MODERN TIMES – A DAY IN MY PRE-RETIREMENT LIFE

(from my daily notes back then)

Anonymous Young Woman: –

“Why are you putting those signs up in front of the church? – I was going to park there!”

Anonymous Church Pastor: –

“This Morning we have a funeral, and we need this space for the hearse and mourners”

AYW:-

“But I always park here – it’s close to the School and the Coffee Shop!

ACP: –

“Well, I’m sorry, you can’t today – perhaps you’d like to park in the church car park just there.”

AYW:-

“I don’t know why you seem to think you can take over the whole street – I like parking there – it’s convenient!”

ACP:-

“But it is not on the street, it is off the street by the church’s front door, and it is church property – for church use – we don’t mind you parking there on days when we are not using the grounds, but this morning we have a funeral, so we need to use our grounds for that purpose.”

AYW:-

“Well, that is arrogant and grossly unfair! No wonder people are stopping coming to church anymore! … I’ve got rights too you know … I pay my taxes – I am a local … …”

ACP:-

“Calm down, calm down –

Taxes have nothing to do with it, and neither does where you were born. This space is owned by the members of this congregation (and you are not one of them). Sadly, this congregation has a funeral here today.

It is sad and hard time for the family, and we can make it easier for them if we don’t get in their way.

This off-street area is the place where the hearse and the immediate family park their cars …out the front of the church.”

“I have said you are welcome to park in the car park – it’s only 5 metres away – I’ll even open the gate for you.”

AYW:-

“Humph! You can keep your church! “

(stomp … stomp … stomp … brrrrmmmmm ……..)

ACP

“Sigh!”

Expanding My Horizons.

Time for my midday luncheon crept up on me.
Art Pepper was blowing beautiful sounds from my old Altec horn speakers,
and the sun shone happily outside on this perfect autumnal day in sunny Nairne.

On such a day as this, an old man’s fancy turns to bacon.
“Ah” thought Fox, “a bacon sarnie would go down a treat!”
So, in my never ending quest for a better and healthier dietician pleasing diet,
I placed a frying pan on the cooktop, the toaster on the bench, and attacked the fridge … I removed the usual suspects – Bacon and Cheese, because what more could a bloke possibly want?

Well, my eye was caught by a wee Tupperware ® container – in it were two pineapple rings left over from a dessert Joy had prepared on the weekend.
“Hmmmm” I thought, my imagination sparked.
So I removed them from the container and threw them into the pan with the bacon.

At this point, those who know me outside the blogosphere should be a little surprised.
After all , I am one of those annoying people who rails against the use of pineapple on a pizza.
Such a practice is abominable, if not in the eyes of God, certainly in the eyes of Ant Fox. I have been known to ridicule people for ordering pineapple on their pizza.
I have threatened physical violence on those who attempt to serve me with such.

“Time to expand my culinary horizons”, I thought.
“This could be a food experience akin to a revelation”, I mused.

I eagerly constructed my midday delight – White bread toasted on one side only, fried Adelaide Hills bacon, cheddar cheese, and fried pineapple rings.

Yes my horizons were expanded.
My eyes were opened!

Once I really, really disliked pineapple on pizza.
Now, thanks to today,
I really, really dislike pineapple on bacon sandwiches as well!

ROTTING RODENT RECOLLECTIONS.

I have been thinking about mice. In particular I have been thinking about the scurrying, furry, scrabbling, poo-laden, smelly mouse plague we had a few years ago when we were still living in the old manse in Tanunda, all too near the heavily moused wheat fields and vineyards.

I was so moved by the extravagant mouseness of that month that I wrote a wee poem to celebrate … an ode to Autumness and all its little wonders.
I call it “Autumn”

“Autumn”

Oh to be in Tanunda
Now the season’s changed.
Autumn, the time of wonder
When rodents go deranged.
Autumn, mellow mousy time
They scurry without fear
Perpetrating pantry crime
Eating anything that’s near.
Oh to be in Tanunda 
With a mouse in every trap
A time of mellow wonder
Flavoured with mousy crap.