Spooky new tat

g8I suppose it’s not as if I could argue that I didn’t know what I was getting myself into. I knew from the beginning of our relationship that Heather had a penchant for useless old tat. Actually, worse than that, useless new tat. It’s one thing to go around charity shops and purchase things that might conceivably one day make it on to the Antiques Road show. It’s quite another to buy rubbish that was on a factory production line only last week. Our tin tractor wine holder being a case in point.

When Heather first moved in she brought with her – her fridge. I already had a perfectly serviceable fridge and we didn’t need two, but even if that hadn’t been the case, I’ve no idea what put it into Heather’s head that I would countenance the item that rolled off the removal van.

Singing panda fridge
Singing panda fridge

It was a panda fridge. I can’t possibly describe it but I’ve found a picture of one on the internet. Here it is look. Every time you opened the door it played a selection of nursery rhymes, and my heart went out to ‘The Man with a Van’ who said it had been playing “Baa Baa bloody black sheep in the back of my van all bloody day. If it had been where I could reach it we would have delivered to you first.”

I made it plain to Heather that it was either the fridge or me, and she reluctantly sold it on Ebay to someone clearly devoid of all their faculties.

So this brings us to Halloween. We were in Morrison’s on Sunday and Heather picked up a ‘Graveyard Set’ and placed it in the trolley. Admittedly on later inspecting her receipt she was aghast to discover that it had set her back £12.95, but not aghast enough to take it back.  I was at Slimming World on Tuesday evening and then I had an appointment afterwards, so I arrived home later than usual. Heather was at our front window busying herself with said Graveyard Set. I’ve mentioned before that any difficulty she encounters she immediately turns it on to me and makes it my difficulty.

“I need scissors.” I really wanted to crack on with making the tea but I found the scissors in the hope that this would shut her up. Not a chance.

“I need string.” We didn’t have any string but a substitute was located.

 “Have we any sellotape?”

Then I could hear an on-going battle with Elsie.

“Elsie, No! Elsie, get down. Elsie I am NOT telling you again.”

Elsie is our cat, and she can’t seriously be expected to resist the temptation of artificial cobwebs and rubber spiders. The fact that they weren’t actually cat toys and she wasn’t supposed to have them made their lure even stronger.

Further annoyance was generated by a passer-by;

“That man is laughing at me, he’s pointing and laughing.”

“He’d have laughed even more if he knew you’d paid £12.95.”

While trying to prepare tea I realised that I’d forgotten a major ingredient and a drive to Morrison’s was needed. Heather came too and quickly got her eye on more tat, a plastic skull.

 “Have you seen that skull? It’s bigger than the one I’ve got, should I get that one too do you think?”


On our way back up to the car park in the lift I suddenly remembered about Slimming World earlier on in the evening, and the trouble our consultant Tracey had gone to with her Halloween theme.

“Mind you Tracey had an excellent Halloween display tonight, ” I remarked in a conversational tone, then I realised what I’d said. If I’d had a gun I would have shot myself in the head with it there in the elevator. What a stupid stupid thing for me to say.

“What better than mine?”

“No no of course not, I just meant that it was very good.” (It was much better actually).

“Well was it as good as mine?”

“Absolutely nowhere near,” I lied.

“Well I’m going back to get that skull.” 

Our front window as it stands, but there could be more ……..

So here is a photograph of our display so far, no doubt it will be added to between now and Friday. If you are in need of a Graveyard Set, might I suggest that you pick one up in Morrison’s on Saturday morning by which time they will be remaindered at 50p.

Tracey’s Ryton Slimming World      

Morrison’s Blaydon