The Corner House

SUGAR PADDY

Yeah, I’d say he was a Sugar Paddy

Yeah, I’d say you could have called him so

Hoeing sugar beet every summer

Got to send some money home, you know

It’s not so hot in the Fenland places

But it’s hot enough to harvest beet

Hot enough to burn fair-skinned faces

Paddy, why did you think sugar was sweet?

Oh, Paddy, why did you think sugar was sweet?

Yeah, I'd say he was a Sugar Paddy

Working the summertimes on the land

The work was hard, the sun was blazing

The craic was good, the money was grand

It’s not so hot in the Fenland places

But it’s hot enough to harvest beet

Hot enough to burn fair-skinned faces

Paddy, why did you think sugar was sweet?

Oh, Paddy, why did you think sugar was sweet?

Yeah, I’d say he was a Sugar Paddy

Working hard under a Fenland sky

But what’s that mark on your face, oh Paddy

Oh, what is that mark over your eye?

It’s not so hot in the Fenland places

But it’s hot enough to harvest beet

Hot enough to burn fair-skinned faces

Paddy, why did you think sugar was sweet?

Oh, Paddy, why did think sugar was sweet?

Before I go....
Did my black cat bring me luck?
Dunno, but restarted the 'Theatre Production' unit yesterday. This year we have this American tutor who used to act with Elizabeth Wooster or somesuch, must look it up, avant-garde, or what, been on the South Bank Show, and anyway, I get to play Aunt Ella in a post-modern production of Oklahoma.
Good job it's post-modern 'cos I sure has hill caan't sing.
What else? Just had a phone call from Maj and Blondie, wishing me Happy Birthday (I didn't get the message on Sunday). Pleased, because we sort of fell out, over a year ago. Long story, not interesting, but they came a'callin' late at night and I was tired and cross because they woke me up so they got the hump and drove off home. Not entirely sure Maj has forgiven me. You see, he's a Eastern European Prince and used to being cow-towed too, I suppose, and I'm quite happy to cow-tow, usually, but after an hour's sleep.....
But I like and Maj and Blondie and don't want to fall out with them.
Other thing. Phone conversation with Lemonie. It just made me think, what different upbringings we had. Mine was very Irish Catholic and Lemonie's never been involved with religion really. She's always says she believes in God - a sort of a Daily Express-reading God, I'd guess - and that's the extent and end of it so I was surprised when she told me she'd been to an Alpha course.
Somebody from work dragged her along.
'I wouldn't go again,' she said, 'I think you could get brain-washed.'
Oh.
'And what's all this about Jesus being God. I thought Jesus was the Son of God, not God.'
Oh.
I explained about St Patrick and the shamrock. 3-leaves-in-one, I'd learnt this at seven years old. It didn't cut much ice with Lemonie.
'And what's all this forgive your enemies stuff about. How can you forgive people. It's not possible....'
I said, I wasn't too sure, been a lapsed Catholic an' all but I did think it was one of the sort of main tenets(?) Christianity is based on.
'Forgive people. As if. What a load of rubbish'.
Philosophy discussion over and out.

Yes, had a nice birthday.
Bonnie rang to say Sista's pressy arrived on Monday. Sista, meanwhile, sent e-mail. Nice Niece adores acting and is doing 'A' level Theatre Studies, among other stuff.
'I'm trying to encourage her to do more the theoretical side' wrote Sista.
Yes.
But -
True, actors tend to be poor. But consider Nice Niece's circumstances.
a) Sorry, any feminists reading this, but she is a pretty, middle-class girl with a good chance of marrying solvent middle-class boy.
b) Has a very good chance of inheriting a house from her Maiden Aunt Maureen.
c) Her parents live in enormous pile. I kid ye not; they have beautiful, Georgian country cottage to leave to their one and only child and even if they sell it, they are not the squandering money type and.... oh, well, you get the picture.
I just think Nice Niece will get by, that's all and is perhaps in a better position than some aspiring actors.
Real subject of this post.....
My student loan came so I stocked up on a few of life's little necessities.
Like - organic body lotion from Neal's Yard. I worry about all the parabens the cosmetic companies use.
Some of That Cream from Boots. True, it's full of parabens but I'd use White Lead if I thought it worked.
Was telling Bonnie how it was on offer, two-for-one, Protect and Preserve.
'Oh, no' she said, 'I got you some for your birthday....'
As if a girl can have too many face creams.
Only her's was called 'Refine and Renew'. Or something. 'Repair and Restore?' 'Restart and Regain?'
'The women in Durham says this is the one for more mature skin, 'Protect and Preserve' is for young skin....'
Oh, Lord, and where do we go from here. I mean, think about it....
'Apply and Atrophy?' 'Delay and Degenerate?' 'Paint and Putrefy'.....
I'm sure you can think of plenty more.....

A little post. Not that I have hours to waste....
Layla didn't turn up so I went to the psychic fair with Bonnie. I loved it, naturally. Got a reading from one of the 'Skychic Underactive' psychics who was there. We had a little chat with her on the terrace bit outside and she mentioned that she had been in sales before realising she was psychic.
'Funny that' was Bonnie's reaction.
However, even Bonnie was quite taken with a Wiccan lady especially when the witch (well, she was) went on about the feminist aspect of her religion.
She was selling stuff, herbs, jewellery, broomsticks, beautiful hand-embroidered cloaks.... I bought some frankincense to burn when I'm doing my cards.
Bonnie even had a reading from the witch's friend.
'I don't think they're just in it for the money....' she decided.
Still, my reading was fine and, saleswoman or not, the psychic was a friendly, chatty person just like she is on TV. I'm supposed to be meeting a Cancerian man in November but I'm not holding my breath.
Anyway, I've discovered some Tarot courses I could go on. Like I don't have enough to do.
Today, I met up with Blue Eyes again. He was in Medjugorie last week. He gave me a rosary beads from there, blessed, which I was pleased with.
Yeah, well, once a Catholic. I consider myself a post-modern sort of a Catholic.
'Eeeh, but I wouldn't mention that psychic stuff if you ever go to Medjugorie' he advised.
They make me laugh, Christians. I mean, all the really wicked stuff going on in the world and they get upset by a few dotty old females messing about with potions and Tarot cards. They should concentrate on the proper evils - you know, abandoned dogs, factory farming, battery hens, paedophiles I suppose, land-mines etc.