TheBanyanTree: I hate Bank Holidays

[John Bailey]

Monday May 2, 2005

I HATE BANK HOLIDAYS

"What on earth are you doing?" Graham demanded when he found me pulling out 
the entire contents of the fridge. I'd already done the same with the freezer.

"Well, believe it or not, I seem to have run out of bread. And on a Bank 
Holiday Monday, too."

"That could easily be a court martial offence."

"Yes. I know. And there isn't time to bake a loaf before lunch, either."

"What will you do?"

"I shall have to see what's on offer in Spilsby. Unless you could be 
persuaded to pop over to Skegness for fish and chips, a large, drippy 
ice-cream cone and a stroll along the prom?"

"Nope. Sorry. I have to cut the grass."

As the put-put-putter of the lawn mower started up and long neat lines 
began to appear on the back lawn, I drove off in search of bread. I got 
some. Not our usual kind of bread because all they had left was sliced 
white, but I did get bread. As I drove home I contemplated the wrapped loaf 
of Hovis Crusty White on the seat beside me and wondered what the hell I 
could do with it to make it even partially attractive.

I toyed with the idea of making bacon-and-Daddie's-brown-sauce sarnies but 
in the end I opted for a slightly more healthy alternative. So, when I got 
home, I reverted to a good old-fashioned British sandwich recipe, 
hard-boiled eggs, thin sliced tomatoes, and I assembled two rounds each of 
egg-and-tomato, fresh ground black pepper, hold the mayo.

"That was suprisingly tasty," Graham said. "And satisfying, too."

"Thanks."

"What's for dinner?"

"Thick carved ham, bubble-and-squeak and your choice of green vegetable 
from the freezer."

"I'd rather have baked beans with it."

"Sorry. I've run out of baked beans."

"It's your day for running out of things, isn't it," Graham observed.

"Yup. I hate Bank Holidays."


--

John Bailey   Lincolnshire, England

journal of a writing man:
<http://www.oldgreypoet.com>