“Peter! Susan!” cried Lucy, “Edmund has been to Narnia too now, and he can tell you all about it!”
“Edmund – is this true?” asked Peter.
Edmund shuffled his feet in a shifty sort of way. “Ah no, we were just playing a game about her imaginary country, Peter. We had fantasy Narnian Lions v British & Irish Lions teams.”
Lucy turned pale, and ran out of the room.
Peter was very angry with Edmund for encouraging Lucy in her apparent silliness. Susan, also concerned, scowled at Edmund. Such a scowl he had never seen before, barring seeing Peter O’Mahoney once, and he also left the room.
“Peter,” said Susan, earnestly, “I think we should speak to the Professor. Lucy is going mad.”
* * *
“Bless me, me bairns,” said the Professor, taking off his glasses and wiping them, “Whatever makes you think that Lucy is mad?”
“But … but … Professor, we have told you about her imaginary country and Lions,” gasped Susan.
“Have you ever known Lucy to tell lies before?”
“Well … no,” admitted Peter, “She’s always been particularly truthful. That’s why we fear for her sanity.”
“The young lassie seems very sane to me, and we’ve established that she doesn’t tell lies. Perhaps she is telling the truth, hmm?” answered the Professor. “There are more things in space and time than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”
As soon as the children had closed his study door, the Professor took a favourite memento out of his drawer, and stroked it absently. “Thank ye, Karlus, for the Narnian Lions medal,” he whispered to himself.
* * *
Things rumbled on for another week or so, with Lucy morose, Edmund gloating in a sulky sort of way, and Peter and Susan concerned.
Another wet day ensued, and the housekeeper, Mrs Weir, was showing another lot of visitors around the house. This was really a bit naughty, but they were all doing their best to maintain social distancing, which made it even harder to dodge the party.
No matter which way the children went, there seemed to be visitors wearing face-masks heading in their direction, and they were inexorably pushed towards the dusty gym. Assembled inside, they could hear voices approaching. It was as if some magic were pressing them into a hiding-place in the gym.
“All right, Lucy,” said Peter, “Show us where to go.”
Lucy pulled open the rustiest locker with the Lions shirts, and led them inside. Soon they found themselves gazing at snow-covered conifers.
They wandered around in amazement.
“I say,” said Edmund presently, “If we’re heading for the lamp-post, we should be going that-a-way.”
Peter and Susan stopped dead in their tracks.
“So you have been here before!” said Peter. “You absolute rotter. You bounder and cad. You … you Saracens fan, you!”
“Lucy,” said Susan, “I do apologise.”
“That’s all right,” replied Lucy. “Let’s go and see Mr Iknus.”
* * *
Lucy led them towards Mr Iknus’ cave, but as they neared its entrance, she gasped in dismay. The door was wrenched off its hinges. She spotted something white, and rushed forward.
There was a note pinned to the door.
To Whom It May Concern,
The Traitor Iknus has been arrested by the order of the Queen of Narnia for fomenting rugby enthusiasm against Her Majesty’s express wishes.
Any fellow enthusiasts will also be hunted down and arrested.
Signed,
Maugrim
Chief of Her Majesty’s Very Secret Police
* * *
As Lucy stared, dumbfounded, at the notice, Peter caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye.
“Oh Peter, Susan, Edmund,” wailed Lucy, “We must help Mr Iknus! It is probably my fault that he was caught!” She explained to the others all about Daughters of Maeve.
“That’s odd,” said Susan, “My mother’s name is Maeve too. I’m not sure why, because she is from the Valleys.”
“Well, my mother’s name isn’t Maeve,” said Peter. “It’s Eve, and my Dad’s George. But he’s always called Hamish on account of being born in Glasgow.”
Edmund’s eyes boggled.
* * *
Mr Beaver burst out of the undergrowth.
“Two Daughters of Maeve and two Sons of George, upon my word!” he cried.
The children all took a step back, because they had never seen a large Talking beaver before, and were a little surprised. But they were soon reassured by his smooth patter (“Call me Clyde”), and gratefully accepted the invitation to his lodge for tea, because they were getting right peckish.
“Shh!” said Mr Beaver, putting his paw to his teeth, “We must be very quiet and careful. The Witch’s spies are everywhere.”
They all crept cautiously after him through the forest until they came to the river, and scurried into the lodge under the cover of the fallen darkness. To their delight, Mrs Beaver, who didn’t seem at all surprised to see them, was just laying out a large feast, and they all tucked in heartily, along with the three Beavlets. (The Middle One occasionally made some disturbing pronouncements, but not disturbing enough to put them off their food. They were very hungry.)
As they all pushed back from the table, replete, Mr Beaver lit a fag, which he sucked through his teeth.
“Please, Clyde,” said Lucy, “tell us what you know of Mr Iknus!”
“Ah, my dear,” sighed Mr Beaver, “That’s a very bad business.
“We last saw him being taken by the Witch’s Secret Police towards her castle. Few who enter those gates come out again. They say that the whole castle is furnished with statues – but these statues are Narnians who have been turned to stone by the Witch’s evil spells. Some of them are even Narnian Lions.
“But there is a prophecy in Narnia that when two Daughters of Maeve and two Sons of George sit on the High Thrones of Cair Paravel, then we shall be freed. And lo, we hear that our true ruler – the great Narnian Lions Captain Paulan – is on the move from his long exile, and we shall meet him tomorrow at the Stone Stadium.”
Unnoticed by everyone else, Edmund had sneaked away to find the Witch’s castle.
Ovally Balls 
Add a needleful of milk for a chaser.
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Probably the best idea Trisk.
There was a recent scandal about various hucksters selling something they called ‘miracle mineral solution’ in various parts of the world as a cure for pretty much anything, which was basically bleach.
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The New York Times is reporting the Trump disinfectant thing correctly:
You see, opinion is divided between , on the one hand, “some experts” and, on the other, “idiots who are President”.
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Bring back bleeding people.
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I rember that, as a child, when I had a sore throat I used to gargle TCP.
It was very effective and hasn’t harmed me at all, oh no…………………………………………
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TCP = tom cat’s piss…..
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Good old trichlorophenol. Kills bacteria effectively. Also a lot of other things.
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‘2,4,6-Trichlorophenol, also known as TCP, phenaclor, Dowicide 2S, Dowcide 2S, omal, is a chlorinated phenol that has been used as a fungicide, herbicide, insecticide, antiseptic,[1] defoliant, and glue preservative.[2] ‘
Yup, ideal for application to small children
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………….perhaps that is what buggered up my immune system
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One of the cleaners at work used to sit with his fingers in a cup of bleach to get rid of his nicotine stains. One time he hospitalised himself by downing the bleach instead of the cup of water he had next to it.
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He’s the one in charge. He’s a nice bloke and very good at his job, but if you got nine random people to stand in an I.D. parade with him and had to guess which one had been drinking bleach you’d probably pick him out.
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I don’t know anyone that I know has used bleach intravenously.
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Doesn’t mean there aren’t any suspects.
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just found out more on this 5 G thing. Apparently c-19 is an engineered mass distraction from the rollout of 5G, and a sinister plan to control the world population via vaccines.
Not really sure how vaccines are a method of control but there you go.
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Positive intervention of the day: Stopped a child from poking a knife into a live toaster. I hope a lesson has been learnt.
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There was a lady in Gloucester who at one point drank some bleach. It was a sad story related to a desire for skin lightening. She didn’t die from it but it’s not recommended as good practice.
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Hello all by the way. Have been away for a bit. Hope all is good with youse?
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https://www.lionsrugby.com/2020/04/18/lions-moment-mcgeechans-reflections-on-1997-and-his-ultimate-rugby-achievement/?fbclid=IwAR1J-B1ec4F6IHL3dZZwUoCLMYTfPYzaY7F2qlGosfjZ0nArQ8zaF-hjsRo&utm_source=emailmarketing&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=freelance_articles&utm_content=2020-04-24
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Beadle, welcome back. Are you pleased about Jonny coming home ?
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https://www.premiershiprugby.com/2019/04/08/things-you-might-have-missed-from-gallagher-premiership-rugby-round-18/?utm_source=emailmarketing&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=week_5__friday_fix+Split-B&utm_content=2020-04-24
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https://www.nrl.com/news/
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Slightly wrong link there, but NRL site has some great classic matches, some going back to the 80s.
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Hi Tim. Guess it’s good news given his ability. Just some lingering concerns about the circumstances of him leaving and whether he really wanted to come back.
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Squidge! Uruguay!
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@sbt
I thought you were telling us NRL is returning end of May. I just need cricket restarting to some extent and I’ll be happy.
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There was a game of cricket in my garden the other day. I was taking some time out when the Eldest came running to me shouting “Daddy! I just got killed at cricket by my little sister!” I went through to find that the Middle One had knocked two of her stumps out of the ground with a fast yorker. Eldest was desperate to get her own back, but apparently there was a force field around the Middle One’s stumps. It wasn’t there when I cleaned her up first ball, but she’d run her runs whereas I didn’t bother so she scored far more than anyone else.
Middle One: Daddy, who’s the best at cricket in the family?
Me: I think it’s still me for the time being.
Middle One: I won though.
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I don’t hold out much hope for there being any real Real Cricket this year. Our pitch will be virtually unplayable even if there is.
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I do wonder whether we shall have been so starved of sport by late summer that if The Hundred happens I might end up watching it.
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Though I suppose if The Hundred is allowed to go ahead ‘behind closed doors ‘ (best place for it) then we’ll be allowed to play 9-a-side or whatever in an overgrown field behind a mothballed mental hospital.
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It’s margarita time!
If you’re lucky, you’ll get a new ATL this evening. If I’m not too pissed.
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Cricket coaching started 10 mins ago for the summer for my boys. Via Zoom. It’s working quite well.
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The little OTs will have their slower ball bouncers and wide yorkers perfected by the time lockdown is lifted.
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Chimpie, this is a piece from earlier this month about 5G/Covid conspiracies: https://www.wired.co.uk/article/5g-coronavirus-conspiracy-theory
Not quite sure how the vaccine = governement control works, except that it might turn you and your family into zombie-like creatures or something.
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I was looking for something the other day about fake news and viruses and found this:
https://wellcomecollection.org/articles/XXIeHhEAACYAIdKz
From last September. Don’t tell conspiracy theorists that someone was talking about it before the you know started up.
Of course, it always happens when scared (and unscrupulous) people look to blame someone or something for the terrible situation they find themselves in.
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CMW, further to your guy drinking bleach, a mate’s dad cleaned the nicotine stains off his teeth with Vim or some kind of powdered bleach.
It actually worked quite well as a whitener, the abrasive consistency must have helped a great deal, I should imagine.
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Scotland v France from 2018, if anyone can be arsed with it – a high scoring affair iirc
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Tonight’s rugby viewing, should you wish to do so.
Sadly, NOT the Toonie Flip game from 95 (although the BBC Scotland channel is showing highlights of that tomorrow), OR the 1999 game where we scored 4 tries in about 20 minutes.
Mind you, you could say that the SRU don’t really have a huge choice of showing Scotland winning games of rugby…
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That’s either: BUGGER – Ticht beat me to it.
or
Great minds think alike.
I’m going for the latter.
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Lockdown is going to be ending here pretty soon. 55 new cases announced today and the number’s been going down and down. There was a timetable for opening various business types in May and June but this has been torn up . Schools should open next month for some students. We’ll still be expected to wear masks for the next while.
Johnson’s back at work on Monday, apparently. I reckon a partial end to lockdown in coming for Britain.
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@cmw
Coaching these days is very different. My lads have inherited their mother’s hypermobile joints and can bowl a decent back of the hand slower ball on off stump. The oldest can do a leg cutter.
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“Mind you, you could say that the SRU don’t really have a huge choice of showing Scotland winning games of rugby…”
Been wanting to make a joke about this every Friday.
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The rarity makes the victories all the sweeter
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Winning all the time would be so boring.
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Apparently
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Th e 1976 Murrayfield Massacre would be worth a view.
Sxottish rugby have put up Allan Lawson’s tries before:
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“Winning all the time would be so boring.”
I think most of us would settle for playing all the time at this point.
Will probably watch the BBC Scotland game tomorrow which I think is the rare as hen’s teeth win in Paris where Hastings scores that try.
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@OT – my own bowling these days (since I got the yips and some injuries) is very modern in that any over is six different varieties of shite that often go for the same number of runs whether they’re bowled to a good player playing well or a poor player playing badly.
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Thinking about it the average might be closer to seven different varieties of shite, but the point remains the same.
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Speaking from experience I don’t think it’s that much fun for your team to be shite for any more than a decade or so. That would be for international teams, supporting a club team that play far more is much more gruelling if they’re crap. But I do believe that winning too much would be dull. In an ideal world you’re great one year and hopeless the next. With a brown leather jacket and a Motorhead T-shirt.
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