On the family chat messaging this morning my eldest granddaughter sent a question: Does anyone know what the Gaviscon Bourgignon song is called?
She went on, “It goes Gaviscon, Bourgignon, tiny dancer, tiny dancer.” And she claimed I used to play it on a CD, which is simply not true. I probably sang it to her. She thought it might have been sing by Ana Belen, whose songs I did play for her on CD when she was a small child living at our house. But to the best of my knowledge, Ana Belen never recorded it. Maybe she’s confusing it with Elton John and his “Tiny Dancer”, which I may have played as well.
Incidentally, we saw Ana Belen sing in a free concert in Pontevedra a few summers ago. Free concerts, often featuring well known artists, were a regular feature of Pontevedra summers pre-covid. I wonder of they have been reinstated. When we asked our friend Colin, who lives there, if he knew who was performing that year he told us that there seemed to be a new young female singer, Ana Belen. Was there a new Ana Belen? No! Still the same lady as ever. Her publicity photos must have been very good considering that she and her husband Victor Manuel have been recording since the 1970s at least. She put on a good performance in Pontevedra!
Getting back to my granddaughter, she has form for mangling the words of songs. When she was a tiny girl she would belt out the song “I need a miracle”, except that her version was “I’m in America”, which probably made more sense to a three year old. She’s old enough to know better now. But we’ve all mixed up lyrics, have we not?
The other day Phil told me he had heard a report of a red phone box being stolen. We still have the old red phone boxes around here. As far as I know they don’t have public phones in them any longer. Does anyone still use a public phone box? I doubt it. Most of them contain defibrillators or other useful items. I head of one that was turned into a kind of book exchange, with local people leaving books they had no further use for and taking away items they fancied reading. We could do with something like that in our village. We have a definite surfeit of books. The chap who sells slippers on Uppermill market accepts no-longer-wanted books and sells them on but I always forget to take some for him. Maybe I should try to persuade the local cafe to have a book shelf for customers. I used to know of a cafe in Manchester that did that.
I decided to check up on the details of this latest phone box story. It turns put to have been stolen from a garden:
“Police have released CCTV footage of a man they would like to speak to after a red phone box was stolen from a garden in Chelford, Cheshire.
Sometime between 2.30pm and 3pm on 13 July an old style red telephone box was removed with a digger on Chelford Road.
A white Ford transit van was seen dropping off a skip and then three men removed the box.
Cheshire Police say the men asked a member of public to guard the live electric cables while they contacted the energy network to make it safe, but the men never returned.
The post box belonged to Chelford Parish Council and no one had given permission for it to be removed.
PC John Milman said: “We’ve been making a number of enquiries in the area and are keen to speak to anyone who recognises the man in this image as he may be able to help us with our enquiries. I’d also appeal for the man to come forward to assist us with our investigation.”
Anyone with information should contact Cheshire police on 101.”
Presumably, like certain works of art, this phone box has been stolen to order. I wonder where it has ended up.
It’s 40 years since a group of women walked to Greenham Common to protest against American nuclear warheads being delivered there. And so the Greenham Common camp came into being, with women chained to the fence and eventually some of them, including our next door neighbour, ending up in prison. Now another group of women plan to repeat the march so that the protest is not simply forgotten. We just need reminding from time to time about things that have gone on in the recent past.
Life goes on. Stay safe and well, everyone!
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