| |
|
|
|
Hello
from dear old Aunt Agony...
we're going to sort out a few people who obviously don't know their
arse from their elbow, then it's off to the whist drive for me.
By the way, I can now announce that I have been asked to present
the new "All About Tea" web site at www.victorianteashop.co.uk
(a similar address to this, but not quite) That new site, as it
says, is all about tea, with information, history and a few surprises
and I shall do my very best to entertain, whatever that rascal who
designs these things gets up too!
|
|
|
|
|
|
| |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|

|
|
|

"Now
get yourself a nice cup of tea and let's see if we can't just sort
you out. You silly billy!" |
|
|
|
|
| 29th
May, 2007 |
Dear
all,
I
received an e-mail today from someone ranting on about cows
udders and natural milk and all the unsavoury things of that
sort. I couldn't possibly repeat their letter here since they
were probably the worse for wear (whisky orientation wise)
and they even suggested putting it in their tea, of all places.
Having
said that, my husband used to put whisky in his tea, but he's
dead now, God bless him, so it seems true that some habits
do indeed die hard!
Some
of the points made in the e-mail were highly relevant to today's
culture and although I agree with most of the comments made,
I cannot agree that women's jeans are a good idea, or that
they make any sense at all – I wouldn't be seen dead
in them, trampled by a milk herd or not – in fact, I
feel they always have that look about them anyway!
Yours
with fond effection
Aunty
PS
I
like a nice cup of tea in the morning
For to start the day you see
And at half-past eleven
Well my idea of Heaven
is a nice cup of tea.
I like a nice cup of tea with my dinner
And a nice cup of tea with my tea
And when it's time for bed
There's a lot to be said
For a nice cup of tea.
Indeed!
|
|
|
|
|
|
| Aunty
Agony, in her younger days, when yet to discover that milk is greatly
inferior to tea. She wrote to many a problem page herself before that
mistake was eradicated."Milk is just a part of tea, dear",
wrote one counsellor"never the whole". Aunty has remembered
that lesson all her life and now stands by the credo that "whatever
comes out of a silly old cow, is only part of a tasty beverage". |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
If
you would like Aunty to answer your concerns about anything really,
then please drop her one of those E-maily type thingies and we'll
see what we can do to attract her attention.
email
aunty
Disclaimer:
We realise that Aunty can sound quite rude and opinionated. This
is part of the job of an agony aunt and can be swept under the carpet
quite neatly by calling it 'tough love' and also by saying Aunty's
opinions are not necessarily held or supported by the owners of
the Victorian Teashop. Particularly when she insults whole swathes
of the population. |
|
|
|
| |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
19th
March, 2007 |
|
Dear
Antigony,
I am a Professor of Creative Grecian philosophy at Derby University
and during a recent forage into the dark depths of the library
archives I came across a document containing what was said
to be a quotation by the great thinker, Plato. Since it regards
tea I thought you might like to help me bring it to the attention
of the world. It expounds the theory that: “He who mashes
his tea long enough, makes fewer enemies”. This I think,
constitutes a potentially valuable document in the history
of tea.
Look forward to hearing your comments
Professor Hector D. Odyesseus
The upper dorm of the Debora Harry Hall of Residence.
Dear
Professor Odyesseus,
According to the work of most scholars, it is generally agreed
that tea did not enter Europe until 14th century, so I cannot
believe that anyone had drunk tea during the early epoc you
speak of, let alone mashed any. By ‘mashed’ I
assume you are referring to the more common terminology ‘brewed’
and I therefore get the impression that you are from the North,
probably Rotherham, or God forbid, Doncaster. Are there any
Professors from that area, or are you, as I suspect, trying
to perpetrate a hoax
Now although I believe your entire letter to be a sham I have
decided to place it before the public in order to test its
credibility and see if they can throw any light on it. Of
course, one can never be too careful and if the document really
exists, as you say it does, and it indeed originates from
the hand of Plato, then your discovery could change the history
of tea forever.
In support, I have to mention that Socrates himself made comment
in one of his writings of the existence of an object he referred
to as a ‘tea cosy’, which he described as more
of a hat than a device for warming tea, but if this turns
out to be corroborative evidence, not only would the academic
world be in awe of your achievement in making the discovery,
you would also be the darling of the printing trade, who would
then have the task of printing all those history books again
at great cost. I often think that this is the reason why there
are no really radically new discoveries made these days –
people just don’t want to rock the boat – or rock
the ‘Noah’s Ark’ at any rate.
Plato, aside, if you really want the name of a good philosopher
I can thoroughly recommend Jean Paul Sartre, he does all my
philosophy for me and he is very good indeed. “Hell
is other people” is one of his more famous and accurate
dictums, just to give one fine example.
Regards, your very Aunt Agony (not Antigony)
|
|
|
|
|
|
| |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| |
|
|
| 19th
February, 2007 |
Dear
Aunt,
I
was born in the year 1887, when I accidentally fell into an
ice cream maker and thus I have been frozen for the last 120
years. I have just been thawed out and shock horror! How much
of Matlock Bath has changed! I have learned that it is no
longer on the Derby-Buxton Mainline, the Royal Hotel has been
demolished along with the glass pavilion. And whatever happened
to Mary Whittaker's mineral water works where I used to work!
Good lord! I hope one can still get a good splash of tea.......
Yours chillingly
Mr Ragglesworthington
Dear
Mr Ragglesworthington,
Thank you for your e-mail. They had an ice cream maker like
that at the Victorian Teashop, but they got rid of it because
of the perennial staff shortage it created – having
part time staff is one thing, putting them on ice, quite literally,
is another! The person who owns the Teashop (or thinks he
does) sold the ice cream maker on Ebay – so whoever
bought the device, thinking they’d got a bargain, actually
received more than they bargained for! I just hope the world
has changed significantly for the better when those poor souls
defrost and awaken in years to come.
Speaking of waking up to a changed Matlock Bath – I
just hope those silly billies at the Council wake up to the
fact that Matlock Bath represents a wasted opportunity that
any council in the country would be happy to have within their
control.
Having
said that, I suppose the Victorian Teashop and one or two
other new venues in the village have made a difference lately,
and I’m sure the Teashop staff can provide the decent
‘splash of tea’ you speak of, if not the 'Monaco
of Derbyshire' Matlock Bath deserves to be – speaking
of ‘speaking of’ tea, I’m off to put the
kettle on. Those people in the teashop never bring me one.
Yours always Aunt Agony
PS
I will publish your letter in my column on the Teashop website,
if that’s okay with you. You should feel honoured, I
usually publish most of my correspondence in the bin.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| |
|
|
| 30th
January, 2007 |
Dear Dorothy, or whatever?
I gather you do a problem page. My problem is quite simple –
Suduko. I got a book full for christmas and I've now had a stomach
full! I’ve sent you a copy of the offending puzzle and
I await your response. I can’t move on with either my
life or my puzzle book until these wretched squares are filled.
Yours truly, Brian Folds Dear
Brian,
I think you have failed to grasp the nature of my column. This
‘problem’ page is more to do with problems of an
emotional nature and especially those where the beverage of
tea is involved. I am not in the business of solving puzzles
such as Suduko or crosswords. In fact, when it comes to challenges
like Suduko I am all at sixes and sevens and I believe that
particular puzzle involves nines, so what good would I be?
Anyway, unless you find that the tedious nature of Suduko starts
to effect your mind and distract you from your tea, I really
can’t be of much help.
Your truly, Aunt (by the way I am not called Dorothy)
(Note
from the designer: She's called Fanny.)
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| |
|
|
| 22nd
January, 2007 |
Dear
Aunt,
I am in need of your services. In hope of solace I have been
reading the lovely ‘tea quotations’ on your charming
new “All about Tea” website and although I find
them comforting, and there is no doubt that tea is a great
healer, I am currently depressed, discouraged, despondent,
disinterested, disgusted, disorganized, disgruntled, disaffected
and undisciplined and in short, I am beyond tea! Can you help?
Raymond Dawkins
Dear
Raymond,
Don’t be a silly-billy; no one is beyond tea. Put the
kettle on and if necessary, try a ‘Disprin’ –
just the one though!
Aunty is thinking of you...
(our
'All About Tea' sister site is at: www.victorianteashop.co.uk)
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| 20th
January, 2007 |
Dear Aunty Agony,
I visited The Victorian Teashop in Matlock Bath over a week
ago and I have to say that ever since then I have been suffering
what I can only describe as Victorianitous. I have involuntarily
taken to wearing bustle skirts and calling everyone “my
Good Man”. Is this right and proper? For although I am
more than delighted with my newly acquired eloquence, I think
that bustle skirts are not becoming on a gentleman. I even took
tea with the Vicar yesterday afternoon and spoke of nothing
but the Brontes, Queen Victoria and Mr Darcy.
God Save The Queen.
Bertram B. Forthright (formally Bert) Dear
Mr Forthright,
Or may I call you Bert? What a saga. I can only suggest that
you return to The Victorian Teashop as soon as you can make
yourself available. You have to realize that this sort of behaviour
is very unusual outside a conservation area. We have a special
blend of tea that will return you to normal and you will be
as right as rain in no time at all. You’ll soon be back
to watching the television with crumbs all down your front and
an overturned can of beer on the cluttered and stained coffee
table.
I hope that has painted a graphic picture of what may be in
store for anyone who dares to venture outside the reign of Queen
Victoria.
Yours with affection Aunt.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| 2nd
January, 2007 |
Dear Ms Agony,
Happy New Year. During our Christmas shopping my Husband and
I popped into the local teashop for a short break. It was a
little busy, it being the festive season, and as we queued my
husband moved forward and stood next to another woman, with
whom he struck up a conversation until I nudged him in the back
with my carrier bag.
He swears blind that he had mistook her for me, but I saw him
sniffing the air at a wisp of her perfume and he knows full
well that I would never wear anything that smelled remotely
like Old Spice. Besides, didn’t he realize her voice was
that of someone else. I am at a loss to comprehend this behaviour,
he normally hovers around behind me and is what your friend
and colleague calls a ‘trailer’.
Bethany Briars
Dear Bethany,
I must first say that if you are referring to the so-called
owner of the Victorian Teashop when you say “friend and
colleague”, you can quite safely drop the word ‘friend’
and leave it at colleague – if that.
Right, having dispensed with my problems, let’s deal with
yours. Husbands can be like that, Bethany, even ‘trailers’,
given half the chance they’re testing the water and you
have to be prepared to take a hard line. Excuses such as: “I
thought it was you” are very aggravating because they
don’t realise that by failing to recognise you in public,
they are denying your ten years, or so, of marriage. However,
it is quite possible for a man to stop looking at his wife after
a couple of months of marriage, let alone ten years, especially
during sex – but that cuts both ways, and we girls don’t
close our eyes in the hope of ecstasy for nothing – those
brief flashes of Brad Pitt, or Robert Redford (if you’re
my age) can be quite uplifting down below.
Anyway, I find the best solution to your problem is to fail
to recognise your husband in public on a few occasions –
sometimes even on purpose.
Yours truly Aunt Agony
PS You can read all about ‘trailers’ on the weblog
page at the
www.lifeinalens.com/blog.html
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| 5th
December, 2006 |
Dear
Aunt Agony,
Was
I too forward in starting one’s Christmas shopping in
November? I've got nothing to do now.
Yours in anticipation, Ruby Delacroix.
Dear Ms Delacroix,
I always begin the hunt for Christmas presents as soon as
the Autumn Equinox has passed, but here’s my tip, why
go to the shops and spend money when you can just root through
your cupboards and dig out all the old stuff you don’t
need anymore. You’ll only get a few pence for it anyway
at the car boot sale and you’d also have to stand around
in the cold with all those desperados.
Think what Christmas joy your old junk can bring to all those
people you used to call friends – it brings a whole
new meaning to the phrase ‘cupboard love’.
A Very Merry Christmas
Aunt Agony
PS A word of warning. When it comes
to relatives, you’ll probably have to buy them something
because they may well have bought some of your cupboard junk
for you anyway and you could end up giving something back
to the same person who gave it to you in the first place –
worse, if they use the same ‘cupboard retrieval’
technique as you employ, you could end up passing things back
and forth for years. Friends are difficult enough to find
presents for and it does spoil Christmas and make it seem
so unfair having to waste time looking, but relations aren’t
even friends anyway, there’re just people we’re
stuck with, which makes it all the more unpleasant.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| New
5th
December, 2006 |
Dear Aunt,
If you dislike relations so much, why do you call yourself ‘Aunt’.
Aren’t you just making yourself a target of your own criticism?
Yours Truly Helen Goodbody
Dear Helen,
Yes, that’s why it’s agony being an aunt!
Regards, your dearest Aunt.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| New
2nd
December, 2006 |
|
|
Dear Aunt Agony,
While clearing out my attic recently, I found an excellent illustration
of you, which I have enclosed. 
Enjoy
Dear...
Whoever?
You are clearly mistaken, the scribble you sent in bears no
resemblance to me, whatsoever! For a start I would never use
such down-market crockery, let alone a common tea tray made
from tin. The outfit the woman is wearing, who ever she is,
would never suit my delicate complexion and I would never
pose in front of a yellow background.
I
think if all that has not clearly dispelled your erroneous
and perhaps malicious claims, I have had my publisher reproduce
my real likeness once again in the margin.
Yours
Aunt in Agony
|
|
|
| |
 |
| |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| New
16th November, 2006 Dear
Ms Agony,
I
recently bought a wide screen television and sat down with
a nice cup of tea to watch it. Why is it that the movies they
show are still miles wider than the wide screen? Not only
that, normal TV is expanded and just makes everyone look fat!
Yours
truly disgruntled of Knightbridge
Dear
Truly Disgruntled,
I know exactly what you mean. Watching wide screen TV is like
looking through a letter box – not my idea of comfort
at all. I find it rather like drinking a nice cup of tea from
one of those excessively large mugs they give you in some
of the poorer quality teashops you find in shopping malls.
Give me a nice cup and saucer and my old 14 inch Bush
anytime.
I
also take your point about the stretching effect on normal
television. I feel most sorry for people like David Dickinson
and that nice man Mr Elton John who obviously do their utmost
to look trim and then the telly spoils it all for them. Think
of the ridicule that nice little chap Jamie Oliver has to
go through at school!
It's
tough on people like Posh Spice too – looking like a
stick next to David Beckham in OK magazine is one thing, appearing
on the lottery show on BBC1 is quite another. "That Extra
Half an Inch", I think not – it's the extra three
inches she should worry about. Is all that slimming and dieting
worth it? She'd be better off reforming the spice girls and
standing adjacent to Emma Bunton.
Just
think yourself lucky you're not interesting enough to warrant
being on television. I know they say it adds five pounds,
but it's more like two stone now.
Yours
Aunt agony.
(Note
from the designer: Aunt Agony is just jealous. I think Emma
Bunton is fabulous and I wouldn't redesign her for the world)
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
7th
October, 2006 Dear
old Aunt Agony,
I
believe my husband is taking tea with another woman. I found
stains on his 'trouser' and he came home smelling of Darjeeling.
Should I change my brand of tea. We have been together for
twenty-three years and he has never strayed before.
Yours,
with hope in my heart, Evette.
Dear
Evette,
Do
not worry in the slightest about the possibility of your husband
having tea with another women. These things pass and if he
has been happy with you and your brand of tea for over twenty
years I should say that it seems just a fad. With luck, she
may well take sugar and he will then immediately spot trouble
ahead and return home with his tail firmly between his legs.
Your
real worry is the tea-stained 'trouser', which can be very
bothersome indeed. Try dabbing the trouser with a little warm
water with a salt solution and everything should come out
fine. Dab them with your husband still in them for a speedier
remedy to your dilemma.
Yours
with affection, Aunty.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
27th
September, 2006 I
have it on good authority, from no less a personage than Sir
John Betjeman, that my Monty has been seen with a 'very ordinary
little woman', sitting in the ingle-nook of a Bath Teashop.
What am I to do?
best
wishes and praying for the return of sanity.
Beth
from Bath.
Dear
Beth,
This
one particularly worries me because I do rather think you
are heading for a breakdown. Having said that, paraphrasing
your fears of betrayal with poems and literature is quite
common. I should just be thankful that you have picked a very
short poem to paraphrase as this may indicate a short affair
is on the cards and pray to God that your husband is not a
'thumping crook' after all.
I
was in a Bath teashop once and in a ingle-nook, and I can
tell you that it is not the experience it is all cracked up
to be – especially with the ever present threat of a
soot fall or worse. "Little lower than Angles"?
I think not!
Yours
with affection, Aunty.
*For
those of you with little or no literary knowledge I shall
get my webmastermistress or webwoman or whatever to print
out Betjeman's original poem on this page. I can only add
that I am so very glad that it was not in a 'Matlock Bath'
Teashop. The enormity of the scandal would have forced one
to leave the country.
|
|
|
| |
*In
a Bath Teashop
“Let us not speak, for the love
we bear one another –
Let us hold hands and look.”
She,
such a very ordinary
little woman;
He, such a thumping crook;
But both, for a moment, little lower
than the angels
In the teashop’s ingle-nook.
© John Murray publishers, London. From John Betjeman’s
Collected Poems (4th Edition, 1979) |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
25th
September, 2006 Aunt
Agony!
Why aren't teashops ever open at tea time? Either that or
they're just closing when I arrive!
Yours
sincerely an irate tea lover.
Dear
Irate tea lover,
I
know the feeling well. There is no disappointment greater
than that of missing the opportunity to sit and linger over
a good cup of tea and have a chin wag at the appropriate time
of day. However, it must be remembered that tea time in England
is strictly at 4.00pm and people do make the mistake of turning
up at five past.
At
the Victorian Teashop in Matlock Bath the owners do try to
stay open while 5.30pm or even beyond 6.00pm very occasionally,
but at that time it has to be remembered that they are then
forced to endure the nightmarish sight of people walking past
stuffing fish and chips into their mouths without the slightest
regard for their palate and what vinegar may do to spoil the
taste of a good darjeeling. There seems little hope of a change
until perhaps that nice little cook Jamie Oliver gets through
to them that chips are not quite the health food they were
once made out to be.
In
recent years the streets have become swollen with more and
more scenes of 'pigging out' I think they call it, but I do
feel sorry for these people who have quite obviously grown
too fat to eat indoors. I hear that special help is being
offered to them at places all over the country where you see
the sign 'take-a-way'. I have seen it a great deal myself
lately, so it's good to know that help it at hand for these
poor wretches. My advice to you is to go home, draw the blinds
and pour yourself a nice cup of refreshing tea.
Yours
with affection, Aunty.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
21st
September, 2006 Dear
Aunt,
I visited a teashop in Herefordshire the other day and was
shocked to find that they also sold coffee. I was horrified.
I hope you can help in some way.
Yours
sincerely, Shocked of Reading.
Dear
Shocked but not forgotton,
If
I was from Reading or had to live anywhere near the place
I would be in shock too – but enough of my hates and
fears. Let's deal with yours.
Please relax at once. Take a deep breath, because what I have
to tell you is quite disturbing. You will be shocked again
no doubt to find out that the owners of The Victorian
Teashop in Matlock Bath also serve
coffee. Not only that, they offer it in all sorts of trumped
up guises such as cappuccino, latte and espresso – they
even sell instant! What's the world coming to?
Worse
than this though, some people come in and actually ask for
coffee!
Thankfully
there are still some discerning folk about though because
some, unsure as to whether a 'teashop' sells coffee, check
first, much to the disgruntlement of the owners who are usually
unnecessarily abrupt with them, mumbling something like: "Of
course we effing do you nerd". These poor people, having
found out that it is not a fully fledged teashop that stands
bravely by its flagship product, leave immediately in disgust
and good for them I say!
Always
yours Aunt
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|