Wednesday 2nd October - in praise of milk jugs

We almost never use a milk jug. It's so easy to just slurp some milk out of the bottle or carton or plastic container into a mug or slosh it into a bowl of cereal.

However yesterday morning I unpacked the bag of groceries to discover the plastic milk container had leaked and the bottom of the bag had a shallow lake of milk in it.

The container was still over half full, so along with wiping over the groceries and washing out the bag I decanted the milk into a jug.

'I'll ne manquait que ça,' I muttered under my breath... (I've always roughly translated it to mean 'that's all it needed' but if anyone knows better feel free to add a comment)

I learned the phrase from 'The Diary of a Provincial Lady' by E M Delafield many years ago. It's still a favourite read, and I have it through audible too. (There several two different versions and it's worth listening to the samples of both to decide which you prefer; I chose Georgina Sutton).

So, back to the milk jug; it's just an altogether better experience, pouring milk from a proper, well-designed pint jug. Milk bottles etc are just not as good. The milk alternately dribbles and glugs out, and it's all a bit hit and miss. This morning's breakfast was much improved by using a jug.

So much so that I've ended up blogging about it.

Life is much improved by these and other similar simple trivialities.

My other phrase for when events have caused great annoyance and I really would rather not revert to anglo-saxon is

'Ee, I am vexed'. Another quotation, this time from Albert and the Lion'.

I'm not as fond of the 'Albert and the Lion' monologue, although I do like the couplet, which occurs here in the story;

....

There were one great big lion called Wallace

His nose were all covered with scars

He lay in a somnolent posture

With the side of his face on the bars.

Now Albert had heard about lions

How they was ferocious and wild

To see Wallace lying so peaceful

Well, it didn't seem right to the child.

So straight 'way the brave little feller

Not showing a morsel of fear

Took his stick with its 'orse's 'ead 'andle

And shoved it in Wallace's ear.

You could see the lion didn't like it

For giving a kind of a roll

He pulled Albert inside the cage with 'Im

And swallowed the little lad 'ole

Then Pa, who had seen the occurrence

And didn't know what to do next

Said "Mother! Yon lions 'et Albert"

And Mother said "Well, I am vexed!"

(Albert does re-emerge in Albert's Return')

However I've always enjoyed ,'The Runcorn Ferry', another Stanley Holloway monologue.

The same schoolfriend who taught us 'what a queer bird the frog are' used to recite the monologues to us after lights out...

 'shh, Mrs Taylor's coming; and she would pause the monolgue before continuing when we heard the footsteps receding along the corridor. (We all loathed Mrs Taylor; that she pronounced 'margarine' with a hard 'g' and 'garage' with the emphasis on the second syllable and a soft 'g' were the least of her many irritating affectations). 

Here are the the monologue;

The Runcorn Ferry

On the banks of the Mersey, o'er on Cheshire side,

Lies Runcorn that's best known to fame

By Transporter Bridge as takes folks over t'stream,

Or else brings them back across same.

In days afore Transporter Bridge were put up,

A ferryboat lay in the slip,

And old Ted the boatman would row folks across

At per tuppence per person per trip.

Now Runcorn lay over on one side of stream,

And Widnes on t'other side stood,

And, as nobody wanted to go either place,

Well, the trade wasn't any too good.

One evening, to Ted's superlative surprise,

Three customers came into view:

A Mr and Mrs Ramsbottom it were,

And Albert, their little son, too.

"How much for the three?" Mr Ramsbottom asked,

As his hand to his pocket did dip.

Ted said: "Same for three as it would be for one,

Per tuppence per person per trip."

"You're not charging tuppence for that little lad?"

Said Mother, her eyes flashing wild.

"Per tuppence per person per trip", answered Ted,

"Per woman, per man, or per child".

"Fivepence for three, that's the most that I'll pay",

Said Father, "Don't waste time in talk".

"Per tuppence per person per trip", answered Ted,

"And them, as can't pay, 'as to walk!"

"We can walk, an' all", said Father. "Come Mother,

It's none so deep, weather's quite mild".

So into the water the three of them stepped:

The father, the mother, the child.

The further they paddled, the deeper it got,

But they wouldn't give in, once begun.

In the spirit that's made Lancashire what she is,

They'd sooner be drownded than done.

Very soon, the old people were up to their necks,

And the little lad clean out of sight.

Said Father: "Where's Albert?" And Mother replied:

"I've got hold of his hand, he's all right!"

Well, just at that moment, Pa got an idea

And, floundering back to old Ted, He said:

"We've walked half-way. Come, tak' us the rest

For half-price, that's a penny a head."

But Ted wasn't standing for none of that there,

And, making an obstinate lip,

"Per tuppence per person per trip", Ted replied,

"Per trip, or per part of per trip".

"All right, then", said Father, "let me tak' the boat,

And I'll pick up the others half-way.

I'll row them across, and I'll bring the boat back,

And thruppence in t'bargain I'll pay".

T'were money for nothing. Ted answered: "Right-ho",

And Father got hold of the sculls.

With the sharp end of boat towards middle of stream,

He were there in a couple of pulls.

He got Mother out, it were rather a job,

With the water, she weighed half a ton,

Then, pushing the oar down the side of the boat,

Started fishing around for his son.

When poor little Albert came up to the top,

His collars were soggy and limp.

And, with holding his breath at the bottom so long,

His face were as red as a shrimp.

Pa took them across, and he brought the boat back,

And he said to old Ted on the slip:

"Wilt' row me across by me'sen?" Ted said:

"Aye, at per tuppence per person per trip".

When they got t'other side, Father laughed fit to bust.

He'd got best of bargain, you see.

He'd worked it all out, and he'd got his own way,

And he'd paid nobbut fivepence for three!

Marriott Edgar