Tuesday, September 26, 2006

The Adventures of Polly the fiddle faddle

We went to Lulworth today, Jackie and I and (drum roll, please) we climbed this hill. It was a difficult hill. Ivan (my supposedly athletic brother) hardly made it up intact and the last time Jackie went, she was moaning softly. But the two of us, heroes that we are, decided to attempt it anyway (although Jack promised that if I was tired and wanted to rest, or that if I wanted to abandon said enterprise and go on down, she would be OK with that).

But my Malayalee pride was at stake. I silently promised myself that I would keep moaning to a minimum. And that I would keep on keeping on all the way to the top, no matter how crappy I (or Jackie) felt. Of course, as you probably know, it's much harder to resume if you stop halfway up a hill. So we puffed our way upwards, wheezing like steam engines (I think I can, I think I can, I think I can, I think I can, I thought I could, I thought I could, I thought I could, I thought I could, I think I can, I think I can) but did we stop? No sir ree! Not even when snotty woman with child on her way down the hill, laughed at our gasping breaths. Not even when old man with stick in front of us stopped, purportedly to look at the view, but mainly because he wanted to have a rest.

We overtook him.

Then we got to the top, the views were stunning and we plumped ourselves on soft grass, took in the deep aquamarine waters, the hills all round ("That's Weymouth, I'm sure that's Weymouth, no wait a minute, that's Portland, OK, Portland...") and Jackie decided to take forty winks and I decided to read my Jane Austen biography.

The blessed silence was punctuated by my occassionally excited exclamations:

"Aiya, Warren Hastingslar, not Clive of India."

"Hey, you know ah, Jane Austen's aunt was very independent..."

"Hmmm, her father had an evil stepmother..."

To which Jackie would reply: "Jennifer! Stop telling me about it. I want to read for myself...you know ah, in an ideal world we would be reading the same book at exactly the same time, so there would be none of this bocor rahsiaing..." (letting the cat out of the bag)

Then I had my Kit Kat (Jackie didn't want hers) and the wind was up and the seagulls and crows flew overhead and there were some people around us and we had a short conversation about breaking wind in airplanes.

Then we tried to go to Tyneham, but apparently the village was closed so we went up to Creech Point and put up chairs (Jackie and Simon have these really cool fold-up chairs in the boot) and read our respective books (she was reading the Wodehouse biography which is also really cool)...and we looked at the rolling hills spread out all around, a glimpse of the sea, also the sheep and cows in the field and Jackie said the scene spread out before us reminded her of the Shire (if you don't know which Shire, brush up on your Tolkien, my brave hobbits) and then I got a headache due to excessive exposure to the sun and we got into the car and found a shortcut home. Part of the shortcut involved a journey on a tiny road:

Jackie: Look at this road...so small, am never gonna listen to you again.

Me: Aiya, it is only 5 miles to Wareham on this road, it shortens our journey lar!

And then we arrived home semi-merrily and she made me scones and we had tea in their Royal Albert fine bone china and tried to crook our little fingers as we raised the pretty tea cups to our lips and sipped appreciatively.

"Darjeeling, old girl?"

"No thank you dear, I prefer Lapsang..."

Now she is on the sofa reading her book. And I will join her shortly reading mine.

Jackie once said that her tombstone will read:

"Mourners not welcome: I just want to read my book!"

Can you see the family resemblance?

9 comments:

Nessa said...

Sounds like a great day.

Charlene Amsden said...

It sounds like a perfect day of bonding! Exercise, good company, fresh air, great views, time for a good book ... what more could one want?

Once two of my sisters and I were all reading the same book at the same time -- and I do mean the SAME book. The moment one of us put it down, another would grab it. Then my sister Jackie through a fir and said it was her book and her house and we had to leave it be!

Jenn said...

Nessa: It was.

Quilly: Hmmm, am not sure how we would react if we were reading literally the same book at the same time...I meant copies of course, copies of the same book at the same time. (Kinda cool that we both have sisters called Jackie)

Anonymous said...

Really nice entry!

I think the one time I ever shared a book - as in: a simultaneous read - was when my sister and I couldn't wait for the other to finish the latest Harry Potter. Happened quite diplomatically, except when I couldn't resist talking about what happened in the next chapter - I'm terrible like that.

Yeees, I like Harry Potter books...:p

Anonymous said...

We are sad now you are gone.Airport was so quick.Just had some yummy pudding though.Jackie sat on sofa reading her book till I heard the tapping keys and realisation dawned that you were on a plane and therefore werent responsible for the sound.I think simon is on the road to recovery now that he's had some pudding.

furyouhin said...

i'm just agog by the notion that an entire village was closed...heh. sounds twilight zoneish. but the day sounds fantastic.

Grey Shades said...

Mal pride? LOL! :) Loved that tombstone inscription! I think i'm gonna make mine something like, "If you can make out the shade of this tombstone then you know who I was"...

Andrew said...

Stupid question, but I'm going to ask it anyway. Was this in England? Some of my most memorable experiences when I was in England happened to be activities that I wouldn't have given a second thought back home that became so much more overseas. As always, good writing, good post.

Jenn said...

Back in the saddle again, am back in the saddle again...lalalalala

Ling: Thank you. See, this is why we all have to have our separate Harry Potters and be in different places (literally different countries) when reading it. That way we don't let the cat out of the bag...

Jackie and Simon: You two are priceless! Glad you have yummy pudding to comfort you... I have slept intermittently since I called you and only woke up at noon today to the news that my bag is, as yet, unfound. I had such a great time there, so thank you, thank you, thank you. (My legs can still feel Lulworth)

Fury: I can understand your confusion as I didn't make it clear. Tyneham is not a working village. It was comandeered by the army sometime in the 1940s and was left as is, falling to pieces. It is open on weekends for people to go along and browse through (interesting since it is sort of a piece out of the past) but we didn't know this. So, instead, we sat near Tyneham, on Creech Point, and heard the guns go off and the occasional roar of the cannon. At least, I think it was a cannon. It may have been something else.

Grey: Hiya! I think your tombstone would be purple with dark yellow splotches...you're way too colourful for a grey one!

Andy: Yes, jolly old England. I remember you saying you stayed at Bath, right?