A Postcard From Withernsea

I had a lovely year manifesting myself through the corporeal form of my nephew Michael. And there is a lot of written material that he needs to get off his arse and start editing into something coherent, like he ruddy well said he would. But just as we were getting into it all he only went and decided that he “needs a little time to think things over.” I turned around to him and said “its funny how quick the milk turns sour, isn’t it? Isn’t it?” And when he couldn’t think of a decent reply, I added “I don’t know about a little time…  You need a little room… For your big head”  Then I poked him in the ribs a couple of times and repeated “Don’t you?” while I did it.

Any road, you are dead a ruddy long time. And I’m not wasting too much of it hanging around waiting for him to get his act together. So I thought that I might as well spend some of it somewhere nice. So I am currently lodging in Withernsea, in the olden days, well before that useless lump of a nephew of mine was born.

But I know that there are a few people missing my pearls of wisdom, and it has been nice to hear from them. So I persuaded him to don the tights once again, just so that I could send you this postcard. Luckily, he still keeps a bottle of sherry on top of the cupboard next to the fridge, so it was worth the effort.

He reckons he will get around to that editing with me some time in the not too distant future, but at the moment, its all about that ruddy silly pop group of his. He is spending all his time  time cataloguing and writing about the 50 songs he has written over the past few years. And he says that he doesn’t need my help with that thank you very much.

Charming! Seeing as I am the one who trained his ruddy fingers to type out five hundred words in less than an hour, and trained his ruddy brain to make sure that at least three hundred of them weren’t complete shite.

And, to add insult to injury, he has decided not to serialise any of that stuff on the internet, because he wants it to have a ruddy impact when he releases it to a world that doesn’t care. He was born too late that one. Hardly anyone bothers reading more than a couple of hundred words at a time these days, not since they invented that ruddy U-bend Tube thing anyway.

Mind you. They come in handy for some things. Like the time my Raymond got drunk and was sick down the toilet. The plumber only managed to fish his dentures out because they got stuck in the U-boat, They were as good as new too, after we had rinsed them out in TCP.

Anyway. My Raymond isn’t staying in Withernsea with me. He’s still pining for that Muriel Dewlap, although I don’t think that she is as interested as she was after she first passed over. Especially now that that Val Doonican has arrived on the scene. Apparently she once had a fling with him whilst he was appearing at the Futurist in Scarborough, and she fancies that he might want to posthumously rekindle the flame. Aye, her and a couple of hundred others. I reckon he has got enough on his plate at the ruddy moment, and he will have rekindled a fair few flames before he gets around to her. If ever.

Any road, I have been enjoying the company of one of them minstrels here at the seaside. And before you ask, no I don’t know what ruddy colour he is because I have never seen him without his makeup on. Not that it makes any difference to me anyway. But he’s a bit shy about things like that. I said to him, I said “I don’t know what your thinking about my baby, it don’t matter if your black or white.” I fancied that ruddy Rudolph Valentino, and he was black AND white.

I got a parcel from a Punch and Judy man from America the other day. Trying to get me to do fortunes again.  It was a ruddy rum looking Tarot pack, and that was in black and white too. I might use it yet. But I’ll probably not serialise it on the ruddy internet because our Michael says that we might run into copyright problems. Mind you If he ever lets me back into the light entertainment industry, then it might come in handy. You never know.

Well, I shall love you and leave you all for now, with these time honoured words…

Having a lovely time… wish you were here.

But don’t go doing “anything stupid” in your haste to join me.

God bless,

Auntie Doris.

Auntie Doris’s Tarot Card of the Week #72 The King of Cups 16th-22nd March 2015

Look at him. He’s been sitting there with his great big cup in one hand and that thing with what looks like a bell on the end in the other, and he has let the ruddy tide come in all around him. But look at his face. He doesn’t seem bothered in the least. I reckon he has done it on purpose. He knows how deep the water is going to be, and he has had that stone platform built with his throne on it, just so that he can sit there for a few hours with the water splashing all around him. And why would he do something like that? Because he’s a ruddy man, that’s why. A slave to his obsessions!

It’s obvious that this one is obsessed by the sea. He has a fish medallion around his neck for a start. And there is probably something nautical about that ruddy silly hat he is wearing. It’s got wavy lines on it at least. And it is also obvious that he doesn’t give a monkey’s what other people think of him, because the hat has ear flaps an’all.

The sea looks pretty ruddy choppy though. There is even a fish that has been thrown above the level of the water, and a ship being tossed about a bit behind him.

I used to hate it when me and Raymond were having a snooze on the beach and the ruddy tide came in. We always used to wake up when our feet got wet, and then you would be gathering your stuff as quick as you could before it got ruined. Newspapers, People’s Friend Magazines, Sandwiches, Finest Virginia Hand Rolling Tobacco… none of them are much use when they are soaked in seawater and covered in sand. Same as tights, they are never the same again when they have had their feet dipped in the sea. You are always going to end up with gritty bits between your toes after that somehow. Even if you put them through a boil wash. If you are going to nod off on the beach, it is always best to settle yourself above the high tide mark if you can. Either that or do it on a tall stone plinth. Then again, in my experience, it is never possibly to get comfy enough to nod off on the top of a tall stone plinth. So there you are.

Any road, like I said. The king of cups has courted the situation, and he looks comfortable enough with his lot. In fact he looks ruddy well serene if you ask me. He might have investments in the cargo of that ship. He might be depending on that fish for a decent meal at the end of the day, he is certainly depending on the tide not coming in any further, but he is not letting any of it stress him out, If he does have a copy of the People’s Friend Magazine, or a few sandwiches, he probably has them tucked away under his cloak in a sealed waterproof bag, and you can bet that he hasn’t got one of them mobilized telephones either, so if anyone wants to get in contact with him and give him anything to worry about. They are just going to have to wait.

Four things that you might do this week. (i) Relax. Be serene. Don’t worry about a thing. ‘Cause every little thing is gonna be alright. Well… in the long run it is, any road. Look at me.. Ive been dead nigh on twenty years and it all came up roses for me. (ii) Have a picnic. It doesn’t have to be on the beach. It doesn’t even have to be outside. You can have it in your car, or in your garden shed, or at a ruddy bus stop. There is something nice about having your sandwiches somewhere different for a change. I would swear that they even taste different. Try it and you’ll see what I mean. (iii) While you are at it, have a snooze somewhere different too. Outside, in your car, in your garden shed, or a ruddy bus stop. Perhaps even in the bath, so long as you are careful not to get yourself drownded or anything. I would swear that it actually feels different, Try at and you’ll see what I mean. If you really can’t nod off, try having three or four small sherries. They usually do the trick. (iv)  Plan to be calm. Its easily done. Disconnect that ruddy telephone, turn the television off. Make as sure as possible that you are not going to be disturbed by high tides, or nosey neighbours, and enjoy a bit of peace. You deserve it. We all do.