Boo's Reviews| The Shadow of the Wind

The Shadow of the Wind
by Carlos Ruis Zafón

Barcelona, 1945: A city slowly heals in the aftermath of the Spanish Civil War, and Daniel, an antiquarian book dealer’s son who mourns the loss of his mother, finds solace in a mysterious book entitled The Shadow of the Wind, by one Julián Carax. But when he sets out to find the author’s other works, he makes a shocking discovery: someone has been systematically destroying every copy of every book Carax has written. In fact, Daniel may have the last of Carax’s books in existence. Soon Daniel’s seemingly innocent quest opens a door into one of Barcelona’s darkest secrets--an epic story of murder, madness, and doomed love.
[Synopsis taken from Goodreads]

This is an absolute beast of a book! It reminds me of my beloved Book Thief but it took me a bit longer to get into. This is why I've only awarded it 4 stars on Goodreads.

It may be because I've been pretty tired with work but I just wasn't able to engage with the story at first. I was intrigued and was enjoying it but it just seemed like an effort to read the first few chapters. I think this is one of those books that you want read on holiday or when you have some downtime because you won't be able to give much of your attention to, say, sleeping or eating.

However, once you have the time to properly connect with it, this is one of those stories that reaches into your soul and seems to require your emotional investment. Once you are into the story, you won't be able to put it down. I was walking round like a ghost for about a week, living in 1940s Barcelona... and I still feel a little haunted a week after finishing it!

It is perhaps not the most light-hearted of books but I know that this is one of those stories that will stay with me and will always inspire me; it will form part of the fabric of my own imaginings until my brain becomes old and mushy. Yeah...I really liked it.

25 Random Things About Me

Hello dear readers. I have been away for most of the summer enjoying the stunning weather but I'm back... to let you know...I can really shake 'em down!

*Ahem*. I mean... I'm back.

In the spirit of getting to know each other a little better, I have decided to include my first meme (dundundunnn). So here are 25 "Random Facts" about moi:

1) I really HATE moths. They are butterflies FROM HELL.

Found on Google Images - No credit taken!

2) We used to have to drink milk in primary school and it was always slightly warm and smelt awful. This has pretty much put me off milk for life. I tolerate the smallest amount in my tea and on my Weetabix.

3) I am named after the midwife that delivered me. I think Mum & Dad thought I was going to be a boy and, when it turned out I wasn't, they were like "Oh err quick think of a girl's name...Rebekah that'll do!". That's right RebeKAH. It's Hebrew. No, I'm not Jewish. My parents just like the way it's written in the Bible. Yes. It IS annoying when people think it's funny to call me REBE-KAH-Kah-kah a la Shooting Stars...

4) I am technically what you might call "hirsute". To my dismay I discovered this when I saw an interview with a woman on a dodgy Channel 5 documentary and realised that we were as hairy as each other - except that she was being deliberately lax with the topiary in order to charge questionable characters lots of money to nuzzle her armpits. Maybe I'm missing a trick but I think I'll carry on with my bald monkey act for now... At least I know I've got something I can fall back on!

5) I bang my head almost daily. The routine goes something like this: Open bathroom wall cabinet, retrieve toothbrush, start to brush teeth, bend down to open cupboard under the sink, stand-up and crack head on corner of bathroom cabinet door. I have tried to move things around so I don't have to get things from under the sink but that just makes me bang my head somewhere else at some other point in the day. I've therefore made the conscious decision, since I am obviously destined to sustain this sort of daily injury, to at least exercise what little control I have over my immediate future by allowing my head to be hit in the same place each time. Logic shmogic...

6) I cry. A lot. At the slightest sign of distress to a fictional character, human or otherwise, I am blubbing like a baby. As you can imagine, Les Mis nearly killed me.

7) I love my job. I'm a ...wait for it..."Business Development Manager" - posh eh? I sell factory machines business-to-business. It may not sound like much but it's fun, challenging, a bit weird, and I'm a real geek about it.

8) I think lamb tastes like sheep smell. That's why I don't eat it.

9) I'm fluent in French and Spanish.

10) Wet cling film weirds me out. Don't ask me how I know this...

11) I love cheese so much that I used to just eat it off the block but I had to stop doing it when I moved in with my boyfriend because it turns out a random fact about him is that he hates finding bite marks in the cheese. Who knew?

12) I love sleeping. I do not subscribe to the whole "but you'll waste the day" theory. It is NOT a waste of a day if sleeping is how you intended to spend your time.

13) I will never tire of watching FRIENDS.

14) I got an E in my Electronics GCSE. We had to choose a technology subject at GCSE level because my senior school was a Technology College. I was banned from Mrs B's sewing room because I broke a needle on one of the sewing machines. (She seemed incredibly unsympathetic to the fact that the way I broke this needle was by accidentally sewing it through my finger!). Mrs Heinz's (no joke - that was her name) Food Tech class was boring and I couldn't draw so thought Graphics would be a nightmare. As for woodwork - well would you let me loose with a saw? Didn't think so. I was left in a class of 5 boys in Electronics. They were all very clever, computery types. I was mostly able to get them to help me solder stuff in class but on the exam paper, there was no saving me. I got 12 marks out of 120 and those were for colouring-in (designing a package for a torch). Maybe I should have done Graphics after all...

15) I would love to travel more but when I had the time, I didn't have the money and now I have more money but no time!

16) I would love to get a dog when the Boy and I have our own house. The landlady would have a fit if we kept one in our current flat!

My BF wants us to get a dog like this one.

17)  I was genuinely quite disappointed when I reached 11 and did not receive my letter from Hogwarts.

18) I would love to write a book one day but have no fudging clue what to write about. Until then, you'll just have to put up with me writing silly crap on T'internet.

19) I once sang a solo in front of the Commodore of the Royal Navy. I was a Sea Cadet and when I was about 15 I went on a summer camp at Britannia Royal Naval College. I volunteered to sing in the choir whilst I was there and the Vicar asked if I would like to sing on my own instead. I sang a lovely little church number which I called "As The Deer Pants" because the first line is "As the deer pants for the water so my soul longs after you...". I think most people called it "As The Deer".

20) I own a lot of lipsticks and am forever buying more!

21) Christmas is my FAVOURITE time of year. Both my Sister and I get almost unhealthily obsessive about presents and decorations and the tree etc. etc. Hannah even goes as far as demanding everyone stick to a strict dress code of silly woolly jumpers.

22) I love surprises. Nice ones, obvs.

23) I am told that I turn into a petulant 5-year-old when I'm tired.

24) I wish I could walk in heels with a modicum of grace. But I can't.

25)  The best advice I have ever heard is "just keep swimming" - Dory - Finding Nemo.

BONUS RANDOM FACT
My brother has reminded me of another random fact...
I have 3 younger siblings: the aforementioned sister and 2 brothers. They are all darlings, especially the brothers. I will be writing a post very soon on the unfathomable pleasures of having younger brothers... so stay tuned for that!

Okay, that's me done for the day. Tell me a random fact about you in the comments!

Tomorrow we will be talking about books.

Ciao for niao!

How to get 4 people into a Leyland Mini...

The Leyland Mini - enough to bring a tear to a manboy's eye.

http://www.minionlinemuseum.com/images

Following a recent study conducted by myself and 3 friends, allow me to advise you on the best way to get into (and out of) these sardine tins.

1) Remove all loose items from the car.

2) Remove all objects from your pockets.

3) Remove/ loosen all tight-fitting clothing.

4) Appoint the 2 people who will be sitting in the back, whom we shall call Passengers 1 and 2.

5) Open all the car doors.

6) Fold both front seats down as far as possible which you should find is approximately 7 centimetres.


Passenger 1

7) Raise one leg.

8) Stretch it out in front of you and hop towards the door of the side that you are intending to get in.

9) Wiggle your leg over as far as it will go to the opposite side.

10) When you have that one leg in, bend at the waist and touch your nose to your knees.

11) Use your hands to steady yourself and ease your head, shoulders and arse in through the door frame.

12) Sit down on the back seat.

13) Unfurl yourself so that you are sitting with your bum on the seat, one leg inside the car, one leg outside the car.

14) Retrieve your other leg from outside the car.

15) There will be nowhere to put your other leg inside the car so you will have to curl it around the seat in front of you, between the door and the front seat.

16) Congratulations, you're in - check all your vital signs and that you are still in possession of all your main faculties - touch, sight, hearing, etc.

Now laugh unkindly as you watch Passenger 2 repeat steps 7 - 16.

Passenger 2
Repeat steps 7 - 16.

Passengers 1 & 2
Once you are both in, you are likely to feel hot and, depending on how well your loosened trousers have held up and how well you know each other,  a little embarrassed.

Do not worry. This is completely normal. Simply grit your teeth, smile and avert your eyes.

Passenger 3
It's your turn...

17) CAREFULLY fold the 2 front seats back up. (I think "fold" is probably the wrong word since they don't go down far enough to be "folded" but you know what I mean).

18)  Following much the same method as Passengers 1 and 2, you're going to need to aim as though your planning to put your "junk" in the glove box.

19) When you have fully aligned yourself with the glove box, jerk your pelvis backward and bring your knees up until your butt finds the seat.

20) Then gingerly settle back into the enveloping thighs of the passenger behind you.

Top Tip: Fold your arms because the driver is about to get in and you will suddenly find you have nowhere safe to put them.

Finally, it's time for the Driver to take his position...

Driver
21) You will need to return all the items that the Passengers removed from their pockets and persons. That way you can be sure that they will have the 20p they will need to pay you for the petrol.

22) You will also need to replace all the loose items that were removed from the car in Step 1. You will need to store these items in the remaining nooks and crannies, if you can find any, around your Passengers. Often times, you may need to make use of each Passenger's lap, hands, shoulders and possibly even mouths.

Top Tip: When selecting your Passengers try, where possible, to find thin people with a tiny bit of podge which can cushion them from the objects which will undoubtedly end up being packed around them. 

23) GENTLY close all the doors except the one on the Driver's side.

24) Follow a similar method to Passenger 3, this time aiming your crotch toward the steering wheel.

25) Once in, make sure that you can reach all the pedals.

I say "reach"...reaching them should not be a problem as such, it's more the angle at which your feet are when you try to press them. At the very least, please make sure you can successfully, and with minimal discomfort, press the brake pedal. It is unlikely that you will need to use the brake pedal all that much because most of the time, it will be enough for each of your passengers to simply extend a hand through the window and "paddle" in the opposite direction.

Oh wait - you can't open the back windows?

Brake it is then...

26) Check that everyone is still able to breathe.

27) Close your car door.

28) Waggle the gear stick. I don't know why. I don't drive. This is just something that I see my Dad do before he turns the engine on.

29) ALL PASSENGERS: I hope you feel that you know each other a little better by now because the next step is a little intimate. You are going to need to explore the flesh of the person next to you in order to find the socket for your seat belt, if you are lucky enough to be given the option of having one.

Passenger 3 and the Driver may be lucky enough not to have to dig around in the other person's flesh but don't count on it.

30) Check that you are all able to breathe and agree never to mention how cosy you all got.

Commence countdown, engines on. Off you go...

Further Tips for your Journey
DO NOT lean into corners.

DO be as lightweight as possible.

DO bring a snorkel with you so that you can more effectively suck in air through the gap in the back window.

DO sit on a hemorrhoid pillow to try and combat getting booted up the backside every few seconds by what is laughably called "The Suspension".

DO strap another hemorrhoid pillow to your head for the same reason. The roof of the car is very low!

DO NOT fart!

And finally...

REMEMBER: What happens in the Mini, STAYS in the Mini! 

An Open Letter to Daniel (Sodding) Bryan

Picture the scene. You're in bed, the lights are low, you've got the music on, you've had a steamy hot shower, you've even done the BIG SHAVE (you know what I'm talking about ladies!). The scene is set for some seeerrioouss Business Time. Sometime later, you hear...

"YES! YES! YES!"

Don't get me wrong, most women would be proud to hear this repeated affirmation and, in other circumstances, I probably would be too. But my Significant Other isn't even in the room!

What's he doing?

Gaying it up over Daniel (Sodding) Bryan.

Giving the unprecedented strength of feeling that my boyfriend has for this (*checks Wikipedia*) "one-time World Heavyweight Champion in WWE", I decided to write a letter of appeal to the man himself...

Here goes:

Brighton

18/07/13

Dear Mr Bryan, 

It has recently come to my attention that you have seemingly won the affections of my long-term Boyfriend by doing nothing more admirable than pretending to fight men in pants. 

Whilst this is not necessarily a reason to blame you for all that is wrong in the world, it is good enough reason - let's face it, I'm a woman, I don't need much of a reason - to have a good ol' whinge about you and that ridiculous "sport" that is WWE (*shudder*). 

I shall now list the detrimental effects that you, Daniel Bryan (nee, Bryan Danielson - I see what you did there with that stage name - very clever!), have had on my lifestyle (with specific but non-explicit reference to the allotted Business Time). 

1) In an effort to convince me that WWE is, and I quote, "genius" I was forced to watch a disturbing scene not even worthy of the worst Eastenders' plot line, in which an old lady gave birth to a hand. A HAND! 

This awful experience is attributed to you because you are the reason my boyfriend wanted to convince me that WWE is, here's that mis-applied word again, "genius". I am now mentally scarred and have lost 12 minutes of my life which I can never get back!

2) I may have been able to recover some semblance of normality if it hadn't been for detrimental effect number 2 - in which my boyfriend seems to have memorialised one of the funniest moments of his life with something that happened while he was watching you. 

During some sort of "intense" pay-per-view wrestling match, he got a little drunk with a bunch of mates and consequently was nearly paralysed when one over-enthusiastic friend "angle-slammed" him (steady). Previously, I was the cause of many of his most humerous memories and he would look at me with such love and laughter in his eyes. 

Now he looks at me with confusion..."you're not Daniel Bryan..." and then resigned tolerance ..."ah well, I suppose at least you do have bewbies...".

3) He has a t-shirt that says "YES! YES! YES!" on it. 

This is courtesy of his friend who went off-list and bought him an unapproved birthday pressie. Tut tut!

4) He wears this t-shirt far too often.

Seriously - he can't go and watch wrestling without it. The one and only time I have seen him iron anything in the last 9 years is when he was so desperate for this tshirt to dry (I had actually managed to get him out of it long enough to wash it) that he used everything he could, including my state-of-the-art hairdryer just so he could wear it to a PPV that night. 

5) People stop in the street to shout "YES! YES! YES!" at him, congratulate him on being "awesome" and share some in-joke about friggin' WWE.

This happened! I know! It's like these wrestling nerds just gravitate towards one another and then slowly take over your whole town and eventually, your life!

6) I nearly lost him at an Iron Maiden gig when same friend as in number 2 tried another wrestling move on him in the mosh pit which nearly resulted in him crowd-surfing 100,000 people, which I would NOT have been pleased about - although he would have found it awesome I'm sure.

7) He's not shaving as often as he used to.

I'm okay with him having a beard. I've gotten used to it. He would have grown it whether I liked it or not so I've had to suck it up (not literally - eww!) but it's getting a little long now, and having Wikipedia'd you, I'm starting to wonder whether he isn't inspired by your abundant facial hair. 

He'd better not be copying yo' face!

8) He thinks it's funny to make references to WWE at inappropriate times.

He actually thinks it's pretty comical to make references to anything I hate at inappropriate times. And I'm not a hateful person but there is a list (quite a heavily South Park-related list) of jokes/ voices/ accents which I would respectfully ask him not to do in my presence but which he, disrespectfully, ignores at every opportunity.

9) He keeps saying "shuck ducky qua...(oh wait - that's for my letter to that other wrestler...)

10) I worry that he loves you more than me :'-(

I didn't even hear about you from him, I heard from his best friend (waaah). 

In light of the above detrimental effects that your on-air representation has had on my personal home life, I would seek to be compensated as follows...

- that you ruin your reputation in favour of Stone Cold

- that you encourage my Boyfriend to adore Stone Cold instead and, if possible,

- that you cause my Boyfriend to desire Stone Cold's inclusion in our relationship on a casual basis because him, I can accept and even appreciate (on a purely biological level, you understand).

I look forward to seeing Stone Cold at Business Time next Wednesday evening from 8pm. 

Unkind regards, 

Becky

***DISCLAIMER***

I would really appreciate it if you didn't sue me but I was semi-serious about the Stone Cold thing - he pwns you!

So this happened...

A spitfire. A friggin' SPITFIRE! \m/

Is this the most disappointing ending ever?

**WARNING: SPOILERS OF SYLVIA DAY'S CROSSFIRE SERIES**

Right, make yourselves comfortable. This is one of those ranty, unplanned posts which might go on a bit because I am SO ANNOYED!

First things first - I can't go on an erotica rant without briefly mentioning this...

I was a bit late to the party when it came to Fifty Shades of Whatthefuuu so, rather than jump on the bandwagon, I ended up running waaay behind it trailing desperately after all the cool kids and shouting "Heeyyy, waiiit! I've got shit to say about this book too!".

Well, it took me a while to make up my mind about 50 Shades because, having read my fair share of Mills & Boon, I had expected it to be so much worse, and was therefore pleasantly surprised to find some semblance of character development.

I mean, yeah, the inner goddess vs. subconscious waffle was really painful and borderline schizophrenic BUT on the whole, and let's be reasonable here guys...

It. Wasn't. That. Bad.

...Although arguably, the only reason it had any character development was because the characters were based on Bella and Edward (what is it with stupid names? Bella?? Really?) from The Twilight Saga (which I haven't read - disgraceful I know).

...And okay, the repeated vocab was annoying but show me an erotic novel which doesn't repeat itself...at the end of the day - there are only so many words to describe your spam folder!

I mention Fiddy now because, until last night, I thought I'd found a series of erotic fiction that I could hold up to you as an antidote to everything that was wrong with E L James' writing.

The Crossfire Series by Sylvia Day. 

In essence, the story is pretty similar. A pretty-and-successful-but-doesn't-realise-it woman, falls for a ridiculously rich and good-looking man. The books follow their passionate love affair as they fight to overcome their emotional issues in order to stay together yattayattayatta. There's a whole sub/dom element to it but it's not as pronounced as in 50 Shades, which I personally prefer. The plot is more textured, there is more to the characters and it doesn't feel like the author is just using a loose story as an excuse for something to write about when the protagonists aren't banging each other. So far, so good.

I found that I absolutely tore through the first two books because the love story, while completely unbelievable fantasy, was fun and easy to read. The dark side of these books, doesn't necessarily come from the sexual deviance of Eva and Gideon (the main characters, again with the names...), instead, Day uses a sort of crime fiction baseline to give the story drama. Again, I much prefer this type of multi-layered story. I think I would go so far as to say that I really loved the first 2 books. They were welcome, summertime, escapist reads and I think that's why I was so utterly disappointed when I came to the end of the first book last night.

Here's what happened...I was tearing through it, as expected and Day was bringing all sorts of interesting stuff into the plot. The guy that Gideon supposedly killed in the second book was found to be inexplicably linked to the Russian Mafia. This let Gideon off the hook because it raised suspicions that a member of the Mafia killed the guy instead. The police evidence against both possibilities is sketchy but Day brings in bits and pieces of the back story here and there making you wonder exactly how the guy was killed, who was responsible, how that affects Gideon and Eva's relationship etc. etc... and alongside that, we find that Cary has got a girl up the duff!

Alarmingly, we only start to really get into all this when we are like (*looks at Kindle*) 80% of the way through!

Then, all of a sudden, we come to an abrupt end where the Author writes a quick, crappy little note to say that she missed her deadlines so the book is unfinished.

No.

I lie.

She says:

Author's Note

Yes, dear reader, you're right. This can't possibly be the end. 

Gideon and Eva's journey isn't quite finished yet. I look forward to seeing where they'll take us next. 

All my best, 

Sylvia. 

Seriously?

GAAAHGGHGHAAHAHHHHH

Have you read this book? What did you think? Let me know in the comments below - I'd love to hear your views!

Horse-meat scandal! Woman survives consumption of WHOLE, LIVE, HORSE!

Betty Bumpkin*, 84, smiles kindly at me through the myopic haze of her age-addled memory as she recalls how she came to defy modern medicine by surviving the worst recorded case of Hippophagitis since records began.

Nose-to-kneecaps in a chintzy armchair which, presumably, was last upholstered sometime prior to 1974, I attempt to return her toothless smile whilst subtly adjusting the position of my buttocks, in order to accommodate the detritus of the last 40 years, protruding through the pitifully flat cushion. 

Literally furniture-bound, I try in vain to gently wrest an over-full teacup from her shaky hands. Having spent 40 minutes stuck on the godforsaken Coast Road, less than a mile from her front door, eyeing those cliffs almost longingly...I am desperate for a proper cuppa! 

Babbling on about her "darling" bungalow, I learn that she has lived here, in the ironically-named, traffic blackspot of Peacehaville*, since the Fifties. It would seem she has also had the central heating on, continuously, since it was installed. 

Wondering if she'd notice an attempt to catch the raindrops of tea by just stretching my tongue a ...little...further, I reluctantly prepare to take notes on yet another sensationalist bullshit story to feature in "Bumfodder Weekly" or, as most people know it, "Really". Really? Yes. Really. 

Oh don't worry! They don't read their submissions...And I'm only on a government-forced Apprentice Scheme so with any luck they'll fire me and I can get on with being 18. 

Anyway, I'm here today to interview Betty, who, in the light of the recent horse-meat scandal, has written to us with the shocking claim that she has eaten an entire live horse - and survived to tell the tale (and earn £50 and a Royal Jelly gift set to boot)! 

So Betty, what made you decide to eat a live horse? If you were so interested in horse meat, why not just buy a Tesco Value "beef" burger?

Ah, well, you see my dear, it's actually a little known [or perhaps, made-up?] illness called Hippophagitis, not to be confused , of course, with Hippovaginosis which is an entirely different matter and not at all pleasant, but then I wouldn't know, you see, because I've neither got nor had it, but Mr Spencer at the local pharmacy did say that he thinks Mrs White at number 22 might have something funny going on "down there" because she asked for Canesten with her blood-pressure tablets last week, if you ask me, I always said Mr White was a wrongun, I reckon he's been giving it to her in the...

*Cough* Yes, errr, so an illness, you say? Do you know what brought it on?

What brought what on, dear? 

...The Hippophagitis...?

Hippovag...!? I beg your pardon! Oh no dear, not me dear, I've never had nothing like that going on with my you-know-what thank you very much. My mother always said never to go with a foreign gentleman else that's what you get, you see! *Incoherent mumbling...*

*Raising voice* Mrs Bumpkin? I was asking about the HIPPOPHAGITIS? WHEN YOU ATE A HORSE??

Well why didn't you say. Of course! Well I 'et an 'orse dear to catch the cow I et. 

The cow...?

Oh yes, you see, during the war, our food was heavily rationed, and my mother always said "waste not, want not". So I 'ad to eat the whole cow even though I was rather full already what with the dog and everything. And I paid for it afterwards an' all because it really upset my IBS!

I sense I should pause, thoughtfully, and take the time to really delve into the sad back story that she's clearly alluding to. Let's just assume that it involves some sort of WWII-related childhood trauma, an absent father, a profound hunger, blah blah blah...

Focussing on the single, most interesting thing, Betty has said so far, though:

I'm sorry - did you say something about a dog?

Yes, dear, the dog dear, what about him?

Well - it's just that I didn't realise you had a dog?

Had's the word dear. I did have a dog, yes. But I et him. 

Errr...so is that...Caninophagitis?
Well call it what you will dear, I wouldn't advise it. Most unpleasant week of my life, eating that dog...

Well, why did you eat your dog Mrs Bumpkin?
I simply had no choice! That's simply what you have to do in the unlikely circumstance of having eaten a cat!

*Starting to doubt my own sanity and Googling "symptoms of early onset Dementia on my iPhone"*.

I'm beginning to sense that this is a futile question but, may I ask WHY you ate A CAT?
Well you see, I'm a little befuddled as to how it happened. It was a sort of accident you see because, although I admit I did mean to eat Tommy the Cat at the time, I don't really remember the circumstances too well but I think...I think I thought he'd be able to settle my stomach after I et that dodgy seagull. Tommy used to like catching birdies.

Yes... 
Clearly I'm on candid camera so I had better just ride it out with as much dignity as I can muster - maybe this is part of my exam?

Tell me, what made you decide to eat a seagull, specifically? Surely a blue-tit would have been more manageable?
Mmmm you are right there my dear, and had I known what a flap it would cause, I certainly would have chosen more carefully. The thing about seagulls, though, is...the thing about seagulls...

Her head droops onto her saggy chest and she starts to snore. This gives me time to weigh up my options...

1) Make a run for it, fabricate the rest of the article, possibly get found out, and fail my Apprenticeship assessment?

2) Steal from the old bat and try and disappear?

Oooh, what's this? I've been, almost subconciously, rooting down the side of the sofa, in the hope that I might find something to recompense me and, woo hoo! I can feel something like a note...

I surreptitiously try to unbury it and am startled when she jerks awake. Pretending to be looking in my pockets, I laugh nervously at her. She's staring balefully at me as if she had never been asleep and I sense that I ought to carry on where I left off. Best not to mention it, I suppose. 

Where was I, oh yes - the thing about seagulls is that they're very aggressive and so I figured he wouldn't be scared orf by the spider.

The spider...?
Balls. It's a bloody dollar! Maybe I will stop by those cliffs on the way home... Or perhaps I could take Betty for a walk...?

Yes, dear. You know. SPIDER. 'Orrible 'airy thing will all those legs and eyes.

I can't believe it. She's actually trying to mime a spider to me.

YES MRS BUMPKIN. I WAS JUST WONDERING WHY YOU ATE ONE?
Ah yes. Well, it's a funny story actually but it's caused my bowels no end of trouble I can tell you. The doctor wouldn't even grant me an appointment. But you know what it's like these days, I think you have to make some sort of blood sacrifice to the receptionist to get into see them these days, he does sign aspirin prescriptions pretty darn quick though, hands those things out like sweeties he does but, well really, I blame the NHS!

The NHS?
Yes, you see I et a fly, and then I panicked when I could still feel it flapping about. But I used the symptom checker and they...

...said you should eat a spider and then consume progressively larger animals over the coming weeks until you either come to your senses or die of internal bleeding?
What? No! Of course not. NHS Direct didn't help at all. The internetty thing had nothing to say for itself, and when I phoned I just kept getting put on hold. I got the feeling they were all having a laugh at my expense you know!

Noo...
Oh yes. That's what the world's coming to these days. Impersonal and uncaring. It's that David Cameron's fault! Big Society?Big Scam, more like...

You could've gone to A&E...?
Oh no, not me. I haven't been ill since the Eighties. Besides, I don't want to waste anyone's time!

Wondering what she thinks she has been doing for the last hour, I politely phrase, what I hope to be my final question...

What made you eat a fly Mrs Bumpkin?
Ooh I don't know, dear. I don't know...

-- Becky Boo.

In loving memory of Mrs Betty Bumpkin who sadly died last Sunday after suffering complications arising from Polyfaunaphagitis.