Lots of our activities are on a Summer break at the moment. It makes a lot of sense and means that if a Darling Daughter or a grandchild or two decide to pay an unplanned visit, the pages of our diary are not crammed with
meetings of one group or another. Even our Nomination Whist group is taking a holiday, just for the month of August.
One activity which has not shut up shop for the duration is Film Club which meets on the
second Tuesday of the month in the bar on the first floor of a local theatre. This week's offering was "I'm Alright, Jack," which included a mega-star cast of Fifties Famous from Peter Sellers and Ian Carmichael to Irene Handl and Margaret Rutherford. Plus
Sam Kydd who, those if a Certain Age may remember, seems to have had a part in virtually every film and TV programme made during the Fifties and Sixties.
I may have mentioned in a previous blog that before
we can settle down to watch the Film of the Month, the windows and doors have to be blacked out with old curtains or cardboard cut to size. When we are all gathered and Tony, the organiser, announces that it is time for "Curtain Up", he is not announcing the
start of the programme but the need to fix the final length of blackout curtain to the main entrance door.
Mr B and I arrive with just five minutes till "Curtain Up", having watched our bus disappearing up
the road while we were trying to cross the road on the way to the bus stop. Mr B takes the lift while I purchase a coffee (for me), an orange drink (for Mr B) and a tube of Werthers Originals (for both of us.) This is what I call Making Ourselves Comfortable.
It makes up somewhat (in my opinion, though not in Mr B's) for the fact that the chairs on which we are sitting are less than comfy.
I suggest to Mr B that we could sit right at the back, leaving a space between
ourselves and the row which would have been the back row, had we not created our own row of two (I do hope you are keeping up?) Last month, when I went to Film Club without Mr B (it was a film with subtitles and Mr B holds the strong belief all films should
be produced in the English language) I found it was easier to see the screen unimpeded by stray heads from this position. Mr B, having settled himself in his seat, is not inclined to move so we stayed put. Mr B is Not Easily Moved.
I am aware that, fellow Film Club members aside, we are not meeting up with many of our friends as usual. This is easily remedied by introducing a number of Keep In Touch lunches. As One a Who Is Always Thinking About Her Stomach,
it is difficult to think of a more appropriate and pleasurable course of action.
So last week I met Pam for coffee while tomorrow lunchtime we will meet up with Roland and Shirley. They are founder members,
with us, of the Bacon Bap Brigade which gathers in the Heene Community Centre each week after Choir. Well, in recent months it is true, Roland has diversified into such foreign delicacies as paninis - but we won't hold that against him. I doubt any of us will
be eating bacon baps tomorrow lunchtime anyway. It would be a waste of an excellent restaurant.
Next week Delia and Jim are coming for a Cribbage, Fish and Chips afternoon. What could be more perfect? Delia
says she and Jim will call in at the "chippy" on their way to ours so all I need to do is lay the table and locate the cribbage board stowed away at the bottom of our holiday flight bag. Oh, and find a beer which will be to Jim's taste. This may be a problem,
given my scant knowledge of beer, combined with the fact that Jim is An Expert Quaffer. A Connoisseur, no less.
Delia advises me that her fella likes gold-coloured ale. I make a note of it in my diary, next
to the entry that says "Delia and Jim." I wonder how I will know my blonde ale from my brunette. I may need to consult somebody knowledgeable. But who? Delia says she will be drinking water. How deliciously uncomplicated. And yet - is that still or sparkling,
or (my favourite brand) Straight From The Tap?
Such minor considerations. All that really matters, in this holiday season, is Keeping In Touch.