Spalding Guardian columnist John Ward's latest madcap tales

Madcap inventor John Ward offers us another peek behind the curtain at his crazy adventures.

This is that time of the year that certain memories come back of assorted ‘run-up’s to the festive period, with one that still sticks out was when I was a newspaper boy delivering the papers.

I did it for a couple of years prior to leaving school but as an insight into the ‘real world’ it was a priceless experience in more ways that I didn’t know about - or appreciated - at the time.

The summer months were brilliant as the weather then was reasonably consistent but winter then was ‘pay-back time’ in a sense as I encountered many a frost or snow covered morning as various times I slid over with the weight of my heavy paper bag.

My customers along the way, usually going off to work etc, were okay but some were borderline ‘nut jobs’ in many respects.

Dithering Doris, not her real name, was a customer who stood inside her front bay window looking out and waiting for me to arrive with her copy of the Daily Mirror (other titles were available of course) as she rushed out and grabbed it from me.

She then flicked the pages over to the horoscope section: she then read every word out to me, as if I was interested, and then based on those few words of what the day/future in general might hold for her then asked me: ‘Well-what do you think? - Is it worth going to work today? - What do you reckon I should do? - And be honest with me’

My stock answer, based on info given to me by the previous paperboy, I trod carefully so I basically replied that once I finished my round I would be going off to school as that seemed to please her so she then went back in home, got her coat then off she went to work.

So there I was a mere 14-year-old advising adults on if they should go to their places of gainful employment but this was regular, nearly an everyday feature of the round.

Years later she passed away as my mum told me but I like to think she was possibly advised better on the ‘departure process’ from another source rather than the horoscope column.

Another borderline case was ‘Rambling Raymond’ at number 47 with the broken front gate, who took the Daily Express and Financial Times on a Friday, who was not into what the stars had to say, via the Daily Mirror or other informed sources, but had another font of supposed information or advice.

Knowing my delivery time schedule he would be sitting in or near his car as I arrived, taking the paper as he would tell me if I was on-time, late or early as the case might be.

However his ‘communication channel’ with the great unseen world was thus: he would often tell me: ‘I hear the voices - they tell me things’ which to a mere14-year-old (me) was a bit daunting back then as he told me on many occasions: ‘Great things were going to happen to mankind (now updated to person-kind) both bad, evil and good’ but nothing was actually specific but being a Financial Times reader, Friday edition, anything was quite likely thinking about it now.

Mr Wright took the Times daily but was strange as I could see him through the frosted glass front door standing at the bottom of his stairs, arms folded. Then, as I pushed the paper through the letterbox, he would go and pick it up almost as if he was on sentry duty.

One morning close to Christmas Eve he opened the door and nearly frightened the life out of me. I was expecting a tip of the financial kind like some customers had given - but he then ‘interrogated’ me as he wanted to know if I ‘was responsible for decimating his rhubarb patch’ by the side of his house. I didn’t honestly know he had a rhubarb patch as there was a fence around the house, but it seems ‘some bounder had ridden their cycle - many times - over my rhubarb patch and I want the culprit!’.

I stood there dumbfounded - I do a good dumbfound - as I asked the logical question of ‘when did it happen?’ as he replied ‘during the summer but it’s a process of elimination as you’re the last person on my list of possibles’ (charming I thought - I mean, a mench in the first three would have been nice, but last?).

Anyway the ‘Phantom Rhubarb Crusher’ was never found as far as I am aware, but it didn’t spoil my Christmas that year so I close by wishing you a Happy and Prosperous New Year however do be careful because as I pointed out the ‘Phantom Rhubarb Crusher’ has never been caught so far.