Cast a spell on me
HUBBLE bubble toil and trouble. Oh God its Hallowe'en. They'll be some among you buying up sweets and treats today for those young nippers that will be knocking on your door.
HUBBLE bubble toil and trouble.
Oh God its Hallowe'en.
They'll be some among you buying up sweets and treats today for those young nippers that will be knocking on your door.
But spare a thought for those of us living in the Ipswich town centre when a knock on the door is often the boys in blue doing door to door enquiries or some drunken binger after a late drink.
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I shall be hiding behind the sofa in my little Ipswich sitting room tonight fearful, not so much of those in masks, as of those ugly people that refuse to wear them.
Anyway, I shan't complain too much, David my next door neighbour has fixed the joint television aerial as we had a reception problem earlier in the week leaving me completely unable to enjoy University Challenge.
- 1 Ipswich's Covid infection rate now the highest in England
- 2 'An absolute honour' –Ipswich woman crowned Miss Universe Great Britain
- 3 62-year-old arrested following incident in Ipswich town centre
- 4 'I'm very lucky' – Ipswich biker-chef lost arm and hand in A14 crash
- 5 Inside a busy GP surgery: From daily abuse to the face-to-face debate
- 6 Matchday Recap: Blues cruise to victory at Fratton Park
- 7 Life sentence for man who stabbed and left woman in field near Ipswich
- 8 Future of Swarovski in Buttermarket not crystal clear
- 9 Ipswich man saves father-in-law after cardiac arrest at beach day-out
- 10 'Don't wait' - People urged to get coronavirus booster
Deep down I quite enjoy the camaraderie and variety of the vibrant and what can be somewhat edgy Ipswich town centre community and I'm far too sophisticated to live in the burbs anyway.
So while unable to watch television and listening to The Archers - still very good at the moment and I can't wait for the Sunday omnibus - I had a little go at a spot of magic to keep myself entertained.
I said to myself. “What can I possibly give to my dear Ipswich readers further than affectation and complete self absorption?”
“I know,” I said beginning to get slightly worried I was having a complete conversation alone even without the influence of a dry sherry.
“I can get them a lover,” I added.
No before you ask I'm not offering myself to my millions of fans - I don't have the energy - but for the fairly-desperate-and-willing-to-try-anything-once among you, and let's face that's most of us, I have prepared a lovely little seduction spell.
A red taper candle
Your most seductive perfume, aftershave or oil
Go to a quiet space and get into meditation mode. Take three deep breaths.
With the needle, write on the side of the candle both your initials and your intended's initials (which will probably be JM)
Place it firmly in a safe candleholder, away from those pesky black cats!
Anoint the candle by rubbing a few drops of your perfume/after shave over the engraved initials.
As you rub the candle, imagine your soon-to-be-lover kissing you.
Pierce the candle crosswise with the needle right through the centre. Then light it and repeat this mantra three times: "By the time this candle burns down, (insert his or her name-James is as good as any) will burn for me. So mote it be." (Mote is apparently witch language for "Goddess, make this happen").
Let candle burn, sit back and wait for the object of your affections to respond.
I'm anticipating a busy evening.
A DRESSING down came from my esteemed editor this week.
Never short of an opinion at the best of times Nigel Pickover stopped me in the street as I was cycling home the other evening.
“Is that a cigarette I see in your hand young James?” he enquired.
“I'm afraid it is,” I replied.
“Well, all you are doing is contributing to carbon emissions as well as killing yourself,” he warned.
My plan to acquire ashtray at my desk and a Dunhill lighter on expenses, now seems a little unlikely.
WERE you forced to wear pink on Friday?
I know it was for some charity - every illness, every cause seems to have its own day nowadays - but really.
You can't smoke, you can't eat crisps. You've got to have five bits of fruit, you must exercise, you mustn't binge drink-if I get told what I can and can't do any more I think I might emigrate. Wearing pink really was the final straw.
I refused to co-operate, though some of the others did in the newsroom, and I wore a nice pale blue instead. Pink makes me look ill anyway.
NOW don't forget dear readers I shall be in the Evening Star trailer - I mean promotional unit - on Saturday night at Christchurch Park for the fireworks.
I'm happy to sign autographs, have my picture taken and do any of the other things demanded by my somewhat limited fame. See you there!
Source: Ipswich a miscellany £5.99 published by Francis Frith
In 1614 Ipswich was quoted as having more shipwrights than any port in England.