How did I get all this STUFF? There are things in the kitchen cupboard I have never seen before, I have no recollection of ever buying a chafing dish..why would I ? I don't know how to chafe, and wouldn't need a special dish to do it in,even if I did. I have two irons. One of them had better go in the fire. Time was when you could whisk everything down to the charity shop and they would be pleased. Now that all their volunteers have doctorates, and they sell things made from fir cones by craftspeople; they turn up their noses and ask you for fire certificates. I once bought an electric blanket from a charity shop in Leeds, when I was the coldest student of 1973. It was that Germolene colour, but it looked all right, had a plug, and everything. Given that my flat had a one-bar electric fire on a meter that I fed my entire grant into;it seemed like unimaginable luxury to snuggle down with it on, under layers of flannelette sheets and a quilt from T.J's.
The resultant fire made me wake up thinking our Vicar was right, and I had gone to Hell. Luckily , and unusually, I was sober and had enough presence of mind to stamp on my bed until it was merely smouldering. Then I poured a pint of water over it. My flatmates laughed supportively at my plight, sympathetically gathered around me in the kitchen, and instructed me to move out. Several months later another fire of a more serious nature saw them all shivering in their nighties outside, as the entire building was hosed down by firemen. Apparently, there had been something seriously adrift with the wiring,so possibly me and my Firestarter blanket might not have been entirely to blame.
I once had a walk-out with a boy whose father was very high-up in the Fire Service. Mr Fireman had a peculiar sense of humour, as a brief look at his wife would tell you. He owned a big book of deeply disturbing photographs depicting exactly what happens to the human body when it takes it into its head to spontaneously combust. When I say "solitary unscathed foot still in BHS slipper, lying in pool of dark goo", you will get the general idea. Oh, and "freakishly distended testicles by moonlight ", that was another of his favourites. I suppose his family were lucky that he didn't have them framed and hung over the fireplace. Unfortunately for Mr Fireman, with his Fat Boy In Pickwick Papers "I wants ter make yer flesh creep" attitude; I had a high tolerance for the gruesome, and regularly devoured the vilest chronicles of darkness and dismay provided by Herbert Von Thal's collections of horror stories. Furthermore, I had a Great Aunt who was a nurse. Her idea of teatime conversation often began with such sentences as; "Well, when they opened him up, they found..." and ended with "None of us had seen one of THOSE before, so we all went to have a look". I wonder if today's nurses possess such healthy curiosity. Recent experience working in a hospital has led me towards the view that you could walk in with a foot growing out of your forehead and no-one would even glance at you. My favourite reading matter was a book belonging to her called "Medical Curiosities and Anomalies" dated from around 1910. The illustrator had let his imagination run wild when it came to deformity and peculiar growths. I was downcast and disappointed when my baby brother turned out not to be "Jo-Jo The Dog-Faced Boy" . While expecting the Giant, I slightly regretted the ghoulish little girl I had been. Due to my great age (elderly primagravida, as they kept writing on my notes, reminding me of Iron Butterfly's hit), I had a series of tests which ranged from scans, nothing more appalling than cold gel on the abdomen, to "invasive". One of the latter featured a huge knitting needle, and was clearly dreamt up by Edgar Allan Poe. Whilst awaiting the results, my mind strayed to "Medical Curiosities" more often than was restful. I was fortunate enough to have a flamboyantly brilliant consultant, Kyprios Nicoliaides. He was a great fan of Nancy Mitford, whose novels we discussed in some detail while he performed something tricky with a big spoon. He later became an object of public censure as a result of his cocktail-party chat during examinations, which one lady found inappropriate. Reading of the case in the newspapers; I thought fondly of him, and of his bedside manner by which I was instantly put at ease.Perhaps the other lady was a Thomas Hardy type?
Any diversion is welcome in hospital. I worked in one for eighteen months; a fascinating experience for all concerned. It was nothing short of miraculous that I was appointed in the first place. I became a little over-excited during the interview, and told the Chief Executive that I had given birth "In this very hospital." I should have stopped at that, but, afflicted by run-away mouth and slight nervous hysteria, I went on to indicate a large stain on the ancient carpet in the boardroom and say "But not there... Ha! Ha!. " The memory of six polite but puzzled faces turned upon me; all thinking "WTF?", stays with me to this day, and can be called upon to heat me up when the boiler breaks down. Which of course it will.
Well, after two days of struggling with boxes and tape, we have now moved. The Gambier Towers era is over, the next phase has begun. Who knows what new adventures we shall have? And who cares ?Although I must tell you about the move itself. That is a whole other gory story..
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