As The Sun Goes Down
As the Sun Goes Down:
an anthology
by
Jay Howard
Copyright 2013 Jay Howard
Published on behalf of Saluki Welfare Fund
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Table of Contents
Foreword
Salukis
Polly Polo
Emily's Hat
Simile and Metaphor
Jackie's Bike
Out The Other Side
Something About Suzy
Time Out
Spirit Passing
Books by Jay Howard
About Jay Howard
Foreword
Thank you for buying this book and, in doing so, assisting the work of the Saluki Welfare Fund. This organisation is staffed entirely by volunteers, who strive to protect and re-home Salukis who fall on hard times. Such selfless endeavours restore my faith in humans. This is my small contribution to their efforts for these amazing sighthounds.
So, why did I choose this title? It’s as the sun goes down, when the day’s work is done, that I get a chance to write. These stories were written over many years, the inspiration coming from many unexpected sources. A hat in a charity shop led to Emily coming to live in my mind, an overheard conversation gave me as well as teacher Chris the inspiration we needed. Fragments of memories morph into skeletons onto which the tendon and muscle of pure flights of fancy can attach.
Maybe something in these stories will resonate with your own experiences. Maybe something you see or hear will lead to you writing a story of your own. Allow yourself the time to notice the small things in our lives, the funny, interesting, strange and downright peculiar things, and they will enrich you far more than money.
The evening is when I get a chance to read. Whenever your few well-earned ‘me-time’ minutes are, I hope you enjoy relaxing with your beverage of choice, dipping into this book to peek into the lives of the people who populate my imagination.
Jay Howard
February 2013
Salukis
Many years ago it was my privilege and honour to have two rescue Salukis sharing my life. I am not now in a position to give a couple of Salukis a safe place to live. I would dearly love to share my sofa - and my heart - with these very special sighthounds. I would at least like to be able to help fund the care they receive from the dedicated volunteers of the Saluki Welfare Fund. Alas, neither of these options is open to me at this time, but I live in hope.
In the meantime, I have used such skill as I have to compile this anthology. Every cent, every penny, will be paid over to the SWF. Thank you.
Here’s a link to their website:
https://www.salukiwelfare.org.uk/index.shtml
Polly Polo
From: Julie
Sent: Tue 02/12/2005 07:40
To: Mum and Dad
CC:
Subject: It may be p*****g down but I had to laugh
Hi Mum and Dad
Had to grab a few minutes to email you before I start work - give you a laugh to start the day. You’ll not be surprised to learn that there is now one more person in the world convinced that your daughter is a total nutter. In fact, this morning I felt quite blonde. OK, I am blonde, but that’s neither here nor there.
At 6:45, as I left for work, it was still hammering down and most of Chetmere Road was flooded. I drove along the middle of the road, grateful it’s such a quiet rural road, and praying that there wouldn’t be anyone coming the other way. Well, I was lucky – only one car to avoid at a point where it was only a minor wall of water whooshing up the side of Polly Polo. Such an elderly lady really shouldn’t be taken out on a day like this, it’s just not fair on her.
Anyway, for better or worse we were on our way.
Other parts of the road were totally flooded and there was no option but to go through them. You’ve guessed it – the inevitable happened and Polly started struggling. She’d been very brave up to that point, gallant even, in her efforts to get me to work, but there is a limit to what you can ask an elderly car to cope with.
At first it was just fourth gear that didn’t seem to be a very good idea. Then there was a bit of asthmatic wheezing on the hilly bits, a little bit of hesitation… She finally gasped to a halt at the main traffic lights at the bottom of Well Street, but we’re used to that happening (that’s the third time now) and good as gold she restarted. With a few extra revs we got across.
I’m now on Mount Street at the back of the shopping centre and had to stop for someone to cross at the lights. Oh dear…
So anyway, I now need my hazard warning lights on while I sort out this little problem of not restarting when I’m stuck at the pedestrian crossing. I know I must have hazard warning lights and I haven’t got many buttons to choose from (two, actually) but it’s still dark and I’ve never had to use them before. I got my torch out to thoroughly check the dash and eventually I located it. What a silly place to put a big button like that, right in the middle of the steering wheel where you’re going to see it every day. I mean, it just becomes part of the furniture, doesn’t it?
I’m now in a position to find the WD40 and give the fixing part of the plan a whirl. Good, found that. Even better I found the little levery thingy to release the bonnet. Now all I have to do is suss out how I opened the bonnet catch all those many months ago when Chris was showing me Polly’s guts (sounds like a nasty thing to do to a lady, really, but she seems to appreciate having her guts looked at occasionally).
Wow – I did well there – only a few minutes and the bonnet is standing up proud! Here we go with the spray – no, turn the can round so the spray sprays over Polly’s electrics, not my hand.
Back in the car it’s time to try again. Mmmmm…. loads of life in the battery but no hint of the engine firing. OK, give it a few minutes then try again. Still no sign of life. Try a few more times – still nothing. Now, I’m quite enjoying listening to Sarah Kennedy but I’m not clocked in to work yet and the minutes are ticking away. There’s also a growing volume of traffic and I’m feeling decidedly in the way. Time for the breakdown call. The conversation went something like this…
“Good morning, how can I help you?”
“Good morning – I’m afraid my car doesn’t like the rain, or rather she’s had enough of going through flooded sections of road, and she’s died.”
“That’s understandable on a day like this. Now, can I have your policy number?”
OK, so I got through the policy number and my name bit as it was written down on the card with the phone number (no, silly, the policy number, not my name) but then he asked for the number I was calling from. Now, I don’t use my mobile very often. It took me two years to use the £20 pay as you go wotsit I put on it. How am I supposed to know my own number? I know I can get the phone to tell me what its number is, but not in the middle of a call.
“Don’t worry,” the very nice man said. He’s one of those lovely people who manage to sound cheerful and helpful even when dealing with a hopeless case at that time in the morning. “I have caller display,” he says. “Can you confirm your number?”
So he read it out to me, and it sounded sort of familiar, so we agreed that was my number.
“And what sort of car do you have?”
“A Vauxhall Polo.”
“A Vauxhall Polo, Madam?”
“Yes,
a blue one.”
“Ermm… I realise the colour is important, but it doesn’t really help at the moment. Is it a Vauxhall or is it a Polo?”
“Oh it’s definitely a Polo – that’s why her name is Polly – so that would make her… a, er… Volkswagen? Yes! That’s it! A Volkswagen!”
Phew! Got past the hard part.
“Right, a VW Polo. And your registration?”
“I think it’s J742 PPP. Do you want me to get out and check?”
“No, that’s OK.”
I think he was starting to lose the will to live at this stage but was still very cheerful. Was that suppressed chuckling I heard?
“And is it diesel or petrol?”
“Oh yes, it is.”
“No, Madam, I need to know which it is – diesel or petrol?”
“Oh, sorry, it’s petrol,” I admitted sheepishly. “I’m afraid my mind’s not really on what we’re doing, is it? I’m not very good with cars.”
Mmmm – that was definitely chuckling I heard.
“That’s quite all right.”
We finally got through the bit about where I was (my mind momentarily went blank but luckily there’s a street name sign right by that pedestrian crossing) and he advised me to give it 10 minutes to dry out, then try again. If there was still no joy he’d get someone straight out to me.
As you know I’m a bit of an impatient soul at times and only managed to wait for the time it took to eat a Werther’s Original (and you know I can never just suck them). Joy of joys, she fired immediately! What a girl! So I phoned the nice man back.
“Thank you so much for your advice,” says I. “Listen – she’s running again!”
“Mmm, not quite there though,” he tells me. “You need to rev the engine for a bit to dry it right out before you try and drive or it’ll just die on you again.”
So I put my foot down a bit. I wince when I put a strain on Polly: she deserves a little consideration in her old age.
“A bit more, Madam, just put your foot down a bit further for a while.”
So I gritted my teeth and did as I was told. Sorry, Polly, I don’t want to hurt you…
“That’s better,” the nice man said. “Just hold it there for a while then check everything’s ticking over before trying driving.”
“OK,” I whimpered, “thank you for your help.”
“No problem. You shouldn’t need to, but if there are any more problems just call back.”
He was right. I got into work OK, although I did panic a bit when I had to slow down and stop for a big artic in front of me that was inconsiderate enough to stop because he wanted to turn right.
I wonder...
will it be the same nice man on duty when I drive home?
Hope to see you Sunday
Lots of love
Julie xx
~~~