Hello again Jammy Toasters. I have returned again this month to spill more beans on my friendship with Miss Chimpton and this month, I thought I would tell you the story of the infamous Rubber Tree Plant. I consider this to be the high point of my friendship with Miss “C” and can I add that I was not hurt by what she said. I think she feels guilty for coming out with what she did but, in fact, it is probably one of the funniest things anyone has ever said to me. Also, before we all accuse her of being nasty, it is worth mentioning that she was – at the time – higher than either Jay or Silent Bob have ever been.
The Chimpton and I were chatting the other day, when we touched upon the subject of some of the stories I have posted recently concerning my Grandparents. While we were chatting, I remembered a story my Grandfather had told me years ago about his time in the fire brigade during the blitz of World War II. As a youngster, I would spend weekends at his house being totally spoilt and listening to some of the stories he would tell me about his life – the stories were even more interesting when my Grandmother was out of earshot. The stories he told me from his youth in Oldham and his years running a shop in Birkenhead were always enthralling but I think my favourites were the stories from the war. It always makes me laugh when I watch Only Fools And Horses on the telly because every time Uncle Albert mentions the phrase, “During the war…” everyone runs for cover fearing another of his war-time stories. I was the complete opposite and could listen to my Grandfather for hours.
We seem to be getting all nostalgic this week here on Jammy Toast, remembering days from my youth spent getting into mischief with my Grandfather. So, today, I thought I would continue in that vein and tell you the story of Auntie Beryl. At the start of the Second World War, my grandparents ran a fishmonger and greengrocery shop in Birkenhead. My Grandfather was also a reserve fireman which meant he was not constricted into the army because his was a reserved occupation. Because my grandfather and grandmother were both at home during the war years they didn’t want their daughter, Beryl, evacuated to Wales as part of operation Pied Piper. This was despite Birkenhead being bombed heavily by the Germans because it was home to Cammell Lairds and other industry contributing towards the war effort.
Both Bimbo and I have told stories on Jammy Toast previously about my Grandfather. We have also told you how we called him “Da” because my mother called him “Dad” and I was too young to pronounce “Dad”. The poor guy was called “Da” for the remainder of his life. I have also told the story of our Saturday afternoons spent eating steak and kidney pudding and chips from the chippy out of the paper – much to my Grandmother’s annoyance – followed by a rum baba and washed down with glasses of “full-fat” Coca-Cola and a good read of the Tiger comic. Bimbo has also told the story of how – for a short time, anyway – we thought Da was a gangster. However, the one thing we have never told you was that he was also a big fat liar. Let me explain…
Granny has been single for quite a few years now. Her second husband, Tommy, (my step-dad) died a few years ago and – I think we have mentioned this before – he has pride of place on Jammy Toast’s landing. Granny can’t decide what to do with his ashes. She was going to take him to New Brighton, where he used to enjoy fishing back in the day, but every time she gets round to it she starts to question whether it is the right place for him. That, or she just simply forgets to take him. So there he has sat for many years on the landing, awaiting his final destination.
Hello to all the regular Jammy Toasters, I feel like I know you all already but you may not know me. So the first thing I would like to do is introduce myself to you all. I am an old friend of Davidd and his bears and, as some of you may have noticed from the venom that passes back and forth, I am also an acquaintance of Miss Chimpton’s. Now Miss “C” doesn’t always like me very much because I have what she calls a “Wonky Donkey” and maintains that if we ever meet she would walk the other way pretending that she didn’t know me. There are a few other problems Miss “C” has with me but this is mostly to do with the fact I need a haircut, my glasses are old and I am getting fat because my exercise routine is getting rather lax.
In a couple of posts recently we have suggested that The Chimpton is Vietnamese. She has strong Asian features and one of Jammy Toast’s readers has even mistaken her for an Asian Ladyboy. So, bearing this in mind, we decided it was time to reveal the truth concerning the origin of The Chimpton. Where she came from, how she ended up here at Jammy Toast and why the British Government have not sent her home, yet. Today we will reveal the truth…