helenandjo.com

I have just been reading Sparrow Council’s latest proposals to revamp Sparrow town centre, Mealdstone and the road linking the two. This area was previously dubbed “The Sparrow and Mealdstone Intensification Area” until someone at Sparrow Council realised that created the wrong impression and now it is called “The Heart of Sparrow”. So Helenandi live in the throbbing Heart of Sparrow. I was excited to read that the plan for the main road is to transform it from a shabby, boring street into an “urban boulevard”. I am not quite sure what an “urban boulevard” is but it certainly sounds very glamorous and similar to Paris. Maybe Pricesnipper was not stupid but merely ahead of its time when it set up its chic pavement cafe.

First there was the Parisian-style pavement cafe where shoppers could enjoy dry croissants and weak coffee amid the litter and mud while sucking in the heady traffic fumes from the main road. But it seems the ever ambitious and enterprising Pricesnipper has now gone one better – by setting up a farmers’ market-style fruit and veg stall amid the litter, mud and fumes. Helenandi were amazed to see the fruit and veg display, which has completely taken over the pavement cafe area. It was being minded by a poor man who looked cold and miserable. We will watch with interest to see how popular fume-soaked mangos prove to be.

All this reminds me of something that happened just before Christmas when I saw a man fall flat on his face having ventured onto the slippery decked pavement cafe zone. It was quite funny for onlookers like myself but the man did not see the funny side and marched into Pricesnipper to complain that that the decking was a potential death trap. Meanwhile residents’ association – with its powerful and energetic new joint deputy chair – has vowed to step up its Clean Up Pricesnipper Campaign this year as the shop’s scruffy flower beds are letting down our road. This is WAR!

Here is a picture of me at the door to the King of Sparrow’s throne room during a private tour of the King’s domain. Helenandi were a bit disappointed to discover he does not have a leather-topped desk and drinks cabinet and he even has to share with the deputy King. He does have a magic mirror though, without the magic. It’s just a hand mirror. He says he asked for a proper one on the wall but that’s all he got. Must be the cuts. He also has a lovely painting by mum, showing Sparrow as an urban wasteland covered in rats and wheelie bins. We’re all very proud of our vibrant home town.

Helenandi are set to become even more famous than we are already because we’re in this week’s edition of the Sparrow Times. The King of Sparrow (dad) just rang to say there is a photo of us looking cross outside Evil Besco after our campaign to block a massive expansion of the store FAILED. To be clear, we posed for this photo, it wasn’t a paparazzi shot of us shopping in tracksuits like the ones of celebrities in Hiya Magazine.

In other news, I am now a very important person in residents’ association. Helen is just an “ordinary” committee member whereas I have been elected joint deputy chair (as well as newsletter and website editor). I hope the power does not go to my head.

My life – and bag – are full of wipes. Just this morning I took delivery of a new set of wipes – eyelid wipes. These are to help cure my blepharitis (not to be confused with elephantitis) which is basically chronic inflamation of the eyelids and very annoying. Other wipes in my life include my anti-bacterial wipes, which are useful for all manner of wiping tasks, and my lens wipes for my glasses or rather “pre-moistened towelettes”, as it says on the box. All this makes me wonder if there isn’t some kind of multi-purpose wipe that could do eyelids, sticky hands and glasses thus saving money and handbag space. Maybe it could also be used as an Indian restaurant warm wipe and a baby wipe for wiping dirty babies. I may take my multi-wipe idea onto Dragon’s Den.

Now that I have Cyril, my stuffed squirrel, I don’t need Helen any more. Take tonight when I arrived home from a gig. I came in the front door and there was Cyril waiting patiently for me. I told him how the gig had gone and he listened attentively and seemed very interested in all I had to say. When I told him about the fact our street appears to be covered in vomit, he was very sympathetic in a quiet way and I could tell he agreed that it was a sorry state of affairs. Also, Cyril is very tidy and does not complain about me using his towel. However, he has yet to make me a cup of tea – Helen is quite good about doing that even though she does not drink tea. I could do with a cup of tea now but Cyril is just sat in the living room, chewing his fake pine cone. Maybe Helen is better after all.

I’m being Jo this afternoon, sat at her desk under the stairs while she’s away in Feffield (which I’ll leave her to tell you all about when she gets back). You’d think that this was a solitary existence, but no, I’ve been rushed off my feet. First the doorbell rang and it was a man with a parcel for Jo, and just now it rang again! Whoever can it be? I thought.

It was a man from Battersea Cats and Dogs home who I assumed was going to be collecting for charity. He asked me if I had any pets, I said no (it seemed obtuse to say that my cat lives with my parents, and I don’t think he meant the robins). He asked if I was thinking of getting any. I said that it wasn’t very practical, again without going into details about my complex two-homes life. So the man went away. He must be a new door to door charity collector who instead of asking for you cash dishes out puppies and kittens! What would I have got if I’d said yes? Did he have a bag full of guinea pigs maybe?

I’ve discovered shocking news about Jo’s committment to #nofoodjanuary. I came home to Sparrow the other night and Jo had made a chicken curry with chicken out of the freezer. I was marvelling at how far four bits of chicken had stretched into such a big dinner when Jo confessed that she’d BOUGHT some more chicken to supplement it. I also have my suspicions about the origin of some yogurt and a cucumber.

I don’t know why Jo would feel the need to cheat, other than that we did have a guest round for tea and Jo says you can’t force #nfj on guests. There’s heaps of food in our freezer, including some bread which Jo didn’t know was there but I have eaten up now, and THREE whole tins of beans in the cupboard (well two once I’ve had my dinner tonight). I’m off to see if I can hunter/gather any fish fingers.

Not all is rotten in the State of Sparrow. In good news, the robins have once again set up home in our robin nestbox meaning I can do bird watching from the comfort of my bed. As always, we are being careful not to alarm the robins by staring at them too much. I think robins are possibly my favourite birds, even better than penguins.

A second man has been out to inspect the woodwork at the H&J which was repainted after the Big Flood of 2010. It was painted white but has rapidly turned a bilious shade of yellow and we are not satisfied (as usual). If we’d wanted cream woodwork we would have asked for cream woodwork. We wanted woodwork as white and bright as a nuclear explosion and not discoloured like a smoker’s teeth. Anyway, after the last man came out and spoke to me, our insurance company said some amount of yellowing was normal, particularly when there was a lack of natural light like at the H&J. However, this made Helen see red mist and she has now taken charge of the case, summoning out the second man. This time she handled negotiations, speaking to the poor man loudly and firmly while I hid in my bedroom. He did concede that the woodwork looked more “heritage cream” than white after Helen went on at him. He says he is going to get in touch with the paint company to try and find out why it has yellowed so rapidly. We await his report.