
Fiddlesticks: SS004

The daily illo
Calamity, calamity. Sydney had found a shopping list, but not the shopping list. J looked at the home perm kit and then looked at me. After a time she said, well this won’t go to waste. Stupid bird. How could I have been so gullible.
The long and the short of it, my phone is lost and Sydney is squawking at me. Sometimes I think the top of my head will explode. If only help were at hand.
Yes well, J really got stuck into me about not losing the list. Syd was banging on about it too. Getting it from both sides was a bit much. I was tempted to ask J what she was doing about her fringe. As for Sydney, hmm, better not to ask.
This is the Paris apartment we rented for about three months back in 2014. It was small. To give you an idea of size, the bed was bigger than the kitchen. The apartment was five floors up (no lift) and, being in the ceiling, would have been where the hired help lived. It was though, in the 5th. If you want to know more the go to More travel, less travail.
Memo to all shareholders, staff, and the cartoonist
As promised this is the announcement I signalled to you yesterday. I am excited to announce the Morning Squawk will now be published on Instagram sydneysquawk (no caps, no gaps) as well as on https://redbeakdiaries.com/ which is probably where you are reading this.
Thank you to those who contacted me following yesterday’s letter about today’s announcement. I was surprised at the number who believed there would be a change in cartoonist. This cannot happen because any sacking of the current cartoonist would result in him spending more time with his family. Imagine.
From the editor
From the editor
Good morning. Following a robust policy and operational discussion, the management team has decided to make a major change with the Morning Squawk section of our publications holdings. A full disclosure of the changes (and they will be substantial) will be made at 9 am tomorrow.
In the meantime the advice of the directors is to retain individual shareholding and not be tempted by the ludicrous offerings currently being made. Please be assurred that there is no truth to the rumour that the shares will soon be downgraded to junk bond status.
I apologise for this morning’s cartoon – there again I have felt like appologising for the cartoons on a number of occassions.
With kind regards
The editor
Ps No there isn’t any ‘you know what’ – the dolt forgot to buy it.
I guess not even I can understand this one. Maybe I need to wake up.
No mention of Sydney on the news
Looking across the harbour from the top Rangoon street, just in time for sun-up. Day one of level three lockdown. The sun and the promise seemed profound. For us nothing changes: we stay home, we stay safe (though maybe I will walk on and get a takeaway coffee before turning for home).
It has been brought to my attention that this cartoon series is seriously flawed. The two major reasons; one the artist can’t draw and it is time to replace him, and two his themes are all over the shop with many loose ends never being tied up.
My response to complaint one: I have informed him (the artist) that many regard him as a talentless layabout. He responded by resigning on the spot. He said it would give him more time to spend with his family. I turned his resignation down flat. Frankly, the prospect of him spending more time with his family makes me all shaky.
I have yet to discuss complaint number two with him. I am not sure if I have the fortitude to bring it up.
Yours sincerely
The editor
J says there are some attractions in Sydney going off shore. More on that later.
I mentioned yesterday we had a Paris apartment. I guess it technically wasn’t ours, truth to tell we rented in for two months. It cost $350 a week NZ. I thought that was a bargain, J less so. It wasn’t a spacious apartment.
From the editor
Thank you for all those who have sent cards, flowers and chocolates in the belief that the Sydney’s Morning Squawk artist suffered a nasty injury through falling over in the street. Please be assured that the artist is in rude good health and will get an editorial clip around the ear for worrying so many people. In addition, please be assured that Sydney has never been harmed in the production of the cartoons.
The offending cartoon passed the editorial process through some sleight of hand on the part of my staff. There are now comprehensive protocols, processes and policies in place that will ensure this situation will not recur. The artist did offer to resign, giving as grounds a desire to spend more time with his family. I knocked that on the head tout de suite.
In the meantime, I have enjoyed the chocolates. Remember to continue to send all cards, flowers, and chocolates to the editor and never directly to the staff.
Best wishes and stay safe.
The editor
I came by them in one of the UK’s most prestigious op shops. They came complete with a label attesting to this. The label was authentic because it was handmade. They have caused some arguments with J saying they are PJs because they do not have pockets. I countered by saying that Scottish judo exponents wear a sporran and anyway you would never see pockets in a kilt. Sadly, I didn’t make this reply till two days later. I hate it when my best rejoinders fizzle because of a time lapse.
Typical that we discover a great cafe on the day before we leave a place. There on the corner of Homer and Smith, just a couple of blocks or so from our hostel in Vancouver, we came across the Buzz Café, in an art gallery. It has vegetarian and vegan food, good coffee, and a super nice ambience. (Vancouver, 2015)
Nothing but confusion followed by confusion. J says yesterday’s pic was all wrong in the caption department. She said it’s not her who is over-catering – she said she said it is me who is over-catering. I said no I am not over-catering. She said yes you are, you are cooking too much!! And then she called me a ‘dolt’. Four weeks of this – I ask you.
Some aspects of lockdown are very confusing. One of my jobs is catering. Been that way for years, ever since J served up a cabbage leaf, carrot and a knife. She said it was a DYI coleslaw. Sydney, by the way, means a fish and chip shop when he squawks about chippies. The chippies label is a hangover from his days following us around overseas.
Back in the day, on holiday in Paris, we found Dose cafe on rue Mouffetard. They served coffee just like at home. It became a regular morning stop. We would occupy a table near a power outlet, fire up the computers and sit drinking coffee and writing. I felt very chic when we did this. I hoped the locals would see me as a Hemingway type figure, and J, to me was just like the author of Travels with Myself and Another.
Sydney was stretchered off, straight back to the SPA (Seabird Protection Agency). He is now under sedation for a sore beak and will not, I repeat, will not be allowed to leave for several days. And he will be limited to nothing more than Scrabble. Knowing Sydney, though, it will soon turn to squabble. A phone call is bound to happen, maybe J and I could sneak off.
It seems Sydney hit soft sand at speed, broke off the nose wheel, and catapulted out the front. The silly fool forgot to fly. The phrase silly fool is from my grandfather. As a child I remember him describing old Wattie as a silly fool to my grandmother. I never knew who old Wattie was but I certainly knew he was a silly fool. As a child that phrase rolled around my tongue for years.
The Marriage at Canna is on the wall directly opposite the Mona Lisa. Make sure if you go to the Louve to see ML, that you do a one-eighty and there in the top right-hand corner is Great-grandpa Syd. He’s the redbeak wearing the hat.
The hat is really an empty red 2-litre ice cream container worn as a crash helmet. It is a tradition in Syd’s family and goes back a number of generations. I have done some research on the history of the hat and will probably write it up in a future posting.