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Tiger-Lily Brewer-Mead

Nutwood Cottage

Glebe Lane


The Shires


The Northern Hemisphere

The World

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Anyone who opens this diary will be poisoned by polonium-especially

little brothers.  You have been warned!

2nd January, 2013

Dark Chocolate Jelly Belly Beans (50g)

I’ve broken my New Year Resolutions already.  I ate a whole packet

of chocolate-smothered Gourmet Jelly Beans from Diva’s Deli in one go

and I didn’t write you up yesterday, my sweet companion, as there was

no time for pubescent soul-searching and navel-gazing, as Sherry and I

had to catch up with quite a few back episodes of Miranda on I-Player.

Miranda Hart Tickets

We were playing around with our new heads-up display ski goggles

which show your friends on the slopes how many vertical metres

you have covered and the hang time of your latest jump. Cool, but


Sherry’s dad said all the pupils at St Vitus’ would be wearing such

headgear in the corridors of girl power, but that we would be

revealing predicted grades, module marks and form positions instead.

Sherry told her dad that he was so yesterday, as the exams are not

going to be modular in the near future.  I mean, that Cove man-like-

expects us to remember things.  I don’t even register who he is.  Or is it Gove?

Oh, yeah, a cove is Aussie slang for the manager of a sheep station.  Hmm, he

might do better over there. Not.

Profile picture

Mum went to Costamuchamoulah this morning to get back into her

normal social routine after all the festive fuss.  She wanted to meet up with

Candia to discuss when they were going to see a film called Quartet.

It’s about and for wrinklies.  So is Amour and they want to see that

too.  Depressing.

Anyway, when she arrived, she had a shock as she thought her must-

seen wrinklies’ hub had been converted to a vulgar chain.  There was the

auto jumble cliche of half a car jutting out of the brickwork, looking like the

iconic 1959 Cadillac and other such classic motors embelleshing The Hard Rock

Cafés the world over.

Then she thought that she should text me and tell me to come up

pdq and to bring my digital camera as it might be useful to

have some images for my Art project.  She thought that it must be an

installation by that sculptor, Richard Wilson, who stuck a tilting bus

on top of the De La Warr Pavilion in Bexhill-on-Sea.

Richard Wilson 9 12 July.jpg

But, on closer inspection, she saw that the number plate read:

SON IA1.  It was the rear end of Sonia’s silver Vauxhall, but thankfully the old

bird wasn’t inside.  Mum realised then that it wasn’t version 2 of Hang on a

minute, lads, I’ve got a Great Idea, inspired by Michael Caine in The

Italian Job, but more like Hang onto your hats, ladies. It wasn’t

Such a Good Idea to have One too many Dewlap Gins at Lunchtime.

(Quite a Lot of People Know That.)

Candia was waiting for Mum at their corner table and she had heard all

about it, first-hand, from their mutual friend, Clammie, who had been having a

cappuccino when the front bumper of the Vauxhall had made its sudden

dramatic appearance into her world, like some kind of evil vehicular advent,

or Dark Rider of the 21st century.  So, she was ready to spill the beans, as

well as drinking them.

By the time I arrived with my camera, they were already well into the

epic narrative of The Prang.

Mum wouldn’t let me go and interview Sonia for my English Media

assignment until the ageing girl racer had had a couple of days to calm down

and, dare I say it?-sober up!

Adieu, dear Diary.  You shall know more hereafter. ( Have got to do some

Maths, or Sherry will be in a higher percentile.)  Precious wants her A*.