Homo Improvements

A quick sojourn to B&Q among the ‘happy’ heterosexuals who browse at power tools and radiator fittings, argue about tiles and shout at their nagging children. We are looking for screws and lampshades. We find packs of six inch nails which were my Gramps preferred method of BIY (botch-it-yourself!). He used to hang up pictures on these monster sized nails that looked like they would be surplus to requirement at the best of crucifixions. Once when my Aunt Violet was redecorating her house in Belfast, they took out a nail from her wall and apparently a mirror fell down from where it was hanging in Katie’s house next door. Was it the vibrations of the workmen? No, the mirror had been hanging on the other end of one of Gramp’s nails!

I give up very quickly in B&Q and make for the exit and the ice-cream van that I can see doling out buttery-flavoured lard with flake and nuts. Prevented from achieving the goal of a ninety–nine, I am accosted by a woman undertaking a survey. She is mid-fifties and dressed head to foot in black with too much gold jewellery. She is wearing one of Sybil Fawlty’s wigs, only she has dyed-it-herself with a shade of dark red that has turned the blonde bits a hue that we can only describe as … well, beetroot and looks a tad Raisa Gorbachev. The Goth Gorbachyova look is not one that works for her!

As a byway - Violet's best friend is called Olive. There's no "funny" stuff abut the relationship - they may be a colour scheme but they're not a couple. These sisters are not doing it for themselves.