Shubumpkin

Whilst traveling home on the bus today I sat in front of an elderly couple discussing fish. Not unusual in itself but my mind began wandering back to a place in time when I had owned a fish. Of course the people were discussing fish in the eating sense, I think comparing the merits of Haddock, Plaice and Cod but I lost the thread of their discussion as my mind drifted back to my fish. It had a small square tank on top of the piano in the “front room” as we called it then. This room was where mum placed her best three piece suite and her display cabinet of nic-nacs, This room also housed the television set and we were only allowed in there in the evenings – unless, of course, I was practicing on the piano. Anyway, back to my fish. I had been to the fairground in the nearest local town with my best friend. She and I had met on our first day at school and had an instant rapport, there being only one week between our birthdays. She was plump and pretty with long dark hair which was, more often than not, tied up in a pony tail. I was thin, angular with straight side parted hair clipped back with a slide and since I’d had the measles I wore, to my despair, pink framed glasses. I was always aware that people liked my friend more than me, especially the boys, I was used to this, so it was a surprise when we won the fish that for once in my life it was me that was singled out. You see all the fish being given out to winners in their plastic bags were gold, but mine was pink. I looked at it at little askance and the man running the stall smiled at me and said that’s a special one, it’s a Shubumpkin. I took it home with great joy and a tank and food was bought for it as soon as possible. I seem to remember it lived for quite a few years before finally one morning I went in to feed it and found it floating on the surface, poor pink Shubumpkin.

Highlight of the day – the bus was on time, not very full and the driver was pleasant and smiled at everyone and for once I didn’t have difficulty getting from the back to the front of the bus whilst it negotiated the speed bumps on the corner of our street.

Today’s gripe – I went into M&S especially to get those lovely mango yoghurts, the ones with the checked, jam cover like, tops and they hadn’t got any in stock. I am now absolutely craving mango yoghurt; the raspberry one I did buy just didn’t hit the spot.