Cinnamon

ABC WEDNESDAY

CINNAMON

Next time you eat some cinnamon toast, sit back and just consider.

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Once cinnamon was so precious that it went to the highest bidder!

It was worth more than silver! It was worth more than gold!

It was the property of lords and kings in the ancient days of old!

So precious was this spice that it was kept in secrecy.

People who asked were told that it was dredged up from the sea!

Then Arabs said that Cinnamon Birds came flying from the sky

To pluck the bark of the cinnamon tree. But that was just a lie.

In modern fashion, the tales were told to elevate the price!

Yes, even today we're fooled this way, which isn't very nice.

Today we call it Marketing: deception plays a part.

The history of Cinnamon shows that 'spin' always was an art!

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The process of harvesting cinnamon.

 

 The delicious result: a cinnamon bun.

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OF COURSE!

The saintly Mother Theresa went up to Heaven (of course).

For her life had been entirely without blame,

And all the trumpets sounded as she entered in the Gates,

And an angel chorus glorified her name.

When it came to supper-time she discovered that her meal

Was some tuna with a morsel of dry bread,

And she ate it very gratefully as you'd expect her to,

And 'Thank you, God' Mother Theresa said.

But she took a little idle peek to the Other Place below,

To that place of endless horrors known as Hell,

And she saw the folk there feasting on venison and steak!

In fact, the Damned were eating very well!

Next night when mealtime came around her food was just the same,

Tuna and bread! Just like the poorest peasant,

And when she once more took a peek and glanced down into Hell

She saw the Damned were eating quail and pheasant!

At last she plucked up courage to question her own fare

And God replied 'There's only Me and you.

There are untold millions eating in that other dreadful place!

It hardly seems worthwhile to cook for two'

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PS

Yesterday was quite hectic. I went to a meeting at Malcolm's Probus in the morning, but I had to leave early to get over to Broadmeadow to take my Public Speaking class. What a joy those children are! They're so enthusiastic and responsive and I have such fun with them. I've always had a little knot of regret in my mind that my teaching days are long-gone, and now I've got this gorgeous unexpected bonus.

At night we put on 'Tiddly Pom' for a local V.I.E.W. club. This is an organisation that is  devoted to charity work. They support Womens' Refuges and things like that. I've joined the organisation because meetings take place just round the corner from my home, and the first Tuesday in the month is Malcolm's Car Club evening anyway. He missed it this month, though, as he came to sing in my chorus.

Here is our mock wedding cake, Carole, the pianist, and Pam, the drunken bridesmaid.

 Here is me being rather coy with my new husband, while Shirley looks on.

And here is one of the few photographs showing all of us. Even Malcolm, who's peeping round Betty, the announcer's, shoulder. I'm sorry it's not good of you, Joy, as I know you look at my blog! Pam, the drunken bridesmaid, is able to look too, now she's on line!