| DONALD EFFINGHAM-MUDDE AND DAMIEN |
| Nineteen year old Damien is a mad-keen, cool-dude, ‘up for it’ angler, who won’t miss any opportunity to go fishing. He has an aged uncle, an angler of some renown and a staunch traditionalist, Donald Effingham-Mudde, who spent his earlier years in service to the Viceroy of India. His family jokingly refer to him as WIMDOC, which is an acronym for the phase he uses to start just about every conversation (“Well, in my day, of course….”). The old boy has come to stay with Damien’s parents for an extended visit, giving the pair the opportunity to go fishing together. Donald’s fishing references are impeccable as, according to him, he taught the Taylor Brothers all they know. However, both participants view the opportunity from slightly differing perspectives. Damien really doesn’t want to be landed with babysitting some doddering old fart, whilst Donald sees this as a perfect opportunity to show this young pup how to do things properly. They are bound to get on famously – aren’t they? |
THE DONALD AND DAMIEN DIARIES – Part 1, Damien
By coincidence, both of our heroes got new diaries for Xmas. The entries they make seem to show that they are recording the events that happen from slightly different angles….. Now who would have thought that?
This week we take a peek into Damiens’ world……
Xmas Eve**
Spent most of the day wrapping presents, so I only got a chance to nip over to Susan’s for an hour, her mob were out panic shopping so hence a two star day for me! Had taken a very long time selecting a really special present for the old git (who is still with us). Thought about wrapping a compass in a map to give him a hint it was about time for him to p*** off, but mum and dad wouldn’t see the joke, I suppose.
Later on, we went off down to the pub for a drink without Methuselah, (thank f***!) but of course, cant leave him alone for five minutes. Came back to find the lounge full of smoke and the alarm making enough row to wake the dead. Looked like he’d tried to set fire to himself (didn’t – shame!) only managed to singe the hearth rug. Had a job waking the old bugger up, probably pi**ed, judging by the half-empty malt bottle. Dragged him outside for some fresh air and all he does is whinge on about being cold.
So mum sends me in to get a blanket, then I’m told I have to go back and get him a (very large) tot of whisky to help with the shock. And then he says while he is outside he wouldn’t mind a bowl of Dark Shag, so would I get his pipe and baccy, unbelievable! I said I wouldn’t mind someone giving me a hand getting the fireside chair out, ‘cos the old git was bound to want that next, although I could probably drag the patio heater round by myself, and suddenly it’s me that’s in trouble – again!
Xmas Day
Uncle Donald didn’t have much money to spend on presents this year, or so I’m told. (No change there, then!) But I’m OK because I get a ‘special’ present, unique and hand-crafted. He has got all the old biddies at the over 60’s club to knit me a scarf – bless! Not only is it around 15 feet long, they have used every colour wool imaginable, and some you couldn’t. Even unravelled some of their old cardigans, and it looks like they have skilfully managed to knit the stains back in too, certainly impregnated it with that curious cabbage like odour.
Jab in the ribs from mum meant I had to look pleased, and spent an hour with it wound round my neck six times and still had around seven feet trailing along behind like some road kill malignant python. I will put it somewhere safe, until it’s needed. Could see if any of the neighbours kids might want it to wrap their pets in before they bury them in the garden…..very public-spirited. Brought my neck out in a delightful rash, too!
Brought dear Uncle Donald a number of fishing related presents, best of which was a spade-end hook tier. Best for me that is. Demonstrated how easy it was using size eight hook and three pound line. When I gave it to him to try I accidentally swapped size eight hook for an eighteen, and the line went from three to twelve pounds, to make it easier for him to handle, of course.
Poor old bugger, didn’t seem to matter how much he huffed and puffed, or how purple he went in the face, or how hard he chewed on his pipe stem. “New-fangled gizmos, nothing wrong with eyed hooks anyway,” was the comment as the hook tier was slung in the back of a drawer.
Boxing Day
Drew the short straw on the rota and had to go in to work today – bugger! Start of January sales. Had a great day dealing with hordes of bargain hunters – not! Why don’t they all have hangovers like me? The day didn’t get any better when I got home. Found mum, dad and the old hanger-on in the dining room looking at stacks of holiday brochures.
First the good news, we are having two holidays this year, and if I like I can bring Susan along. Sun, sand, shagging…….what more could I want? Well for a start I could well do without the old git coming with us, but apparently we cant possibly leave him behind, he is family, after all, blah, blah. Shame that no one offers kennel facilities for unwanted uncles – yet! And if that is not bad enough, we won’t be going abroad, because now the old tw*t tells us he doesn’t like foreign food, or the heat.
That’s f***ing rich coming from someone who spends half his waking hours telling us how wonderful life was in bloody India! Anyway, because of this we are going to enjoy the delights of a boating holiday on the Norfolk Broads (plank walking or keel-hauling obligatory for pipe smokers, I hope!). The old git has already started giving us his Cap’n Birdseye and Long John Silver impressions; the hours afloat will just fly by.
Second holiday we’re all going to spend in a cottage near the coast in Devon, and I am told that both holidays were chosen because they were near the water, so that I can have some time to take dear old Uncle Donald fishing. Lucky, lucky me, I’m packing my bucket and spade already…..
It’s no secret now that it’s our Kevin (Perkins) who writes as Herbert Henshall. And most will know that he is the author of the hilarious booklet based on those two great characters Donald and Damien: ‘The Early Adventures of Donald and Damien’.
