Family Ramblings - Hanna B tells tales of hilarity

Family Ramblings...

Written by Hanne B

ARTWORK: JOVINCENTART.CO.UK

It’s springtime! I base that announcement not on the weather. I haven’t the faintest what is going on there. No, I base my observations on the fact that I can say with some confi dence that I have fi nally hoover’ed up the last stubborn pine needles from the carpet and that I can once again see the back of the freezer. We have spent the past few months consuming leftovers from Christmas. We had 22 guests. Apparently, my cooking brain only has two settings; seating for four or seating for 100. Karen called yesterday with another indication that we have moved in to the vernal season. It is time for the annual springtime cricket game on her parent’s lawn. Surprisingly, in spite of last year’s disaster involving my ‘wannabe Retriever’ Cockapoo and the cricket ball, we are invited. It took some time convincing my son that no matter what recent Oxford University studies show, he does need the occasional break from Fortnite so as to avoid developing rickets. It took an equal amount of time convincing my daughter that there is only so much slime you can make. Actually, my logic is no match for hers, so I changed tac and bribed her with the promise of Karen’s mum’s brownies. Everyone, even Victoria, has turned up for this little annual event. ‘You didn’t bring the dog then?’ Karen’s dad winks at me as he often does in a ‘ah bless’ sort of way. I look at his three retrievers Huey, Louie and Dewey, sitting side by side along the drawn up line on the lawn. ‘Yours can do this too, with a bit of training, you know.’ He winks again and I judge it only polite to wink back. Th e game is under way. Girls against boys, as always, and the boys are keen to bring the trophy home after years of defeat. My daughter is batting and my son is fi elding. I watch my daughter from the non-strikers end as she skies the ball and I feel proud as punch, but only for a moment until I spot, my son running backwards, eyes fi xed on the ball and steering straight towards the three dogs. Th ey, of course, are not intending to move as no one has told them to do so. Behind them, Victoria is helping Karen’s mum arrange the cakes and sandwiches in a wonderful display. Beautiful little vases with daff odils and tulips adorn the table, which is covered in a lacy white tablecloth. Victoria, astute as she is, spots the impending disaster and shouts, in her panicked state, the only word she knows to get Huey, Louie and Dewey off their bottoms ‘Fetch!!” Now, where does one securely tie three dogs on a lawn? Th ere are loungers and chairs out, of course, but their light frames would not stand a pull from three hunting dogs. No, Karen’s dad has sensibly found a “safer” and sturdier pole on which to attached the leads; the corner leg of the dining table. It turns out, even an elongated dining table, full of brownies, cucumber sandwiches, scones and sponges (Karen’s mum has the same cooking settings as I do), is no match for three dogs who have just been told to ‘fetch’. On our way home, I try to explain to my inconsolable daughter that the fi vesecond rule doesn’t apply when a dog might have licked the food that has been dropped. My son suggests that next year we join dad at the Tottenham match instead…as long as he gets to bring his phone.

Hanne Bonczoszek is a local author whose fi rst Children’s book ‘Esther’s Invisible Grandma’ is available via facebook.com/invisiblegrandma. Hanne lives in Salisbury with her husband, her two children and a Cockapoo named Enzo.