Mrs Hoover

Brighton’s leading landlady




Hostmother, performer, author and icon of Englishness – Mrs Joyce Hoover extends the hand of international friendship.










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I hope you’re ready for the Jubilee. I certainly am!
I’ve got 300 metres of best Poundland bunting, 150 union jack paper plates and cups, bendy plastic straws in red, white and blue, plastic forks and spoons (that are not bendy), royal doilies, loyal streamers, giant party poppers (plus one giant party pooper, which is my husband, Leslie!), Engelbert Humperdink horror masks for the grandchildren, not to mention a selection of hand-held flags to wave. (There – I have mentioned them, and I just said not to!)
What’s more, I’ve got enough Best of Both (medium) and ‘basics’ range sliced ham to feed the whole of East Sussex. Thank goodness the other ladies from the Hove Hanging Basket & Loose Cover Society have rallied round to help with buttering and cucumber-slicing duties. Mrs Baker, typically, has gone off at a tangent with a hare-brained scheme to make a life-sized effigy of Her Majesty the Queen and Prince Philip in raspberry jelly.
What a spectacle that’s going to be! Her and her three sons (by different fathers) trying to carry it to the street party, having been in the pub all morning, no doubt. They’ll be wobbly enough already, without the jelly to cope with! It’ll be a miracle if they get it onto a trestle table without decapitating the royal pair on the bunting. And as I said to Mr Partlett at number 181: It’s a health and safety nightmare: if this heatwave continues we could have a river of red running down the middle of Davigdor Road!




Thursday, Jan 13 2011 05:52 (My Diary)

Had a nice chat with my new Colombian girl, Rosa...


I Had a nice chat with my new Colombian girl, Rosa. She told me a lot of things about her home country that I never knew before.

Apparently, they have a proper government with a president and a council of ministers, and they even have elections every four years, like we do. She insisted that the rest of the world had the wrong image of her country. “They think we are all drug smugglers, or bandits!” she wailed.

“And kidnappers,” I reminded her.
“Yes, yes, all that. It’s so unfair!”

“Stereotypes are unfair, Rosa,” I said. “Some people in Europe associate us British with excessive drinking and hooliganism, yet I don’t know a single person with an ASBO*. Except of course for Mrs Baker at number 181 Davigdor Road.”

I was also surprised to learn that her country is in South America and used to be a Spanish colony; I’d always thought it was a part of Canada and had been a British colony.

* Anti-Social Behaviour Order, issued to individuals in recognition of their contribution to lawlessness in Britain, and often worn as a ‘badge of honour’ by ‘feral youths’. (See also: Hoodie, Hooray Henry, Prince Harry)


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