Another Award?

I’m not sure how it happened but my name has been mentioned in connection with an award. As you will know I am of modest stock, awards and plaudits rarely make my list of ambitions, and I always tell people when such matters are raised that my mantelpiece is full enough with pictures of those l love thank you, and to place an award there I would have to remove one of my ‘friends’ and replace them with a trinket.

Of course this would cause irreparable damage should said person visit my abode unexpectedly, seeing their visage has been transferred from the hallowed altar of the room to the bookcase. Conversely, though, they might be quite pleased I had segregated them for special treatment away from what they may regard as ‘the rabble’. I can’t choose anyone not of European origin, obviously, that would be making a statement which I choose not to endorse. And I don’t want to move a woman because, again, that would lead to an expression of view I abhor.  Age is also a factor, too old and they may think they are being virtually put in a home, albeit between Mrs Beeton and a rather excellent compendium of Rattigan, too young and people will think I am patronising the youth of the business. Height, weight and general demographic all have to be taken into account. And Richard Griffiths is just barely out of the building so I can’t remove him. This delicate and attention-to-detail matter is something I need to consider, and consider it well, for one wrong decision at this juncture could cost me dear. Ostracised from the acting fraternity, forced to wander the darkness, lost, broke and without the hope of a decently written grandfather or dark menacing priest being put my way. The consequences of an incorrect decision are too terrible to contemplate. I’ve seen Casualty.

I shall today call Dancy, my interior designer for some advice on my mantlepeice conundrum. A marvellous young man, who can see faults a mile off and correct them with a wave of his handkerchief.

I shouldn’t, of course, count all my chickens before they have actually laid eggs, although I don’t see why I shouldn’t have a reasonable chicken to egg ratio. Any farmer will tell you that you need yield, you need enough eggs to sell in order that your chickens are actually worthwhile your investment, otherwise you are simply wasting money on seed for them, and they are taking you for a ride. And no farmer wants to be scammed by a hen.

I think perhaps my pills are kicking in now.