We went for a walk around Cheddar today and with my new found local historical knowledge I was able to spot Cheddar Hall and the Cheddar Courthouse for the first time. I had never noticed either of them in the past and had been surprised to see them mentioned. The Hall is a bit hidden away and seems to be divided into flats now and is on a residential road that I rarely went up, but the courts (now an old people's home) is in the centre of town, right next door to the small snooker hall where I played (always against others) as a teenager. I'd also been surprised to find out that the town also once had a cinema, although it closed in the 60s (dad says the building still stood in 1976 when we arrived). I know so little about this place.
My reading had also informed me that a plane crash in Switzerland in 1973 had killed around about 100 local residents (mainly mothers). I am astounded that I was unaware of this, as many children at my schools must have lost relations. These towns are all so tiny so the loss must have been especially devastating. With all this new information about a place I thought I knew well I was beginning to feel like I had slept through my childhood.
It was relaxing and pleasurable to spend some time with my folks, though my dad had been disappointed that my shoes were somewhat scuffed and taken it on himself to clean them. He is possibly the nicest man in the Universe. But unfortunately he decided to clean the light tan shoes (which I rather like in their run down state anyway) with dark brown shoe polish. It's hard to be cross with someone when they have acted in a spirit of helpfulness, but I had a go anyway. It's not on a par with eating lip balm, but my family rarely fail to give me some nugget of material each time I see them. But it's only fair that they give me jokes after all the pleasure I have brought them in lives by being such a brilliant son, brother and uncle.
Later my niece attempted to play a trick on me. She had spotted what she thought was my open Twitter account on my mum's laptop and decided to post a tweet about me hoping I'd get a subscription to a magazined for gay men for Christmas (that was very childish of her, I don't know how she could behave like this. I have lived my life in a mature manner as an example to the younger generation and am appalled that this has not passed down to them). Unfortunately for her the account she thought was mine was actually my mother's (she doesn't tweet and basically only follows me, making her time stream look like my account). So actually my niece had made it look like a 75 year old grandmother was hoping to get the Gay Times subscription for Christmas. Which in some ways is a funnier joke. I saved the situation by deleting the tweet for my mum before the Daily Mail could spot it and run a big feature on her secret life.
Luckily we are a family who can laugh together and we did so several times throughout the day. Usually at someone's expense, but what could be more delightful than that? As long as it's not me. That would be wrong.
