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Sunday, 19 July 2015

An Antique Tale...

 
My vintage toy car.


Waking up on a Sunday and it is peeing down with rain does not do well for queuing up at Walmer Castle for a chance to be on the BBC programme Antiques Roadshow. So I had a power nap on the sofa and dismissed the idea of going to the show.

And soon I was in a deep sleep, dreaming, dreaming, dreami.....ng! Oh Fiona Bruce, Brucie babe!!

' Car was ready and I collected my Nan, bless her well, all 4 foot-five of her. Splendid for her age, but alas a bit slow but some great stories to tell. Rang her doorbell and she greeted me with her now traditional, "Who the fook are you? No salesmen, no JoJo's; go away".

"Its me nan. We are going to the Antiques Roadshow!"

" I ain't that old. 99 I am and still going. Not out so to say! Come on lad stop dithering!"

My nan came out with her broom, not a witches broom but a newish looking one from Homebase. She was convinced it was the same rotten one that her husband use to have. He were a keen gardener and always said to me to look after your broom. Alas he never looked after his rake, left it lying on the ground and a misplaced foot and then WHACK!! Hit directly on the forehead whilst picking a cabbage for dinner.

Always asked my nan what did you do at the time. Her reply was, "Only thing I could do; opened a tin of peas..." My nan so funny!!

So we parked up near the castle and joined in the queue for the show. This was going to be some wait; my nan, her Zimmer and broom, my vintage toy car and an old tortoise paperweight. Soon we got somewhere to sit and rest, a waiting area of sorts and a group of posh looking researchers rummaging and inspecting peoples belongings. Trying to find the most notable antiques.

Would I get to be on TV with Fiona...oh Fiona!!

Whilst we waited for the researchers to approach us my nan was staring at an old boy in an electric wheelchair. In his basket was some miniature grandfather clock. It looked extremely old and was very dusty and grimy on the face. In turn he was staring at nan. In fact they stared at each other for a good ten minutes and then together they spoke in unison, " Hello? Do I know you??".

I thought to myself you ought too;  your blinking neighbours!! You always admired his clock!

 
...they have no value...
 
 
Soon we were greeted by the researchers. They asked if we had any antiques for filming. Yes I replied as nan shoved her broom into the man's face.
 
" It's Victorian! she said. Gracefully I hid the Homebase label with my hand.
 
"Oh really?" said the man.
 
I had to come out with some story so I told him, " Belonged to my granddad and his father before. They kept it well maintained, and it has had 17 new brush heads and 20 new handles in its one hundred and twenty year life."
 
"Is that so?" replied the man. " More like Fools and Horses do you not think?
 
" Do you have any thing of interest?"
 
" My vintage toy car!" He said that with no box they have no value.
 
" My old tortoise paperweight?" He said far eastern tourist ware, they have no value.
 
 
...wasting time...
 
 
The man was clearly annoyed with us and suggested we were wasting time with our silly items. My nan was now having a nap. As the man muttered obscenities under his breath he turned to the old man in the electric wheelchair. The old man then fainted on the sounding of words of delight from the researcher; "...fantastic find...£10000 at least...get him on with Fiona..." First aiders were called an in the ensuing commotion a scruffy, dark haired man of eastern European appearance snatched the clock from the man's basket only to be rugby tackled by two others in the crowd and hit with an old antique police truncheon. "Belonged to my late husband...I knew it would come in handy" I heard a lady say.
 
The researcher, now rather bemused with the excitement, turned around and his eyes fell on my nan, who was very fast asleep. The chap had clearly forgotten that he thought we were wasting his time and was clearly out of sorts from so much suddenly going on around; ambulance, police and news cameras. "Now" he said "who does this ancient doll belong too?"
 
I promptly snapped back, time wasters eh, "That doll sir; is my fooking NAN!!"
 
Oh yes I got to be on telly, the local news...what a farce! Fiona, Fiona....Fioooona, yawn!'
 
 
God bless. Amen.