Memories are made of this...

 

While rummaging around in my shed today for a length of twine, I noticed a container jutting out at an odd angle from a high shelf on the back wall. I moved closer and could see it was a cardboard box, hidden by the webs of time and spiders alike...I lifted it down, amidst a swirl of dust which had clearly remained undisturbed for years. And though I'd forgotten its existence, my first, tentative huff an' puff cleared the lid enough for me to make out the faded word 'Mementos.'

Of course! Amongst the odd assortment of postcards, photographs and letters lay this faded cutting from our local newspaper. What a pity the photographer hadn't waited long enough for my Ada, in all her bridal finery, to climb into the car, on her way to marry the luckiest man in the world, that day...   

Thanks to Fireblossom and The Sunday Muse for nudging me to remember...

Monday's Child

...is fair of face, according to an old rhyme, which makes me believe that I, Caddoc, wasn't born on a Monday, for sure! Nevertheless, beauty is not the be all and end all, folks.

A modicum of kindness and an open mind may, perhaps, make up for any shortfall in the beauty stakes. Here's hoping my Ada comes into that category...

I've not seen her for an hour or two, since I've been in my shed, cogitating...

Her snapshot is pinned to the inside of the door...  

Thinks:-I wonder if it's safe for me to go  in search of an afternoon cuppa yet?

 

All change, all change!

 That's a cry that brings to mind days from my youth.  Whenever a local train broke down,  passengers had to be winkled out of their comfy carriages and re-instated in a less salubrious bus or coach to finish their journey. Ah, me! What jolly fun...

In these ever changing days of Covid19 lockdowns, taking any means of transport becomes more of a military operation. "Masks on!"..."Keep your distance!"... "Don't travel unless it's an absolute necessity!"

I don't wonder that Ada and Cad have barricaded themselves into Trellis Manor, relying on Food Parcels donated by their local Squire. However, he is by no means as generous as this kind gesture might imply. 

Last week, the Trellis kitchen was the scene of many a ruckus, as Ada attempted to make edible dishes from unusual ingredients such as pigs trotters, bean sprouts, two pounds of homegrown windfall apples (maggots included) and a pack of nine toilet rolls with three already removed...

And tomorrow is another day. Happily, it will be a whole hour shorter in the UK, as Time is given short shrift due to the Daylight Saving procedure of turning clock hands counter clockwise at 2 a.m. until dials register  1 a.m. on their shocked little faces. The whole country (and not a lot of people know this) is full of people who sit clockwatching, wide awake, until the appointed hour arrives. And if you believe that, you will believe anything.

September with no Serenade?

 I'd serenade the world if I, Trellissimo, could only appear once more to find out how Caddoc and Ada are dealing with Covid19 lockdown! :-)

Alive and Well?!

I'm happy to report that Ada and Caddoc are still ongoing, but have been too busy to take time out to relate more of their Marital Mayhem moments. With the autumnal weather encroaching upon their Fun in the Sun lives in which they indulge whenever the sun shines, who knows?  They may decide to do more blogging instead, as an alternative winter sport?!
Watch this space...

What year is this?

Now, that's the sort of question I could believe, if it was being put to a spaceman returning to Earth! But I guess I can lose days, weeks, months or even years, sitting in my shed, in quiet contemplation of my Beloved Ada.
So if anyone asks me such a silly question, I shall give them short shrift...

Caddoc to the world - I am not dead!
I love  you all - especially Ada...

THEY'RE BACK!

Great News, Folks!   My friends Ada and Caddoc Trellis have broken a long silence to tell me about a recent little adventure, prompted by Tess Kincaid's picture at Magpie Tales No. 285

Ada had taken a trip to the West -

poor Caddoc, alone,  -  felt bereft.

Until...

"Yes!" Caddoc cried, and rolled out of bed.

"While Beloved's away, I'll refurbish my shed!

I'll visit IKEA, perhaps B&Q

and with planking and paint I will show all of you

I'm not just a gard'ner, I'm a carpenter too!"

So he sawed and he planed and he painted and nailed

and much he attempted and in nothing failed,

'til his shed had new gables and windows and doors

and some tourists who passed cried as one "Zut Alors!"

while Caddoc, inside, gazing out with a smirk

thought "At last, a real shed! It was worth all the work!"

But Ada, returning, couldn't hide her delight. 

"That looks sooooo cosy,  you can stay there all night!"

(LIke old times, folks. Seems Caddoc can't win.)

We'll Gloss Over This One, I think...

Ada had never used lip gloss before...
Now she pouted up there with the best!
But her lips grew so sore
that it took pills galore
before she could get a night's rest!


Of course, she only got the idea from Tess and her Mag 222!

The Morning After

Ada and Caddoc had partied all night, to fall into bed with the dawn, and when they eventually opened their eyes, they couldn't but help feel forlorn.

The bed clothes were rumpled and all of a heap (I won't mention the mess on the floor). Neither Ada nor Caddoc could even begin to guess what had happened before...
Had a tornado struck?
Had they both run amok?
Was the bottle of whiskey to blame for the way their heads pounded and nothing stood still? Had the world spun and addled their brains?

N.B. I think A & C may have been having one long party session ever since 2013. Must be the hovering scent of Spring in the air that has tempted them, and me, out of our shells.

Apologies to Tracey and Tess for the effect Magpie Tales' prompt had on the Trellis household this week.

What A Charmer

Ada can drive me up the wall but I thought it only right that she modelled for this mural. Ain't she a winsome sight?

I could've placed her on a pedestal, the way that lovers do...but " I will not squat on porcelain, not even, Cad, for you " said Ada in her sharpest tones, which made me think anew- so I've drawn her in a treetop crown.

"Forgive me, Ada dearest, for when you've simmered down, you'll realise I put you there 'cause you're way above the best, and will charm the birdies from the trees!" 

And there my case shall rest.

Inspired by The Mag, where Tess gave us artwork by Jeanie Tomanek to get our juices flowing.

Did She Fall Or Was She Pushed?

Caddoc arose from his bed with a scream. "Beloved, I've had a most terrible dream. O, Ada, my Ada I saw you outside the window! I thought you had gone for a ride on the wing of a bi-plane but had taken a header and fallen to Earth - you couldn't be deader as you landed below in a blood splattered heap..."

"Caddoc, you ninny, I've been fast asleep beside you for hours, not walking on wings. What makes you think up such terrible things? Must be the cheese you ate for your supper?
Now snuggle back down and don't be a duffer!"

Tess gave us more food for thought today with her Mag which featured a photo by Elena Kalis.

Olé !

We'd gone and bought tickets for some local hop to be held in our village hall - the kind of occasion where everyone goes, the long and the short and the tall; the young and the old and the fit and the lame - all welcomed, and everyone treated the same... 

But Ada and Caddoc, I'm certain you've guessed, would add their own spice to the mix- "We'll dress in our Spanish-type costumes. We can dance a wild tango, for kicks!" Caddoc cringed at the thought of the spangles and lace, but manfully plastered a grin on his face.
" Beloved, I'll follow you where'er you lead, but I beg you to keep it polite, for tango's, if danced with abandon, can be a right turn on. All right?" 

" Caddoc", cried Ada, " Just finish your drink - sometimes it's best that you don't stop to think!"

Written for the Mag 181, with thanks to Tess and apologies to Toulouse-Lautrec .

Unhand Me, You Cad!

"We've always," quoth Ada, "been drawn to each other. But sometimes I think he treats me like his mother; and some days I think I'll go out of my head unless he slopes out to lounge in his shed with his droopy sad face like a wee bloodhound pup; he’ll hide there while I wash the breakfast things up!

(And don't you agree, come now, won't you confess, his hat is a terrible, terrible mess?)

But then he'll come in and he'll creep up behind and I must pretend that I really do mind how his left and his right hands unerringly know the very two places where they should not go!

So I always pretend to be stern and severe and cry "You great Welsh lummox, less of that here!" And then he says "If not there, where then, my dear?" as he smiles his daft smile and gives me a cuddle, knowing he’ll soon throw my thoughts in a muddle till I’ll give him a kiss, and forgive him his hat. Now tell me, could you resist chat-ups like that?"

Cad's hands took a slightly different approach from Escher's... but thanks go to Tess and her Mag for the image.