Getting it into a tight space takes skill.........

Good Morning World. Tis Saturday down yer in Sunny Devon. The birds be chirping. I have waken with a bit of renewed vinegar. Well in me head at least. Me body is saying 'What the feck are ye on woman? Thas know's thas can't do all what ye got planned!' Anyways I thought after me medication and me porridge and cream (apparently mines Mr Husband reckons ye can have porridge without cream- he talks such rubbish some days- I don't know where he gets such ridiculous ideas from! Porridge without cream- never heard anything like it), I shall go in the garage and look through the boxes. That be if Mines Mr Husband has left a gap for me to look through- they be packed in like Sardines. It be me own fault cos I spent the last 12 years teaching him 'a hundred things in a matchbox mate, a hundred things'. I am well known for getting a hundred things in a matchbox. How do ye do it Beth I hear ye ask? Well I tell ye, when I was ten years old, about ten years ago, (cough, cough), I was at a little school in Hartcliffe called Teyfant Juniors. Mrs Burkitt could have been my teacher or she might not have been but her name sprung into me head today. She set us all a little competition each week and the winner could choose 2pence worth of sweets outta the tuck box. A whole 2pence. Ye could get a lot for two pence in they days. And I know a teacher selling sweets! T'was allowed in they days. Jamie Oliver would turn in his grave. What ya mean? He not dead. Sigh! Details, details- mere details. Just pretend for the sake of the story. One day this Mrs Burkitt- who could be so named or not, told us to get a hundred things in a matchbox. Not a household box or a threepenny Swan Vesta box- no a small penny box. The size ye carried in yer pocket. Not that I did- I was only ten. T'was in the days before ye could go the pound shop and get 12 lighters for a pound. That would have been daylight robbery back then to be fair! And the 50pence shop in Bedminster had only just been thought of! I got 100 things in my little matchbox and mines father had loose matches in his pocket all the week. True mines teacher was horrified at dead insects and spiders legs (that seven legged spider ran round our house happily for many years after) and wings of flies- I was a dirty little bugger as a kid. I had some nice liquorice shoe laces outta that ther tuck box and I shared with me mate Sandra. Cos I was nice like that. I won that competition every damned week. (I think I may have been the only one doing it to be honest- they was a lazy lot of feckers in our class! Infact mines teacher could have skipped the competition and just give me the sweets of a monday morning and saved me all that hard work!) But the hundred things in a matchbox stood me in good stead for the future- from packing the shopping to a van for a house move to a garage. I have passed on this skill to mines sons and mines daughter and mines husbands. Now mines Mr Husband does it so well I can only just get in the garage. I may just go in and stand for a second or two and come back out like I have done everyday for the past three weeks (yep its that long). So me ol' babbers I be off to get me porridge and get me music going. I be back shortly.