Catching Up...

Well I don't know how it happened but I appear to have been out in the old ether a little longer than I had intended. Just when you think you have all the time in the world everything piles up. So where do I begin?

Big Fat Greek Wedding.
It was great, everyone turned up, there was the International playboy and Cruella, (his latest girlfriend), JT and her family, us of course and oh, half the Greek community of London milling about either inside or outside the church. Sometimes, inside and outside. The ceremony was fun, we got to play party games like pin the ribbon on the bride and groom, and hide the ring, all coordinated by a rather surly chap who sang everything in a not too tuneful way whilst wearing some very dodgy headgear. It was great fun. The reception was lovely, lots of greek dancing, the old legs got in a bit of a knot when the music got faster, I nearly caused a pile up at one point but I recovered my poise just in time. All in all a lovely day.

Life on the Mean Streets.
What can I say... I have been working full time for the last week or so, hence the rather long sebatical from blogging. It's the holiday season and so a lot of people are enjoying a rest in far off exotic locations, such as Clacton and Brid. Even the morally challenged have decided they need a break, unfortunately not the sort of break that the rest of us have been having. I took a phone call the other morning:
"Hello St Jude speaking"

"Hello, I think I've done something stupid!" It was a rather flustered young man.

"Ok, I'm listening,"

"Well I was in A&E, and I was just getting it looked at,"

"Hmm,"

"I didn't mean to do it, honest, he was just getting a cuppa for me, so I just did it."

"Sorry, sweetie, can you give me your name?" I typed it in and brought up his record. "Urm where are you now?"

"I'm just heading up towards town. I don't know what to do, I haven't got any money and me arse is freezing,"

"All righty. By the way how are you making this call?" I asked hesitantly.

"I 'borrowed a mobile from some bloke in the hospital,"

It would appear that this particular young man was in actual fact an inmate, (make that previously an inmate), at a local Young Offenders Institution. He had been at A&E with an officer, who stupidly had left the aforementioned inmate unattended. So what did the little horace do, he upped and walked out... in the hospital gown. Panic hit and a nasty draft around the nethers, so he phoned 'home'. It all turned out well though, I told him to head to the nearest Police Station and turn himself in. I did phone them on his behalf though just to make sure that he had a reservation.

Then two days later I received a nice little note from Custody at another local establishment, informing me to kindly update my records. One of their inmates was no longer with them, he had transferred out. In actuality, he had absconded but as they are going through an audit, they didn't like to use that word.

And finally whilst in reception the other day one of morally challenged stopped me and asked if I could tell the Officer who was coming down to see him that he had just gone to take a pee. With that he waltzed past the toilet and headed out into the front doorway where he relieved himself. Later on checking his file I noted that he was N.F.A. (no fixed abode), it may not always be mean on the streets, but sometimes it is messy. Another mop and bucket job for me then.



Mrs Beeton.
She has been having a little rest over the last couple of days. Over the latter part of last week her daughter, my sister in law came to visit with my neice and her beau. On Friday night we decided it would be nice to catch up with said s.i.l. so we arranged to go out for a meal, just the three of us as the kids were attending a wedding and Mrs Beeton normally retires at 9pm. However upon hearing of our plans, she decided that she would like to accompany us. Just one slight issue, we were going to a Cantonese restaurant! What's the problem with that you may be asking? Well you see the Fat Controller was a strictly meat and two veg man, he would not even remotely entertain anything that did not conform to this, and so neither could Mrs Beeton.

So with some trepidation we sat down to eat. The starters arrived and we showed Mrs Beeton the mechanics of chopsticks. She was game and after having deposited several won tons and a spare rib on the table opposite, she managed to come to an arrangement with her chopsticks. They also work rather well when used in the fashion of knitting needles. She had created her own version of chopstick kebabs. The king prawns were another new experience for her and after declaring her liking for them she happily sat back and demolished the entire plate of them that had been intended for the four of us. Her hunger now sated, she announced that she was rather tired and that we should be getting home so that she could retire, it was 8.40pm, we sat down to eat at 8.20pm. After several attempts at negotiating an extension of her bedtime, we managed to agree that we would leave at 9pm. So in a flurry of chopsticks and much to the amused interest of the surrounding tables we ploughed through our meal in record breaking time. We did manage to get her home by 9.15pm and she was soundly asleep by 9.30pm. We on the other hand spent the entire night tossing and turning with volcanic indigestion.