Jaqui's Daily Blog

Taking the Scenic Route and Thinking of One's Stomach

Our quarterly U3A Convenors Meeting was at a different venue to usual. It seemed strange to be walking into the Heene Community Centre without my Birchgrove Primary School bag housing my red choir folder and bottle of water, in preparation for a session of Singing for Pleasure. I wasn't sure the Convenors Meeting would be half as much fun.

To be honest, I wish I'd brought the bottled water with me. The room where we convened (if you'll excuse the pun. And even if you won't) was very hot, very stuffy and very crowded. Luckily for me, I had been saved a seat near the front by friends Jim and Delia - that is, Delia of cribbage and the delicious biscuits, rather than Delia of the Victoria Sponge cake recipe which I now use for all my birthday cakes. By this I mean birthday cakes for other people's birthdays, you understand, not that I have birthday cakes in the plural for my own birthday. I find it rather worrying that I am only two paragraphs into today's Daily Blog and already I seem to be doing a lot of explaining. This may, or may not, be down to Muddled Thinking on my part. As I used to tell people who attended my training sessions on Writing for the Public: "clear writing is clear thinking on paper." Sometimes I think I would do well to listen to myself occasionally.

There was a lot to take in at this morning's meeting on account of the fact that our U3A Open Day is looming large. Roland, who is in charge of All Things Open Day Related, had printed off beautifully colour coded plans of the community centre rooms we will be taking over for the day, plus programmes explaining what will be happening when, and where. Our Nomination Whist group, for example, will be Stand number R15 in Room 1. Also with me in Room 1 will be the Mah Jong group, two Backgammon groups, the Bridge players, three Cribbage groups, Rummikub and Mexican Dominoes, plus three Scrabble groups. Hopefully it is a large room...

As well as staffing the Games Room, I will be singing in the choir for 15 minutes from 12.45 on the day and have offered to help out my friend Shirley on the refreshments rota. Convenors are being asked to arrive at 9.30 a.m. to set up their stands. Fortunately as all I have to bring with me is a pack of cards, a couple of score sheets and a card marking whether hearts, clubs, diamonds or spades are "trumps", I shouldn't need to do too much loading and unloading. Which, all things considered, has to be A Good Thing.

At every Convenors Meeting, a couple of us give a short talk on the groups they organise. This morning it was the turn of the Lovely Linda who organises our Birdy Group. It was not going to be easy, she said by way of introduction, to talk for five minutes. Birds is birds, as we always say on those days when our feathered friends stubbornly fail to show themselves as we strain our binoculars on every branch of every tree waiting for a sighting.

After the meeting, I went to collect my car so that I could give Jim and Delia a lift home. Unfortunately I had forgotten that Mr B's rollator was taking up most of the rear seat so poor Delia had an uncomfortable ride home, perched on the wheels. Jim, meanwhile, realised why Mr B takes such great issue with my driving as I took my passengers all around the houses trying to find the way home. My dear Dad used to call this "taking the scenic route" and I rather think I have inherited his innate ability to find the longest way of getting from Point A to Point B.

Back home, later in the day, Wales takes the football equivalent of the scenic route before beating Northern Ireland by one goal to nil in Euro 2016. Mr B and I watch the match together, though I have to keep nipping out into the kitchen to check on the jacket potatoes cooking in the oven, to prepare the salad, to make a salmon and spring onion filling for said potatoes. Mr B can't understand why I couldn't leave all this until after the match - but we have to eat, now don't we?

Down in Wales, My Boy and his family are watching the match in a local hostelry. What the Duracell Bunny, Youngest of the (Not So Very Little) Welsh Boys makes of the match has not been recorded, his main contribution to the conversation being to comment that "these chips are the best food in the whole world!"

I am pleased to hear that he obviously takes after his proud Nanna. Like me it would seem - and whatever the distractions of Euro 2016 and Gareth Bale's top-knot - the Duracell Bunny is Always Thinking About His Stomach.

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Latest comments

23.04 | 20:15

lovely and heartwarming - an inspiration to us all x

09.03 | 12:07

Love this story told as ever beautifully.x

10.11 | 21:31

What a super account of a special event. I loved meeting you last night and seeing your creation come together. I’m so pleased you got so much from the activity

07.09 | 13:17

I have broad shoulders x

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