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Posts Tagged ‘Fun’

Let the wild rumpus begin!

Let the wild rumpus begin!

Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak is one of our favourite books to read at bedtime in the Vicarage. My mum read it to me when I was young and our children enjoy it just as much as I did. Recently the Joker came home from school and recited the whole story off by heart, complete with actions.

We thought it was wonderful, and thought you might enjoy it too. I especially love the way his accent wavers between London and the Black Country.

Of course, there are no wild things or rumpuses in the Vicarage. Ever. Honest.

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A handy tool for Vicarage life

A handy tool for Vicarage life

You need to have a mobile phone if you live in the Vicarage. Polly has used it three times recently to call the house:

  1. When our doorbell was broken and she was outside the front door without a key and I was in the kitchen listening to music with the dishwasher and microwave going.
  2. Yesterday evening when she was at the front gate, which had jammed shut.
  3. Also yesterday evening, when she’d been up in her attic room putting her baby to bed and the Joker had locked the door leading up there.

Mobile phones are so useful.

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crazy dodey frog

Saturday frog

The Joker wrote a poem on Saturday. After a busy morning at the Church Working party, polishing pillars and clearing tree trimmings, we’d returned to the Vicarage. The Engineer and the Joker were showing an inclination to spend the entire afternoon slouched in front of the box. I declared the next few hours to be telly free and the Joker elected to do some colouring-in.

But I’d spotted a homework sheet that seemed to have been lurking in his bag for a while. It was about frogs. But filling in the sheet didn’t seem to appeal. ‘Write a poem about a frog then’ I suggested. And this is what we got:

A great way to spend a Saturday afternoon

A great way to spend a Saturday afternoon

Grandpa, who is a fine composer of doggerel verse, needs to watch his back.

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My friend DoctorMum is a curate’s wife, shortly to be a Vicar’s wife. She posted this video clip on her Facebook profile. It illustrates perfectly how we all feel about change in church.

This one’s expecially for my dad, who is at one with Mrs B on the peace.

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Snap is my friend, also a new vicar’s wife. This the story about how life at the Vicarage started out for her:

bishop3The day before Rev Snap’s induction the Bishop just happened to be in the area and called in for a cup of tea.  Rev Snap was in the middle of putting up the shed in the garden and so was in his scruffiest clothes. He’d taken a break to go to the bathroom to produce a urine sample to take to the Doctor’s as requested at his new patient check up the week before.

Snap had to leave for the Doctor’s to deliver the sample before the Bishop left. She went into the bathroom to collect the wee pot assuming her beloved would have left it there for her when he heard the front door bell go. But alas the pot was still in his pocket.

Her beloved knew that Snap was leaving, and that she knew where the pot was. But was this the right moment to let the Bishop in on such intimate details? Husband and wife were able to silently communicate: ‘Let’s leave it till later’.

But then Snap Junior came running into the kitchen having filled his own pot. He proudly held it aloft and asked his mum to put his name on it. Looks like the Bishop is already getting to know the family inside out.

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Moving house seems to generate extra laundry:

A pretty accurate diagram of my washing mountain

This is actually a pretty accurate diagram of my washing mountain

HT: Anna Young

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A great phrase

The Curate used to play golf fairly regularly with a local policeman.

The policeman had a wonderful phrase to describe a character with whom he had had too many professional dealings.

He’s a bad bag of washing

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Crazy Feet

The Joker loves the movie ‘Kung Fu Panda’. So here he is doing the big fat panda’s ‘Crazy Feet’ routine. Enjoy….

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A Strange Thing

The Joker started crying at tea tonight because I gave some of his extra broccoli to his brother.

Some yummy broccoli

My children are unusual (the Curate says I can’t call them ‘strange’).

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