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Master mariner in iceberg shock

November 14, 2011

Sunday, the traditional day of rest dawned bright and sunny, it was only later that the metaphorical  clouds created by alcohol descended, but as usual, that was after an especially bright period. Lunch without knowledge, my knowledge that is was about to take place. If I had cared to look, the signs were there, the enforced gardening yesterday, the especially long trip to the supermarket, the ridiculous bill for that nice lady decorator “just popping out for a few things”, but I had my Sunday Times, the hammock, a tantalising view of snow on the highest mountains, warm sunshine and a coffee, and all was well with the world, until around 2pm when people started arriving.

Firstly (as usual) Master Mariner Mundell and his wife, the god like Zillah arrived early as is often the case. The Master must have misread the tides or there was a following wind or something, or perhaps a man who has been religiously circumcised (and that does not mean he had sailed around the world if you get my err…drift) wanted to ensure that he extracted the maximum value from any situation.

Suzanne Butterfield appeared and then her husband Peachy hoved into view, although given his gargantuan size there was not much of a view of anything else was  left. He was clutching a magnum of 2011 Cote du Rhone, so fresh it was still warm from the summer and with he was particularly pleased. He seems to eschewed the Mancunian Merlot and the Accrington Stanley Asti Spumante  and the other wine gems he has visited upon is in the past, having at last discovered cheap French wine, which is a move forward however small. He did spend some time bemoaning the fact that the Cote Du Rhone he has found recently which he considers a bargain t 1.39 Euros (about £1.20 at today’s exchange rates according to Currencies Direct) had apparently sold out, not being on the shelves. I think it is more likely that it been moved to the paint stripper department.

But then, just I had come to terms with the probable destruction of my wine stocks, Matt Frost from French Mortgage Xpress and his carer and wife Viv also appeared and I knew then it was going to be a big day.

Regular readers will know that in situations such as these my faithful blackberry will record many a quip, jest or misplaced comment, which will often result in producing a gem for my research, and today is no exception. Some hilarity was heaped on Matt because of my piece earlier in the week where I had revealed that Matt had been cleaning his fridge and become frustrated that it would not polish up nicely, until I suggested he remove the protective plastic coating that had been in place for 6 years.

Master Mariner Mundell being mundane

I took this picture later in the evening (yes lunch was still going on after dark) when The Master Mariner was keen to see the snowman he had made a few weeks ago which had been nestling in our freezer ever since. He was convinced it was part of an iceberg he had once sailed past, but where lettuce comes into it I cannot really say.

I shall now make my usual Monday morning platitudes (nothing to do with my goatee beard which is developing into something rather splendid) about not drinking and excercising regularly for the next week and refusing any social occasion to ensure that my body resumes its Adonis like stature before we go to Kenya towards the end of the month, but this is in the full knowledge that I expect to fail.

Chris France

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