Gina Collia-Suzuki's Blog – January 2009 Archive (5)

'An Interview with Pat Guppy' for 'Her Ladyshipness Magazine'

Questions posed by Hyacinth Bootley-Smythe



Q: You chose to have a quiet funeral, with only family and close friends attending. Why was that?



A: Well, as you can imagine, I am such an incredibly popular and well-loved local personage that the guest list, had I not decided to make it a small affair, would have been hundreds of pages long. To give you some idea of how well-loved my dear Benjamin was, the local… Continue

'An Interview with Pat Guppy' for 'Her Ladyshipness Magazine'

Questions posed by Hyacinth Bootley-Smythe



Q: Firstly, I'd like to offer my condolences for the loss of your husband. Perhaps you could tell us a little about your husband?



A: Benjamin was a good and honest man, loved by everyone who knew him. He never took a drink in his life or raised his voice to a living soul. He was a good Christian man, very involved in the church and a doer of charitable works. Very… Continue

I spent years planning to write, thinking about writing, and talking about writing. What I didn't do for a very long time was actually write. What gave me the kick I needed to get me going? I almost died.



I was watching the X-Files one Sunday night, eating a brand of crisps that I'm not going to name, for fear of being sued (the reason will become clear as I go on), when I began to heat up. My lower legs began to itch, so I scratched them. Then my upper legs began to itch... my lower… Continue

Referring to my neighbours, Richard asked, here, 'Do you feel able to say what the worst thing they ever did was?'



I have a lot to work with, so this took some thought. I couldn't choose just one thing, so I went for three. Third place would have to go to my neighbours' attempts to squash me under the wheels of their car. Luckily I am agile enough to fling myself out of harm's… Continue

I've been an avid collector of antiques for a number of years, and one of the things you learn when you collect antiques is that one man's rubbish is another man's treasure. I'd never, however, taken this entirely literally until the first time I saw Mr N, my delightful neighbour, up to his elbows in the garbage bags that my husband had taken out to be picked up by the refuse collectors the following morning. With bare hands, and with shirt sleeves rolled up past his elbows, he sifted through… Continue