but it does fit well – doesn’t it!

“Looks like that’s how it was designed to be worn,” Katie nodded with approval.

Then Mary arrived.

“Mum,” said Katie to her mum, “look at Aunty Sally’s nice new top – it’s only a size ’11 year old’.

“How marvellous, ” said Mary, marvelling at my voluptuous figure inside the figure-hugging pink top.

“And you know that if it’s for eleven year old girls…” my niece paused.

“Yes,” said my sister, “it means you must be slim Sally!”

My thoughts exactly!

Annie Lennox – Keep Young and Beautiful (with lyrics …

▶ 2:18

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sf4z1iNRYMY

18 Mar 2014 – Uploaded by PippoOfEarth

Annie Lennox – Keep Young and Beautiful (with lyrics).

She wasn’t so much sweet as determined. She didn’t even smile at me – she simply appeared at the Pick ‘n’ Mix area where, incidentally, I happened to be at the time. You see I had felt a bit peckish (even though I had shared a “Big Mac” with Chris a little earlier – because we were out and about looking for a new bed) as I was passing the sweet department. I had thought I might purchase a few red sweets (my favourite) and had already popped six miscellaneous red jelly things into a large paper cup when Chris informed me that you couldn’t buy a small amount from the Pick ‘n’ Mix section.

“They are bought by the cup at £1.89 a time,” he informed me, pointing at the sign (with small print).

“Oh dear,” I replied, “I suppose I could put them back…”

“Or you could cram in as many as you can and make it worthwhile,” my husband suggested.

That seemed like quite a good idea so I stood there for a fairly long time selecting everything red or chocolate (for Chris, who had wandered off to look at car accessories, or electrical wire… or whatever men like to look at). My cup was crammed to overflowing (but if I pushed them down the lid would go on – the prerequisite of the deal) when I realised I was not alone. I observed a little girl with her beady eyes on my full cup of sweets. The child was extremely short, leading me to believe her no more than two years old, and she had blonde wispy hair held back from her chubby face with hair slides. She had a pugnacious expression, which told me that she would brook no dissent and I was in no doubt that she had a stronger will than me.

“Can I have one?” she asked in surprisingly good talk for one so young.

I paused to consider – I hadn’t paid for them yet. A store detective might lead me off to await the arrival of a policeman… On the other hand, if I promised myself not to replace the missing sweet… what difference would it make? I was going to have to pay £1.89 anyway. Whilst I was considering these things the little girl’s mother came along the aisle to find her child.

“Come on Caroline. You don’t want any sweets,” the mother said smiling apologetically at me.

The child didn’t budge. She knew I had given in and she waited for the bulging cup to descend to her level. She took the big red jelly strawberry on the top, which was so big that it left a indentation in the pile underneath, but I didn’t replace it because I had made my pact. The little tot ran off to find her mum and I joined Chris who, having found a much needed car accessory, was eager to press on to the bed department.

“I picked up some chocolate sweets for you,” I tempted.

“Oh, I hate those Pick ‘n’ Mix chocolates – they aren’t even chocolate,” he answered scathingly.

I popped a red jelly sweet in the shape of a dog’s bone into my mouth (well, I was going to pay £1.89 for the cupful). It didn’t taste very nice so I tried a different variety- and that wasn’t very nice either. One of the big red strawberries was quite tasty but altogether too big and jellified. One of the crushed yellow bananas (put in as a nod to childhood memories) was incredibly sweet and one of the sour red twists was really too sour. Meanwhile, we had done our business (found a new bed to our taste) and we were walking back to the bathroom department by way of the Pick ‘n’ Mix shelves…

“I don’t think I really want these after all,” I said.

“Not now that you’ve had something sweet,” Chris laughed.

“Well we have spent lots of money here today,” I said.

And I pushed the nearly full cup of sweets onto a shelf near to the place from whence they had come. The lid was still on. I ran to catch up with Chris who had disowned me. Sh! Mum’s the word!

(In order not to disappoint those who came across my blog in the hope of finding the lyrics to Sweet Caroline I have copied and pasted them – also a link to Youtube Neil Diamond singing -below.)

“Sweet Caroline”

Neil Diamond – Sweet Caroline (with lyrics) – YouTube

▶ 3:23

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-MLOrHCwgkQ

28 Dec 2013 – Uploaded by Kevin Hunt

Neil Diamond – Sweet Caroline (with lyrics) …. I love him but elvis version is more better…elvis gave life to …