Once upon a time, there were four children named Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy, and they were all sent away to a big country house in Cornwall at the time of the Great Coronavirus Armageddon. The house was owned by an ancient Scottish professor of rugby (as opposed to an ancient professor of Scottish rugby, who would be even more morose) who had had some adventures in his youth that no-one remembered now.
While he wasn’t that excited about bloody kids running around the place, he welcomed them warmly with some half-cooked pieces of cheese and toast, and told them to explore the house and gardens, and to please keep the noise down, and stay out of the way of the occasional tours that took place in the house.
One day it was pissing it down outside, and they decided to play hide-and-seek inside the house.
Lucy ran around the empty rooms, looking for somewhere to hide. She kept hearing voices in the corridor, and so she went on to another part of the house she hadn’t been in before. She pushed open a cobwebby, creaky old door and found herself in a disused, dusty gym with deflated balls, chipped mouthguards and still-smelly unmentionables scattered about.
“This’ll be a super place to hide,” thought Lucy. “Obviously no-one’s been here for years.” But then she heard voices just outside the door again!
“Ah fuck, I’m going to have to hide in one of these lockers.”
She opened the rustiest-looking locker of all, and pushed her way inside. There were old Lions shirts from tours in olden years, and she pushed through them, trying to get to the back of the locker. The locker seemed to be enormous, and it was getting colder and colder.
Much to her surprise, she suddenly found herself in a snowy woodland. It was dark, but she could see a light ahead, so she walked towards it. It turned out to be a lamp-post.
By the light of the lamp, Lucy could see a strange figure with the torso of a man, the legs of a black cat, and horns on his head. “Hullo!” he said. “Are you a Daughter of Maeve?”
“Well aye, my mum’s name’s Maeve, so it is: how did you know?”
“My name is Mr Iknus. You look cold. Please come to my cave for tea.”
Lucy gratefully accepted his invitation (upon my word, what do they teach them in the schools these days?), and listened to Mr Iknus’ tales of the Land of Narnia, for that was where he said she was, while he prepared the tea and scrumptious toast and tea-cakes. He told her that Narnia had been a lovely land, overflowing with milk and honey and excellent, free-flowing rugby matches, until a White Witch had seized control, made it always winter, released a virus in order to impose a lock-down, and cancelled all the rugby, yea even unto the Lions tour.
“Imagine that: always winter and never rugby.”
Lucy shuddered with horror. It seemed all too real to her.
Mr Iknus suddenly sobbed into his hands.
“Whatever is the matter, dear Mr Iknus?” cried Lucy.
“Ah, Lucy, I am afraid I am a bad person. I have promised the White Witch – for money! – to betray any Daughters of Maeve to her. But I cannot betray such a charming young rugby fan. Hush! I will lead you back to Lamp Post and the Corn Wall.”
Mr Iknus was as good as his word, and they slipped silently and furtively (“The Witch has spies everywhere, you know”) back through the woods to the lamp-post. Lucy could see the locker, and pushed her way back through the Lions shirts into the gym.
“Gosh,” she thought, “I’ve been gone for hours. The others will be worried!”
***
“I’m back!” cried Lucy, after she leapt back through the locker, and went racing back to find the others.
“What do you mean, you’re back?” said Peter. “You’ve only been hiding for ten minutes.”
“But I’ve been away for hours and hours, and I found Narnia, and heard all about their Narnian Lions, and Mr Iknus, and….”
“Now, now, Lucy,” said Susan, “You mustn’t make up stories because you got bored.”
Lucy stamped her foot. “But it’s all true, I tell you! I’ll show you!”
“Nah, that’s all right, ta,” sneered Edmund.
Lucy burst into tears. “Well, sod the lot of you rotters; I’m going back to see Mr Iknus, who’s nicer than any of you”, she sobbed, before flouncing off.
Edmund looked shifty and quietly followed her.
Lucy made her way back to the locker, pushed her way through the Lions shirts, and found the lamp-post. There was no Mr Iknus to be seen, but she made her way towards his cave.
***
Edmund had watched Lucy go into the locker and not emerge again. After waiting a few minutes, he decided to investigate.
Much to his surprise, he suddenly found his footfalls crunching on snow, and found himself in Narnia.
“Gosh! I say, Lucy was telling the truth after all! There’s the lamp-post.”
Edmund didn’t see anybody, and started trudging through the snow, feeling a bit sulky that he hadn’t had a warm welcome like Lucy. Suddenly he heard a majestic swooshing sound and, thinking it was a clever long off-load, turned around to catch the ball. The noise turned out to be a magnificent springbok-drawn sleigh bearing an icy-looking woman and some minions.
“Halt!” cried the woman. “What have we here? A Son of George?”
Amazed by the woman’s intuition, yet intimidated, Edmund stammered that he was indeed a son of George. The woman looked at him fiercely, then suddenly changed her manner.
“Poor lad, you look frozen. I am the Queen of Narnia. Please step into my carriage, and I will give you sustenance. Do you like Turkish Delight?”
As it happened, being a thoroughly repulsive character, Edmund did like Turkish Delight. He stepped into the sleigh, and was given a warm fur – yes, real fur – to wrap around himself, and as much Turkish Delight as he could swallow, as well as a lovely drink. The Ice-woman now seemed much more like a beautiful Queen-woman, the most delightful person he’d ever met, and he eagerly attempted to answer all her many questions.
After having covered the basics of Edmund being pro-Brexit and a Saracens fan, she asked him about his associations in the land of Corn Wall. She was particularly interested in the fact that there were four children bonded together, and that they were all rugby fans. She exhorted him to bring them all to visit her, and promised more Turkish Delight if he should oblige – because unfortunately she had run out of the stuff at the mo.
Greedy for more, and feeling all-powerful, Edmund stepped out of the sleigh and made his way to the lamp-post, where he encountered a radiant Lucy.
“Oh, Edmund, so you’ve found Narnia too! I’m so glad someone will believe me now.
“I’ve seen Mr Iknus, and he’s told me that the White Witch, who claims to be Queen, but really isn’t, hasn’t found him out so far. She really is a dreadful woman who hates rugby.”
Edmund said nothing, but followed Lucy back through the locker.
Ovally Balls 
Ouch
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What a glorious ATL. That MrIknus sounds like the loveliest ‘neath a lamppost lurker lucky Lucy could lean upon.
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Slade
I didn’t know hips could do e-learning; did they fit a wifi implant? (More seriously, best wishes….)
Also, the glory of opioids makes me miss Sag.
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Stone him!
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MrIksnus that is, not Sag.
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But, you know, everyone must get stoned and all that. For at least seventeen minutes.
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And yes of course I also enjoyed the ATL trip to Nornia. Hope there’s another instalment in the offing.
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See? Shifty, I tells ya!
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Nornironia?
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CMW – there might be, if you’re all really, really bad.
And thanks everyone!
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BB – I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that CS Lewis was a Belfast man.
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D-Mac’s back. Played for Gatz’z Chiefs against the Hurricanes a couple of weeks back. Another long lay-off now,
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@BB – There’ll be Uninorns and all sorts.
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Thauma under pressure to satisfy CMW’s beaver fever in part two?
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I’m waiting to see which player turns out to be Rumblebuffin.
Not sure rugby has an Aslan though.
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CMW – the annoying part is that the one book in the Narnia series that I can’t find – and I know it’s in my house somewhere – is TLTWATW. Been relying on memory so far.
Rumblebuffin is a good tip; had forgotten about him.
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Thaum – I can’t remember all that much about any of the others to be honest. Useless Eustace and the Marsh-Wiggle, the rat with a sword from the one with the ship, Evil Chimpie and the donkey and that’s about it. It does look as though my memory is going to be refreshed in the near future though.
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Surprising in some ways that they didn’t stick better as they definitely mattered to me at the time. Conversely I could tell the story of The Lord of the Rings in such excruciating detail that anyone would beg me to stop and promise to read it for themselves instead.
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CMW – I fairly recently had my Narnia series replenished; I had completely lost The Last Battle somehow, and my younger sister (The Middle One) had, in a fit of spite many years ago, ripped out several pages of Dawn Treader, pages at a crucial plot moment. So I’d planned to re-read the whole series, and then found … or rather, didn’t find … the starter book.
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There’s always the thorny problem of whether to read them in chronological order, or the order in which they were written.
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@Thaum – I kind of remember The Magician’s Nephew and The Horse and His Boy being the weaker ones (or perhaps in the case of the former just less fun for children) so will probably go with the ‘as written’ order. Reading around it seems that Lewis said he didn’t think they were even published in the order he’d actually written them in anyway.
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I loved The Horse and His Boy, partly because I was horse-mad, and partly because of the eastern flavour. O-my-father-and-O-the-delight-of-my-eyes, etc.
Off to bed. Twats at work have ruined my day tomorrow. Have to get up at stupid-o’clock to fix things.
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Not that it was shaping up as a brilliant day anyway, what with lockdown and predicted shite weather and NO RUGBY.
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You could probably safely ignore The Magician’s Nephew and The Horse And His Boy then read them in order from TLTWATW onwards.
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Watching the Scotland v New Zealand game, even now I’m raging at the scrum decisions
I haven’t read the atl yet, I’ll give it due dilligence tomorrow
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Didn’t expect to see a link to MedFet here. Isn’t it heart warming when worlds you don’t even consider do nice things like that. (Also agree that they shouldn’t have to do that.)
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Got loads of comments, but really shouldn’t.
Lock down here in CT, except for essential businesses. That includes gun shops, which are essential and have less ammunition than the supermarkets have toilet paper.
Ticht, yes you are right, but what happened in Ca isn’t far off what is about to happen in London. I have no medical insurance, but living in the communist State, I may have half a chance of being treated. Lack of NHS funding will lead to choices that shouldn’t have to be made,
Anyway, got some new CDs, so am listening to songs from my youth, this one may please BB, but probably noone else. Gotta love a bit of banjo.
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SBT – I bought the LP of Marauder when I was a student. Absolutely rocking album from start to finish! From Dry County to Rattlesnake Rock ‘n Roll to the desolate Diary of a Working Man. Gonna haul it out later and scare the wits out of Mrs Deebee.
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“Gonna haul it out later and scare the wits out of Mrs Deebee.”
Good grief.
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I have no response, MisterIks!
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There can be only for Blackfoot song for this time of the day!
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And a Good Morning to you too BB!
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Morning Deebs. Its a beautiful clear and fresh early spring day here. Just the sort of day myself and Mrs BB would head out somewhere for a wee wander (and a large chunk of Scotland is within an hour’s drive of where we are), but sadly that’s buggered for now.
So today I’ll be painting the living room walls, while listening to some 60s, 70s and 80s stuff.
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Morning all, fantastic ATL Thaum just wanted to say this place remains a balm for the soul in these unsettled times.
Hope everyone is keeping well and staying safe.
Booze free weekend for me as I’m on call for the silly service Coronavirus response hub here before going back on shift on Monday morning – just as well really as the off licenses are still closed here and the supermarket I was at yesterday was cleared out of everything apart from the top shelf £25 bottles of wine!
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Thanks, Michael, and good work!
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You city folk have no idea……………….
A farming neighbour – who depends on the like of us to build fences to control his stock – has just invested in some pigs that like to wander plus, they are pregnant so there will be a herd(?)
As the film says – there will be blood as other neighbours will likely shoot them to curb their wanderings
Apart from that – good morning all – keep well and safe
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Exeter doing their community thing……………….
https://www.exeterchiefs.co.uk/news/foundation-grant-will-help-new-service-during-virus-outbreak
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OT – yer might mug 2.5 people as an addict though.
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On the plus side, it’s a lovely sunny spring day here, so gonna spend it in the garden planting stuff up for the summer and getting my bike ready for the road again
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@craigs
Do those 2.5 mugged people then each go on to mug 2.5 people in turn?
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@OT – they will in the dystopia that is ahead of us.
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People wanted some ‘sport’
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Love it, Refit!
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On the plus side you can still go out to walk alone or in pairs, on the minus side the govt. won’t consider lifting the restrictions until 20 April at the earliest.
Temp up to 20° this afternoon, so quite a challenge to stay indoors.
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OT – I guess this illustrates my musings in a way. You seem to be implying that the agency of the people or cause of the death should drive the response or lack of. Not the end result. I don’t entirely disagree BTW.
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@craigs
Nope. Nothing like that. Instead of comparing coronavirus with opioid addiction compare it with plane crashes. One plane crash does not cause more planes to crash. One covid-19 infection could conceivably lead to an entire population getting infected leading to loads more deaths. So we don’t shut down society if a plane crashes.
Agency of the actors has nowt to do with it.
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We’ve had further restrictions applied here as of midnight just past – stay home – you can go out within 2km of home in a family / household group. over 70s to stay home full stop. Similar to what UK announced on Monday.
Not sure if it’s because Varadkar was trained as a doctor – but he does manage to come over more authoritative than Johnson. (on the other hand – as the old joke goes -” Sincerity – if you can fake that – you’re laughing”)
Have to check if the off licenses are closed – but did manage to order some beers online earlier in the week ….as an experiment to see what could be bought and how long for delivery (and also altruistically helping our small breweries over this economic downturn …. I might try that explanation on my wife…)
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Trisk – what if there is no grocer / chemist within 2km? Although I don’t suppose the Gardai will be patrolling every country lane!
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Thauma – actually the 2km limit is really for excursions …. for shopping you’re not restricted within reason….
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