My work in the garden was temporarily halted as my presence was required in the kitchen to ‘lick the spoon’.
I take my duties seriously, so the weeding was immediately stopped.
The family tradition of eating the cake before it was even cooked goes back as far as I can remember, which suggests it’s actually a lot longer than that.
It got me thinking about all the ‘in’ things families have and how many ‘in things’ are actually done by other families too.
I suspect that licking the spoon or bowl isn’t exclusively a Fair thing, but if I mention a Taekwondo Buffet or a skeleton found in the ‘itch position’, you’d wonder what on earth I was on about.
When I was little I used to be fascinated by some of the things Mother used to say. She’d comment on the weather by saying – “there’s enough blue up there to make a cat a pair of trousers”.
If my brother and me were misbehaving* she’d say “Cut that out, or I’ll call Icky the Fire Bobby”.
Neither of those phrases have any meaning, yet at the time the logic of the first seemed reasonable, although what it forecast was neither here or there.
The second phrase was delivered as a threat. It was one step down from the most severest of threats, so we had an inkling that she wasn’t too pleased. I have since found out that Icky the Fire Bobby wasn’t a family exclusive. There’s some discussion on the Internet about the origins of Icky the Fire Bobby, from fire sprites to Ken Dodd.
The main threat from Mother was, “I’ll get the wooden spoon”. She never once hit us with it, but the thought of it was enough to make us little angles for a couple of hours at least.
As time passed the wooden spoon threat became silent as all she needed to do was reach for the drawer and we’d scarper.
I’ve been having a play with some whittling techniques. I did a one day wooden spoon making course last year – see, that wooden spoon has haunted me all my life – and I acquired some of the tools required.
I’ll go into that more at a later date, but for now, a word of caution to anyone who thinks that it’s not a dangerous hobby.
There I was happily whittling away when the blade slipped.
Within the blink of an eye my gardening trousers were transformed into designer jeans. Fortunately no skin was damaged in the incident.
There’s enough grey in the sky to make a cat a pair of wellingtons.
The forecast is for three days of light rain showers so gardening may have to take a break.
I’m really pleased with the progress I’ve made over the past few weeks and can’t wait to get back out there again.
There’s still so much work to be done.
Here’s a picture of how it all looks today.
Stay dry and stay safe.
*I actually never misbehaved. I was nearly carrying out instructions from my older brothers, so technically I was behaving.