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Memoirs of a Model Railway Widow By Ann Onn So now we’ve finally ‘finished’ the garden (which means it’s beginning to recover from the shock of having a 13’ x 10’ workshop land on it (together with associated tromping up and down on the ‘grass’) and with the weather so beautiful I thought we’d have a few friends round for a BBQ. And to admire my shiny new potting shed (a mere 6’ x 4’ and the very last thing to be finished, obviously). So along pop ‘the boys’ (which actually means I go and collect them and a suspiciously clanking bag) so that they can get a taxi home. To their credit a superb trifle also joined us in the car. So ensued a pleasant afternoon and evening spent scoffing the offerings of the new BBQ and discussing important matters such as steam pressures, rivets and A3 versus A4 (which apparently isn’t a reference to paper sizes). Fortunately the effects of the contents of the clanking bag happily took effect and I managed not to be too offended that they seemed not to notice my splendid borders and fabulous roses. Unlike the time the God boy (well over 6ft and at University now) descended for an evening last autumn and similar discussions took place OVER THE TOP OF DOWNTON ABBEY!!! I couldn’t believe it. Hard stares didn’t work, coughing didn’t work. Eventually I had to initiate the nuclear option and switch the TV off. To innocent comments of ‘weren’t you watching that?’ Thank God for iPlayer and model railway club nights when I can catch up in peace! ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Does anyone else have a kitchen with a strange collection of ‘useful’ little pots huddled on the work top, or is that just me? We are now the proud owners of a multitude of varied pots, jars and canisters that have previously held jam (obviously), tablets and even blood testing strips. Apparently they might be useful. That’s fine but I’d rather they were potentially useful somewhere else. Such as in the ex-garage railway room or the mahoosive ‘workshop’ up the garden. Isn’t that where little pots of screws and bits and bobs should be, after all? A lot of these little pots are a product of the many and varied medications partaken of by himself. Who now jokes that as most of the railway club members are now of a certain demographic if they all put their medications on a model train it wouldn’t be able to pull it! ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Model Railway Express Issue One December 2016  
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