1st December

Ann, diaries in loft reveal secret of sisters. Rosemary continued her story of the twin brothers.  Joan saw bullfight on trip to Spain. John, story of stealing from the army. Joan Read tour of the USA and Paris. Sheila left school early to work in a typing pool. Sue holiday in Dartmoor after breakdown. Brian Richard the Lion Heart and the crusades. Pat, what happened on the U3A outing to Okehampton.
Next meeting in January.   I won't say a word.
My story follows.

Things might have been different. 

Things might have been different.Would there have been a second world war if

Hitler's mother Klara hadn't worked in the Rothschild's household as a servant? Some people have suggested that her son's real father was a Rothschild. Hitler's recorded father Alois a customs officer may well have been set up financially to marry her. Even Alois ethnicity is suspect. There was no named father on his birth certificate, his mother, Hitler's Grandmother also worked in a rich Jewish Household Alois may also have been conceived by one of the family's wayward sons. Gene tests of Hitler's known relation in 2010 were found to have genes linked to the European Jew the Ashkenazi.

Incidentally the Jews who actually came from and lived in Palestine through the ages are Sephardic Jews and are of the same kin as the Arabs. The Sephardic Jews are very religious and the Ashkenazi are the brainy ones who win all the Nobel prizes and run the banks.

There is another factor that made Hitler the man he was. When Hitler's mother died from breast cancer Hitler believed her Jewish doctor never treated her properly, she died one year after diagnosis. If the doctor had been a true German his hatred against the Jews might not have crystallised into such virulent hatred.

Little decisions can alter the march of history and it applies to us as well.

Every time we make a decision we change the universe. I parked in Asda preventing some one else from parking there and because of that their whole life is changed for the good or the better I shall never know. I must be the cause of so many things that could be calamitous or fabulous without my intervention people's lives would be completely different.

Latest crack pot scientific theory is the universe is a bubbling cauldron of possibilities and it doesn't really exist unless we look at it. The same people say a butterfly in China flapping its wings may through a myriad of coincidences cause a hurricane in the USA. To think of the damage I could do by parking where I normally do each week in Asda. Next week I shall park in a different place and bring chaos to some one else.

Maybe that one act will prevent the butterfly from emerging from its chrysalis and no butterfly to stretch its wings in the sun and then fly off causing all that chaos in the USA. Even better next week I'll park in Morrison's.

27 Oct

Pat &  Brian's today, no Sue. Sheila last month's best story wrote about the difference now from 78 vinyl records and gramophones. My story all about an old soldier living in the past. Joan  a happy spinster. Rosemary  continued the same story mentioning Ebola. John treading the boards after an army career.
Brian convoys to Russia.
Joan Read very short story in a blink.
Next month Things might have.

Both Pat and Ann won

Ann's
A Trooper Till The Last
I was raised on a farm in Kerry, Southern Ireland. At the end of the day when work was finished, we were left to roam in the fields that ran right down to the sea. We loved to race down and across the sand into the waves of the Atlantic Ocean where we would splash about in the surf. Our master was a kind man who cared for his animals and although we worked hard pulling the ploughs and carts, we were well looked after. The times were dark though. It was 1915 and there was a war raging in France and as well as the men and even boys enlisting, they were now recruiting more horses. I was taken from the farm along with two other of my companions and shipped to England. We were landed at Avonmouth and taken, along with horses that had arrived from as far away as America, to a place called Romsey, which is near Southampton. On arrival we were put into kraals. Each group became a squadron and had its own vets and shoeing forge. There were shelters and as many horses had travelled from overseas, there were verandas for greater protection. This also helped the men in the bad weather who oversaw us. We began training and were selected for various jobs. Some were trained to pull the gun carriages, others were chosen to pull canal barges while many more were chosen to carry the cavalry. I was one of those and at first found it quite strange, as I had never been ridden before on the farm. I was a quick learner and enjoyed the discipline and routine. Generally it was a happy place, but on one occasion there was an accident while one of the squadron was training. A new horse became restless causing the whole group to bolt. Three riders were thrown and one died of his injuries. From time to time there would also be sadness around the depot as news reached us of a ship carrying a contingent of horses that had been sunk at sea by the enemy and some of our Romsey comrades had perished. There was one occasion when there were over three hundred that had died. We tried not to think about this as we knew our time would come to be shipped overseas. After many weeks of our training we were assessed and were ready for our time to say goodbye to our friends at the Romsey Remount Depot and head for pasture new.
There were about two hundred and fifty horses in our column as we headed for the docks in Southampton. The slowest ones were placed at the front with a rider on the lead horse and about thirty-five other riders were placed at intervals all along the column until the last horse. An officer rode ahead of the column to slow the traffic and make sure the road was clear. People came out to see us and wave us on our way. I suppose we did make quite a sight as the column seemed to weave along into
the distance. On arrival at the docks we were counted onto the ship and every horse had a nosebag of feed tied around its neck and hay in front of them. We were escorted to France where we disembarked and were taken to the town. There we were met and were allocated our new master. Mine was a Captain Stanley Williams. I liked him from the start. I felt he was a good man and felt a great confidence in him. We were taken to the front line and the sights and conditions I saw were awful. Underfoot the mud was so deep that I saw horses stuck up to their bellies in it unable to free themselves. The stench of death was all around and the sounds of the wounded and dying, horses and men were heart-wrenching. My Captain and I were one now. We knew and trusted one another implicitly and I knew whatever we encountered, I would be a trooper till the last.

Pat's

A Trooper to the last

Violet was sitting on the minibus on her way to visit a haunted castle. These old buildings were always thought to be haunted she thought to herself. Surveying the passengers, who all seemed to know each other, she reflected on the last few months of her life.

It had been turned up side down after the unexpected departure of her 75 year old husband, who had run off with a younger woman of 60. Good luck to her thought Violet after the initial shock. He had not been a good husband and could be violent after a few drinks. She thought back to when they had first met and should have spotted the signs, but being young and naïve she fell head over heels and that was that.

After the separation the house was sold and she purchased a tiny bungalow with her share. It was in a small village about 10 miles away. As her family and friends lived in the area she didn't want to move too far away. She knew no one here, and noted that the only active place was the church. Although she had not been particularly religious she decided to go to the service one Sunday morning. There was tea and biscuits in the tiny hall afterwards and a very friendly lady introduced herself and persuaded her to sign up for the annual outing as two people had dropped out.

There were two mini buses full of ladies of a certain age plus a few couples. Upon alighting from the buses they surveyed the imposing castle. It was around 800 years old, the guide informed us, and was still in the same family, the present occupants lived in one wing on the far side. Some of the rooms had recently been opened to the public, hence the visit. They found the tour most interesting and gazed at the portraits of their ancestors along the corridors. In one room a particular painting arrested Violet's attention, and she waited until most of the visitors had moved on and went back to study it. The painting was of the very young lads marching, laughing and singing off to the first World War. My grandfather could be one of them she thought. They were the real troopers till the end, and so very few returned. Reluctantly taking her eyes off the painting she went out to join the others. The others were nowhere in sight. Neither could she hear them through the thick walls. Looking down the dimly lit passage she saw a grey figure coming towards her. Violet was transfixed, and when the apparition beckoned her to follow, off she went into a fairly large bedroom. The grey lady had a lovely smile as she sank into the fireside chair, motioning Violet to sit in the other one. She must have dozed off as upon opening her eyes, she was alone. Feeling very tired she slipped off her shoes and lay down on the bed, not noticing the skeleton lying next to her.

Downstairs, the group were having their tea and cake. Someone said where's the new lady”? Oh I think she is in the queue for the ladies. Afterwards they all climbed aboard. “where is Violet” someone asked.”.Oh, she is probably on the other bus”. Off they went, it had been such a lovely day.” Anyone see a ghost”? A lady asked, as they merrily went on their way.

September meeting

Nine of us today but ten stories as John E read out Rosemary's continuation of the saga about a gay and straight twins. Ann's all about buying a valuable piece of china as part of a job lot. My story about Aunt Hilda and opening up a shop. Joan all about a reliable second hand car. Pat invite to wedding and Harly motor bike. Sue wedding dress and uncomfortable shoe. Joan R The "one" who left for NZ. BrianFinal item a bargain. John a colleague has a ffair with boss.

Next month  A trouper till the last - or trooper if you like.

“FORCED TO BUY”

Betty stared at the envelope that had plopped through the letter box.  It wasn't very often that the postman had a letter for her and this one looked official.  She picked it up and saw the logo of her local council.   “Oh dear” she thought “I hope it’s not more forms to fill in”.  Since George died a few weeks ago she seems to have had to fill in so many forms, as well as telling family and friends about his dying that she felt in quite a spin and utterly exhausted.  On opening the envelope she looked at the small card it contained.  With wonder she realized that it wasn't a form to fill in but a bus pass!  What with everything happening she had forgotten all about it.  These last few weeks had been difficult for her to get anywhere because she couldn't drive and the bus fares had not long been put up – again!  “At last, something that is worth having for a change that we haven’t been FORCED TO BUY”  she thought. 

Time past and things settled into a routine.  She popped to the shops most days and a couple of times she visited the big town  - using her new bus pass of course!  She felt wonderful and free.  She could go out to anywhere she felt like.  She had loved George and being married but he wasn’t here anymore and she had to get on with her life and decided that using her bus pass was the first step.  She sometimes met friends for coffee or the occasional meal or pictures – whatever took her fancy.  A new ‘fancy’ was looking round the charity shops.  There was a new one that she liked.  The clothes were arranged well and the shop always smelled nice.  It had a friendly ‘feel’ about the place which made her enjoy just being in there, so when a notice went on the door asking for volunteers to do anything from a couple of hours to full time she jumped at the chance.  She chose two hours on Wednesday mornings, so on her first day they gave her some training and lots of advice on treating  the customers.  The two hours past so quickly and she loved it.  She enjoyed all that it entailed and felt useful for the first time since George died.  Betty knew he would have been pleased for her and she also thanked the day she had her lifeline – the cherished  bus pass!

25th August

Joan & Jacks on a very wet "summer's" day. John started Moving to London to a spooky house. Sheila didn't move for school photo. Brian end of WW1 for a tommy. Pat dog and a cat. Joan 38 years in one house.  Rosemary continuation of saga. Ann trip to Sweden and the wooden moose. My story taking it easy.

Joan Read got 5 votes a clear winner.

Didn't Move

He threw himself into the ditch he was so tired he had been running for hours but he had to keep going they couldn't catch him he knew if they did he would be chained and beaten like Joey. But he was smarter than Joey he made for the town but he would head for the mountains. He would just rest for a while. He came to with a start he must move he got up and looked around all was quite no men or dogs. He took off across the field and reached the base of the hill he started to climb that's when he heard the dogs. His heart pumping he kept on going higher and higher over boulders through dense woods he had to find somewhere for the night and he was so thirsty. He listened he could hear water he made for the sound then stopped he didn't move because there was a clearing with a cabin smoke coming out of the chimney and an old man pointing a shot gun at him "What do you want" but Thaddeus could not answer he fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

When he opened his eyes he was lying on the floor of the cabin covered with a course blanket but oh he was warm he looked around, the old man was stirring something in a pot on the stove. "You hungry" Thaddeus nodded "Get to table then" the old man gave him a bowl of stew full of meat and a great hunk of bread and a drink which he later found out was called coffee. "What you running from" so Thaddeus told him everything how when he was seven his ma and pa died no one to look after him he was sent to the farm. Here they were up by five in the morning and worked until nine or ten at night if you fell behind you were beaten all they had to eat was bread, cheese and on a rare occasion meat in soup only water to drink. The old man said "So you are not running from the law well if you want to stay here you will have to earn your keep". Over the next few months Thaddeus was introduced to Bess the donkey Mary, Kate and Ben the goats plus the chickens so they always had goats milk and fresh eggs. The old man taught him how to trap a beaver and preserve the skin snare rabbits and squirrels and also how to shoot a gun for meat to see them through the winter months which would soon be upon them and what trees to chop down for wood. One morning the old man said "Time to take our pelts into town" Thaddeus was not to keen but they loaded everything onto Bess and made there way down the mountain. They went into the general store where the old man greeted the storekeeper whose name was Tom who said "Good day Ethan" this was the first time Thaddeus had heard the old mans name." Looks like you've had a good season"" Aye" Ethan replied "all down to my nephew here Clay meet Tom". They bought feed and grain for Bess and the goats flour, fat.coffee and some new work clothes. The old man said as they had extra to spend they would go to the washhouse for a bath something Thaddeus had never done before.

As they were making there way back to the cabin Bess loaded with goods Thaddeus saw one of the men from the farm it was a shock the old man knew something was wrong he grabbed his arm "don't forget you are not that skinny kid that turned up months ago you have another life now." Thaddeus took a deep breath and thanked the Lord above that he guided him into the arms of Ethan not that he could every call him that he always called him sir. Over the following years they would make many trips to the store some years were very good so they always had money when supplies were low. He would stay at the cabin for the rest of his life and when the old man passed away Thaddeus engraved on his cross here lies Ethan who saved my life and soul Thaddeus.

28 th July

Chez nous for creative writing today. More excuses for not writing a story such as too busy painting a kitchen and hospital appointments but we stalwarts met all eight of us.
Rosemary continued her story about the gay man who had a twin brother who wasn't. An unexpected birth and the start of romance. John gave an account of his memories during the war.I wrote about a vicar's help in easing traffic problems. Joan recounted farming tales and losing her story under a place mat. Pat about famous people and gossip. Ann a complicated science fiction story following up from a previous one told some years back. Sheila garden seasons and enjoying it.


Next meeting Joan & Jack's 25th   Didn't move.

Sue had four  votes.

‘IN ORDER TO’

Trudy drifted through the crowds of people, all seeming to have an urgent destination, and wondered what on earth she was doing here, in the centre of town.

She had woken that morning to the prospect of another empty day, like all the others since it had happened. She dragged herself out of bed and drew back the curtains to reveal the grey scene before her. The familiar street was busy at this hour, with neighbours setting off for work or taking the children to school. There was Sally over the road, scolding little James as he dragged his school bag and dawdled, head down, out to the car. Mr Turner, next door, was pecking his wife on the cheek and heading briskly, briefcase in hand, for the station. “Yes, everyone has a purpose and a goal in mind for the day – except me,” sighed Trudy dismally, as she made her way downstairs and into her neat, empty kitchen.

She stared out of the window as she waited for the kettle to boil. Tea, the great cure-all, or so everyone would have you think, was automatically the first thing she did to fill the emptiness of her day. How pathetic! Is this the only thing she can do in order to get through yet another bleak day? She suddenly slammed her open hand down on the worktop with a loud crack, startling herself with her vehemence. “No, no, no,” she said out loud, “I must do something today, but what? “

As she made the tea, took it to the table and sat stirring it round and round, she gazed, mesmerised, into the cup, the voice of her doctor suddenly popping into her head, saying, “One day at a time, just take one day at a time.” Well, she bloody well wasn’t going to spend one more day stuck here, moping. No, she would go out, but where? Well, she ruminated, she could get the bus into town for a start. She brightened at the prospect. Would she be brave enough to actually have lunch out? Well, why not? The doctor’s voice again, saying, “You deserve to think of yourself, you are worth it.” Yes, that was the trouble, she’d never put her own wishes forward forcefully enough, but what was stopping her now? She’d do it!

With that thought, Trudy jumped up from the table, dumped her cup in the sink and didn’t even think of washing it up and putting it away as usual. She dashed upstairs, suddenly invigorated, had a quick shower and dressed with care before letting herself out of the house and walking to the bus stop.

Now here she was - drifting. This wouldn’t do at all. What was the time? It was almost twelve and a respectable time to look for a place to eat. “I know,” she thought, “I’ll go to that pretty café down by the harbour. I know it’s a grey day, but it’ll perk me up to see all the boats there and the sea beyond the harbour wall.” She set off and soon reached the harbour side, with its row of colourful shops. She’d forgotten how interesting it was down here. She stopped to look in the window of a small dress shop she hadn’t seen before. Perhaps she’d pop in there after she’d had lunch, she thought, and felt pleasantly excited at the prospect.

She walked on towards the café, gazing around her with renewed interest and almost walked right past it, stopping abruptly and turning to the door.

“Ouch,” said an amused voice behind her, as her heel came down sharply on someone’s shoe. Looking up she encountered the disarming smile and piercing blue eyes of the owner of the foot. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I was day-dreaming and nearly passed right by the café; do excuse me,” she stammered.

“Oh, that’s okay,” said the stranger, “I’m heading there too.” He held the door open, gesturing with his other hand for her to precede him inside. “It looks as though we are the only two people here. Are you meeting someone, or could I ask you to join me for a bite to eat? I’m new to the area and it would be good to chat to someone local. I’m off that yacht over there but don’t know anyone here or anything about the area. I just thought it looked an interesting place to explore.”

Trudy smiled for the first time that day, nodded happily and thought, “Thank you, Dr Marsh,” as she took the window seat held out for her by the smiling stranger.

June meeting

Really nice morning in Bri/Pat's garden just eight of us John started with a tale of a foorballers dream to play in Brazil and that is what it was. Ann musings of summer and story telling. Sheila related their visit to the American museum in Bath. Joan E a romantic story. Joan R all about an assault course and bonding.
Three stories with two votes each. Pat, Brian and Bill' stories

Next month "in order to"

Pat's

For two years Penny and Ben had been dating. He was a lot of fun to be with, full of ideas and enthusiasm.

Drink a glass of wine outside their local pub, Ben asked suddenly, out of the blue, could you lend me £ 2,000? He knew that she was a good saver and had a few thousand in the bank, all learned from her mother's cautious ways. What could this new venture be? “when we leave here I will show you what I have in mind”, and refused further discussion. She knew better than to push him, so they went on to enjoy their evening.

“Lets leave the car here and walk” he said. That sounded great to Penny who loved to walk anywhere. After 15 minutes they were in the center of the small seaside town where they lived. The main road with several boarded up shops greeted them. What a dispiriting scene. Ben only had eyes for one thing, the abandoned toilets going down under the road. Much to the shoppers and shop keepers alike they had been closed for years. Loos brought footfall.

“Listen to me” he said “ I intend to make this a small center of curiosity, where people will want to come. It will also help toward the regeneration of this miserable part of town. I have a meeting with the town council tomorrow, lets hope they will listen to me”.

The BIG IDEA was to turn the old loos into a boutique style mini coffee shop. “I know I can convert it...I can see it in my head. With help and advice from his father and clever friends, I know it can be done. Water and electricity were were there”.

Penny stared at him...who would want to go down there to for food and drink? This is a mad scheme, what would you call it Pennies?” she said sarcastically.” Brilliant idea

he said “ now you are getting into it”.

Later that evening she duly transferred £2000. into his account on her smart phone.

At the council meeting their were two long incredulous faces and younger members who were quite open to the idea.

Sometime later the keys were handed over and Penny, Ben, Dad and three friends climbed down the whiffy gloomy steps. “Just look at the tiles and the ironwork” they enthused. Out came the tape measures, then another thought. What about knocking through to the old gents next door?

Permission was finally granted and they set to work in earnest. A Local Upstart loan was granted from the only bank left in town, and work began with not a little interest from the inhabitants. The local newsletter ran an article which was picked up by some of the dailies and word spread with very mixed reactions.

Eventually, Open Day arrived with much fanfare. Ben was surprised at the size of the crowd, it included the bank manager, the grumpy counsellors who had felt obliged to come, family, friends and the curios. Penny, who was there to cut the ribbon, looked beautiful he thought. He was pleased that he named it “Penny”.

During the following months there was always a queue outside, not for the original purpose though! Most came out of curiosity and brought there friends along. It became the “in” place. Penny had her investment returned with interest.

One evening, in the pub, Ben looked into her eyes and said “ You know that old sad red phone box with the smashed windows...

Brian's 

OBLIGED TO

THE LAST AND BEST JOB THAT I EVER HAD, WAS WORKING IN A LARGE HISTORICAL HOUSE IN HAMPSHIRE.

I HAD TO LEARN ALL THE HISTORY OF THE FAMILY,

THE HOUSE AND GROUNDS, GO BACK TO THE 13^th CENTURY. IT WAS BOUGHT FROM HENRY 8^th WHEN HE HAD THE MONASTERIES DESTROYED, 1538.

I WAS GIVEN A FILE, 180 PAGES ON

MY JOB. IT WAS IN TWO PARTS, FIRST, I WAS DRESSED AS THE BUTLER OF THE FAMILY IN THE LATE VICTORIAN TIME. THIS MAN WAS A REAL PERSON, BY THE NAME OF GEORGE PLEASANT, HE WAS WITH THE FAMILY FOR 54 YEARS. HE IS BURIED IN THE LOCAL CHURCH YARD.

MY SECOND PART OF THE JOB, TWICE A WEEK, WAS TO SHOW TOURIST AROUND THE HOUSE, PLUS THE PRIVATE ROOMS, TELLING THEM THE HISTORY OF THE FAMILY, HOUSE, AND GROUNDS.

WE HAD PEOPLE FROM ALL OVER THE WORLD, AND MANY FAMOUS PERSONS ALSO STAYED, IN THE PRIVATE PARTS OF THE HOUSE.

WHEN THE FAMILY WERE NOT AT HOME, PART OF MY JOB WAS TO SHOW PEOPLE AROUND THE PRIVATE ROOMS.

THIS TOUR WOULD TAKE ABOUT THREE QUARTERS OF A HOUR.

HAVING TO DO TWO OR THREE, ONE AFTER THE OTHER, CANBE A LITTLE TIRING.

ONE DAY I WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF MY LUNCH BREAK, WHEN THE LADY OF THE HOUSE CAME IN TO THE LUNCH ROOM AND ASKED ME TO GIVE HER A TOUR AND TELL HER THE HISTORY OF THE PLACE. ALL 700YEARS!

NOW THIS LADY HAD LIVED HERE FOR 18YEARS.

I THOUGHT THAT SHE WAS CHECKING ME OUT TO SEE IF I WAS GIVING THE TOURIST THE RIGHT INFORMATION.

I FELT OBLIGED TO SHOW HER AROUND.

WHEN WE LEFT THE LUNCH ROOM SHE TOLD ME IN A WHISPERED VOICE.

“ I AM GOING ON A CRUISE AND HAVE TO GIVE A TALK ON MY HUSBAND, HISTORY AND THE HOUSE. AND I NEED TO BRUSH UP ON IT ALL”.

IT TOOK ME ONE HOUR AND HALF, TO TAKE HER THROUGH IT ALL.

ALL THE WHILE SHE WAS MAKING NOTE, AND ASKING QUESTIONS. WELL AS LUCK WOULD HAVE IT, I KNEW THE ANSWERS

AFTER THE TOUR ,SHE THANKED ME, AND SAID SHE WOULD TELL THE HEAD GUIDE THAT SHE WAS WELL INFORMED, ON THE HISTORICAL SIDE OF THE FAMILY.

FOUR WEEKS LATER I SAW THE LADY, SHE SAID THE TRIP WAS A DELIGHT, AND THE TALK WENT VERY WELL.

WHEW!

Bill's

Obliged to. Once again I'm obliged to dream up another story. It is getting harder to do so, it's 2pm. Two hours past already and nothing comes to mind. How long have we been doing this mental torture 6/7 years perhaps? Over seventy stories completed? I shall have to look on the blog next time I access the computer. When we started this game I was a lot younger even had hair, well perhaps not but I certainly was a lot better looking. All those stories I've written, stories of entities feeding off our emotional energies, liberated women making progress in a man's world. Browbeaten men, stories of all types. Does this cerebral taxing make one smarter or at least help slow the gradual decline of the grey cells? I think so for instance the other night I dreamed up a joke which was well received by a small group of people. No idea who they were and on awakening I could still remember the punch line. It went like this The scene is in Australia and a soft townie in the suburbs asks a sun burnished bushmen he met in a pub where the outback began? The bushmen studies the man and then says dismissively - get lost! I found that funny but there again in the middle of the night everything seems funny. Did all this U3A stimulus encourage the creative juices to flow if I can use that expression

I must stop now to go for my walk even though it is raining. Hope when I come back the flow of creative thought will continue.

An hour later I'm back wet and bedraggled, first thing I did was to put the kettle on for a hot cup of tea. Then from the comfort of the armchair a look at the unfinished crossword and the last clue a witty saying which with the help of an electronic dictionary turned out to be an epigram. New one to me but now I've woven it into my story it may stay in my declining memory bank. Back to the computer room - now what were we talking about? Obliged to – should we be obliged to do anything. An obligation is where we are pressurised by society or our conscience to do something we really do not want to do. Should we really be obliged to? If we do we won't be our authentic selves something that is now popular with the new age believers but this is a question for the philosophy group so I'll leave that to another time. All I need now is a very amusing epigram to finish off this ramble. Time passes.

Three weeks later in preparation for tomorrow's meeting I read this story again and I had completely forgotten the joke and the epigram word so I have to report all this work doesn't help the old brain much.

May 26th at Sues

Clouds and rain today but we enjoyed a friendly get together. John started and as he won most votes his story is at the end. Sheila followed by telling of Friday's meeting with Mike and Elizabeth. Ann a sombre recall of holiday memories. Sues - busy in garden looking back at life. Rosemary continued the saga about the queer wedding. My story was about a cuckooed husband getting revenge. Joan a happy holiday. Joan R lots of pets greyhounds. Pat entertainment manager jilted and is sick on boat - twice. Brian   all mystical in May.

FOR WHAT REMAINS

JOE LOVED HIS ALLOTMENT, AND HIS WIFE, IN THAT ORDER. ALICE WAS A GOOD WIFE, BUT SHE SAW VERY LITTLE OF JOE, WHO SEEMED TO LIVE DOWN AT HIS PATCH OF PARADISE. HE WORKED AT THE LOCAL COAL MINE AND AFTER HIS LONG SHIFT, WOULD COME HOME AND EAT HIS DINNER , BEFORE RUSHING DOWN THE ROAD TO HIS PRIZE WINNING PLOT. ALICE HAD BECOME USED TO JOE'S OBSESSION, BUT KEPT HER THOUGHTS TO HERSELF. SHE WAS QUITE A PRIVATE LADY ,WHO DID GO DOWN TO THE ALLOTMENT OCCASIONALLY JUST TO LOOK OVER JOES HANDIWORK, BUT OF COURSE DID NOT HAVE THE SAME OBSESSIVE FEELINGS ABOUT IT, AS HE DID. SHE DID BROACH THE SUBJECT OF HIS TIME SPENT 

THERE, BUT JOE TOOK NO NOTICE AND THREW HIMSELF INTO MORE TIME CONSUMING GARDENING. THE ONLY TIME SPENT AWAY FROM HIS PASSION, WAS THE GARDEN CLUB MEETING NIGHTS. HE WAS ALWAYS A VERY KEEN MEMBER, AND GAVE OUT MORE GARDENING ADVICE THAN HE EVER RECEIVED. THE OTHER MEMBERS ALL FELT THAT HE WAS A BIT OF A SHOWOFF WHO WAS NOT AFRAID TO LET PEOPLE KNOW HOW FINE A GARDENER HE WAS. HE DIDN'T SEEM TO MIND WHAT THEY THOUGHT OF HIM. HIS ONLY CONCERN WAS HIS ALLOTMENT. WHEN DOWN AT HIS PATCH HE LIKED TO LOOK OVER THE OTHER HOLDER'S ALLOTMENTS, BUT IN HIS SMUG WAY FELT THAT THEY WERE NOT A PATCH ON HIS. THERE WERE REGULAR SHOWINGS OF THE PRODUCE GROWN, AND JOE OF COURSE MADE SURE THAT HIS OFFERINGS WERE UP THERE WITH THE BEST. HE GREW HUGE AMOUNTS OF VEG BUT NEVER FELT LIKE GIVING ANY OF IT TO HIS NEIGHBOURS. WELL THE BIG SHOW WAS THE LEAK GROWERS EVENT, WHICH WAS A FEIRCELY CONTESTED AFFAIR. ALL THE CONTESTANTS HAD THEIR OWN METHODS WHICH THEY DID THEIR BEST TO KEEP SECRET FROM EACH OTHER, AND OF COURSE JOE WAS THE MOST SECRETIVE. HE FELT THAT HE HAD TO WIN THIS YEARS CONTEST, AND TOOK TO SPENDING EVEN LONGER HOURS DOWN AT THE PLOT NURTURING HIS LEEKS. HE EVEN SPENT HOURS INTO THE EVENING WORKING ON THEM. HIS WIFE REMARKED ON THE EVEN LONGER HOURS JOE WAS AT THE ALLOTMENT, BUT JOE IN HIS USUAL OFFHAND MANNER DISMISSED ALICE'S CONCERNS, AND CARRIED ON IN HIS OWN WAY. HE THOUGHT THAT "FOR WHAT REMAINS OF MY TIME TO GET THE BEST IN SHOW I NEED TO BE THERE AS MUCH AS I CAN" WELL COME THE DAY OF THE SHOW AND JOE WAS UP AT THE CRACK OF DAWN WITH THE FEELING THAT "TODAYS MY DAY". HE WAS SURE THAT HIS PLANTS WERE THE BEST. HE QUICKLY ATE HIS BREAKFAST, AND DASHED OFF TO THE ALLOTMENTS, AND WAS SURPRISED TO SEE THAT ONE OF HIS FELLOW GARDENERS SAM, HAD PACKED UP ALL HIS GEAR AND CLEARED HIS PLOT. JOE THOUGHT IT STRANGE, BUT FELT THAT WITH SAM GONE, HE HAD ONE LESS OPPONENT TO WORRY ABOUT. WELL, IT WAS STRAIGHT OFF TO THE SHOW AND JOE FELT THAT HIS LEEKS WERE AS GOOD AS ANY, BUT OF COURSE IT WAS DOWN TO THE JUDGES. COME THE ANNOUNCEMENT, AND JOE WAITED APPREHENSIVELY, FOR THE RESULT. THE CHAIRMAN SLOWLY ROSE AND TO JOE'S GREAT DELIGHT, WAS ANNOUNCED AS THE WINNER. SO HE TRIUMPHANTLY WALKED OUT OF THE SHOWROOM GOT ON HIS BIKE AND RODE OFF HOME TO GIVE ALICE THE GOOD NEWS.

HE WENT INDOORS HOLDING THE CUP ALOFT, TO BE MET WITH SILENCE. ALICE WASN'T THERE, BUT THERE WAS A NOTE ON THE TABLE SAYING " IVE HAD ENOUGH OF YOU, YOU SELFISH FOOL, AND HAVE DECIDED TO START A NEW LIFE WITH SAM, WHO HAS COMFORTED ME DURING YOUR VERY PROLONGED ABSENCES. HE MAY NOT BE AS GOOD A GARDENER AS YOU BUT HE HAS PAID ME MORE ATTENTION THAN YOU EVER DID. ENJOY YOUR LEEKS"

April meeting.

A nice sunny morning for our meeting at John & Sheila's. Rosemarie wrote the sequel to last months story about the gay misunderstanding. Ann, trip to Salisbury and a belch. My story about writing the story. Joan a walk in Spring. Sheila a boy dreaming of being pilot . Sue a creepy story. Joan Read walking the dogs and the story. Brian a haunting tale.
Two winners John and Pat, John's first

"For what remains" is next month's

THAT WAS A RELIEF.

WE USED TO SEE THIS MAN AROUND QUITE A LOT. HE SEEMED DIFFERENT TO US KIDS. THERE WAS NOTHING IN PARTICULAR THAT WE COULD SAY IN A NEGATIVE WAY, ABOUT HIM, BUT WITH TYPICAL CHILDISHNESS HE DIDN'T SEEM TO US, LIKE OUR PARENTS. THIS WAS AT THE END OF THE SECOND WORLD WAR, AND WITH ALL THE UPHEAVALS SURROUNDING FAMILIES, MUM AND DAD WOULD ALWAYS WARN US ABOUT ANYONE DIFFERENT, NOT IN A NEGATIVE WAY AT ALL, BUT JUST MAKING SURE THAT WE WERE CAREFUL WHEN CONFRONTED BY A NEW FACE THAT WE HAD LITTLE KNOWLEDGE OF. THIS MAN TURNED OUT TO BE OUR NEW MILKMAN AND OF COURSE WE DID BECOME MORE RELAXED TOWARDS HIM AFTER HE STARTED DELIVERING TO US. HE HAD BEEN COMING FOR A WHILE AND WE EVEN FOUND OUT WHERE HE LIVED. AFTER BEING SO VERY WARY OF HIM, WE DISCOVERED THAT HE WAS QUITE A PLEASANT PERSON AFTER ALL. HIS NAME WAS BILL BROWN, AND IT TRANSPIRED THAT HE HAD BEEN DISCHARGED FROM THE ARMY IN SOUTHAMPTON, AT THE END OF THE WAR, AND DECIDED TO STAY IN THE AREA. HE SAID THAT HE'D ORIGINALLY COME FROM COVENTRY, BUT DIDN'T WANT TO GO BACK THERE. IT DIDN'T REGISTER TOO MUCH WITH US KIDS, BUT THE RUMOURS STARTED TO CIRCULATE THAT BILL WAS A BIT OF A LADIES MAN, THE LADY NEXT DOOR APPEARED TO BE GETTING MORE THAN 2 PINTS OF MILK A DAY, OR SO IT WAS SUGGESTED, BUT AGAIN WE WEREN'T TOO INTERESTED UNTIL THE DAY WHEN MATTERS CAME TO A HEAD. WE WERE PLAYING OUT IN THE STREET, WHEN BILL APPEARED IN THE MILK FLOAT, AND ONCE HE'D PUT THE HAY BAG ONTO THE HORSE, WHICH HE ALWAYS SEEMED TO DO WHEN DELIVERING TO NEXT DOOR, HE DISAPPEARED INTO MRS JONES HOUSE. WE KIDS ALWAYS WONDERED WHY HE TOOK SO LONG TO SERVE MRS JONES. WE THOUGHT HE JUST WANTED TO GIVE HIS HORSE A LONG REST. WELL, UNBEKNOWN TO US ALL HELL WAS ABOUT TO BE LET LOOSE, WHEN MR. JONES SUDDENLY ARRIVED OUTSIDE THE HOUSE. AS HE WENT IN I THOUGHT THAT THAT WAS A RELIEF, BILL THE MILKMAN, WOULD BE ABLE TO GET ON HIS WAY, AND IN SOME RESPECTS HE WAS. ONLY HE MADE A RATHER UNDIGNIFIED EXIT WHEN HE WAS SUDDENLY PUNCHED OUT THROUGH THE FRONT DOOR BY A VERY IRATE MR JONES. WE KIDS DIDN'T UNDERSTAND SOME OF THE WORDS BEING EXCHANGED, BUT FOR SOME REASON MRS. JONES ALSO SEEMED QUITE UPSET, AND SHE SEEMED TO US TO BE RATHER UNTIDELY DRESSED. WELL THE HORSE WAS DRIVEN OFF AT QUITE A PACE BY BILL AND BELIEVE IT OR NOT HE PACKED UP BEING OUR MILKMAN ALMOST STRAIGHT AWAY, AND FOR SOME STRANGE REASON MRS JONES ALSO DISAPPEARED AS WELL. OF COURSE WE MISSED BILL FOR A WHILE, AND MORE TO THE POINT OUR DAD'S ROSES WERE NEVER THE SAME WITHOUT THE BUCKET OF MANURE FROM THE HORSES WAIT OUTSIDE OF OUR HOUSE, THE NEW MILKMAN WAS ALWAYS MUCH QUICKER THAN BILL.

THAT WAS A RELIEF

Does the weather bother you? Do you let it interfere with your plans for the day? As a child I don't remember it stopping us playing outside unless it was raining cats and dogs as they used to say.

The winter weather certainly divided the nation. If the roof didn't leak and your local roads drained well it barely affected you. Then there’s the unlucky minority, many of whom are still waiting for their homes to dry out. The wood from fallen trees was put to good use. Fences repaired, tiles replaced, telephone and electricity lines reconnected. Jobs for all! Then there are the potholes...why can't we have a super emergency team? Its a long story.

The unusually stormy weather produced the most wonderful cloud formations for anyone who cared to look up.

Also, thanks to the floods in Cornwall, Britain’s only tea plantation is having a record harvest. Who would have thought!

Has the so called 'man made' rise in temperature has caused all this? If so, what caused the end of the Ice Age, when the seas rose causing England to separate from Europe and then divide from the Isle of Wight? Did Man cause that? No? That’s a relief then, we can all carry on polluting.

March meeting

Just eight of us meeting at Jack & Joan's Sue started with a bucolic tale of the countryside. Ann analysed the words of the title I was happy. Rosemary's story is one of the winners. John's about pirates today and ransoms. Sheila with the special Bluebell vase. Joan Read looking back at the changing time. Joan E another country scene. My story about misery Joe.
Next month That was a relief.
Two chosen with 3 votes each Sue and Rosemary.

Rosemary's story









































































Sue's story

I WAS HAPPY
I was happy - I am happy, so happy. I nod in agreement with myself and feel completely content with the world. Well, why not? It’s a beautiful day, the sun is shining and at last the air feels balmy and very spring-like. I look around me and feel totally at peace in this moment.

I turn my gaze from the field towards the wood on whose edge I am standing. It looks so inviting, with a meandering path winding through it, just beckoning carefree walkers to wander along it in the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees. The sky, glimpsed far above, is a brilliant blue, as only spring skies can be after rain, and provides a Technicolor contrast to the bare branches reaching for it. Some branches are not so bare, though, I think, as I glimpse catkins gently swaying in the breeze and, dotted around, great splashes of reds, whites, lilacs, purples and pinks of every shade. Of course, the camellias and rhododendrons are bursting into bloom to greet the new season.

Alongside the enticing path are less showy carpets of flowers, but no less welcome for that. I can see crocus and late snowdrops, the latter so graceful as they nod in the light breeze. They are joined by patches of celandine and – is that the first of my favourite friend, the wood anemone – yes it is – just one so far and so delicate, but soon to be joined by many more.

As I gaze at the scene, I also spot more signs of life – a thrush bustling about in last autumn’s leaves, soon to be joined by a blackbird. There are robins going about their business too and there’s a tree creeper on the trunk of the tree nearest to me. At its base is another of my favourites, a hedgehog, who has survived the winter and come out to find food. My senses identify the different noises, the songs of the birds and the soft rustlings they make as they hunt for food on the ground or in the undergrowth.

As I lift my head and gaze into the distance, I can see the first of the more formal flower beds, with great clumps of hellebores in every shade from white to deepest purple, together with pulmonaria and drifts of stately daffodils, nodding their bonnets as if they are having a good gossip with each other.

Dropping down towards the river, the field I am in is green and lush after all the rain through the winter and now there are daisies littering it in patches of sparkling white, nodding their heads and promising they will soon be joined by lush yellow buttercups. These are almost overwhelmed by the wild daffodils spreading out in every direction and a great favourite with visitors, who can wander amongst them and absorb their delicate perfume.

It’s still early morning and there is no-one on the path yet, but I know the visitors will soon come, to wander the woodland paths and lakeside walks, drinking in all Exbury has to offer. In the meantime, I gaze once more across the field towards the river. There are one or two intrepid early sailors gently motoring downriver towards the estuary, before filling their sails and enjoying another day on the Solent.

Yes, I sigh contentedly, lapped by the freshening breeze, I am looking forward to seeing the pleasure our visitors will get and watching the children running freely over my field. I just hope one of them doesn’t decide to pick me or treads on me by mistake. I’d like to see another spring day dawn before I fade away ‘till next year!

24th February 2014

I never said that, was the basis of this month's story. Brian volunteered to start. His story was about the charge of the Light Brigade. Joan Read a scary story about the crime of murder. Sue was a thoughtful attempt to overcome the problem of misunderstanding amongst friends. I confessed my sins only two minor ones. Joan promising a toy to a child and its repercussions.  Rosemary and a promise to marry made over the phone. Ann a weird play and falling asleep.

I was happy - next months sentence.

Pat got the most votes

I NEVER SAID THAT

Ellen and George had been married many years and both loved their house and garden...well, Ellen loved the garden more than George. He did dig, mow and

grow the usual veges.

Each morning they strolled around the pretty garden, weather permitting of course, Ellen with the secateurs at the ready and George whistling away. She always had to point out anything new and wondered if he really didn't see or didn't want to.

This particular morning they were discussing what they would do when they could no longer garden. Put it back to lawn Ellen said. That was how they first saw it years ago. Hmmm said George thoughtfully.

The next day Ellen and a friend had arranged to take a coach trip to Wisley. It was a wonderful day, the weather played along and they were inspired by the fantastic ideas. Ellen didn't know which way to look, there were so many new varieties and colours. Tired but happy they boarded the coach for home dozing most of the way.

It was dusk when they eventually arrived, George was waiting patiently. Ellen took a lovely relaxing bath after dinner and went to bed to dream of her garden...so much to do, so many ideas whirling around in her head.

The next morning they put on their garden shoes as it had rained overnight. Ellen stared...where was her carefully cultivated border! George took her by the arm, look, he said, “I saved most of the plants by potting them up, then had the border turfed over”. It looked perfect to him.

“But...but...lost for words...why did you do that”? “ Why, you said put it back the way it was he exclaimed”. “ I never said that she cried. I meant when we were old”! Then George handed her a card. Happy 90^th it read.

27 Jan Meeting at Sue's

Low in numbers today just eight of us all with good stories perhaps because we had two months to dream one up. But only 7 stories.
Joan E's compared old times with new, missing final part of films to catch the bus. Joan R's sibling's interest in butterflies. Rosemary no room in the Inns and safe passage through estate. Ann Letter that brings U3A interest. Sue, James Bond remembers after coma.
My story a ramble of thoughts.

Next month "I never said that"

The winning story is John's

BECAME INTRIGUED.

WHENEVER I SAW THE WOMAN IN BLACK I BECAME INTRIGUED BY HER APPEARANCE, BECAUSE SHE LOOKED QUITE UNLIKE ANYONE ELSE IN MY NEIGHBOURHOOD. SHE WAS NOT OF OUR NATIONALITY AS SHE HAD SERENE FAINTLY ORIENTAL FEATURES. I FOUND MYSELF ALMOST ADOPTING A SLIGHTLY STALKING ATTITUDE, WHICH I SCOLDED MYSELF ABOUT. NEVERTHELESS SHE EXERTED A HOLD ON MY IMAGINATION WHICH I FELT WOULD ONLY BE ASSUAGED BY MY EXCHANGING PLEASANTRIES WITH HER. I SHOULD EXPLAIN THAT, I CAME ACROSS HER WHEN I CAUGHT THE BUS INTO WORK EACH MORNING, AND SHE ALWAYS SEEMED TO BE AT THE SAME STOP. THERE WERE THE USUAL COMMUTERS WHO VERY RARELY SPOKE AND SO WE ALL TENDED TO BE IN OUR OWN LITTLE WORLDS. WELL I DECIDED I WANTED TO TALK TO THE SUBJECT OF MY INTEREST, AND EVENTUALLY I FOUND MYSELF SAT NEXT TO HER AND WAS QUITE LOST FOR WORDS. WHAT WOULD I SAY TO HER, AND WOULD SHE BE INSULTED BY MY MAKING CONTACT WITH HER? WELL THE CHANCE WENT AND I STOOD UP TO GIVE MY SEAT TO A LITTLE OLD LADY. I DIDN'T REALLY SEE TOO MUCH OF HER AGAIN FOR SOME TIME, BUT I STILL WAS HOPING TO FIND OUT MORE ABOUT HER. FINALLY, I DID GET TO SIT NEXT TO HER, AND I MADE SOME COMMENT ABOUT THE WEATHER, BUT TO MY SURPRISE SHE REPLIED IN WHAT I ASSUMED WAS MANDARIN CHINESE, WHICH TOOK ME QUITE BY SURPRISE. SHE SEEMED A BIT SHY OF ANY ATTENTION FROM ME SO I LEFT IT AT THAT. I CONTINUED SEEING HER ON THE BUS BUT DIDN'T ATTEMPT TO SPEAK APART FROM A NODDED "GOOD MORNING", BUT I WAS STILL INTRIGUED WITH HER.

ABOUT 6 MONTHS LATER I CHANGED MY JOB, WHICH DIDN'T INVOLVE USING THE LOCAL BUS, SO I LOST ANY CHANCE OF MEETING OR SEEING THE CHINESE LADY AGAIN. LIFE WENT ON WELL, ALTHOUGH I DID HOPE THAT ONE DAY LIFE WOULD IMPROVE, AND I WOULD MEET AND MARRY A LOVELY LADY. I DECIDED TO GET MYSELF A TAKEAWAY ONE EVENING AND WENT FOR THE FIRST TIME TO ONE THAT I'D NOT USED BEFORE, AND WAS STUNNED TO SEE THE SUBJECT OF MY PREVIOUS FASCINATION SERVING BEHIND THE COUNTER. AND YES, SHE SPOKE PERFECT ENGLISH. I MENTIONED THAT I USED TO SEE HER ON THE BUS, AND SHE DID AGREE THAT SHE REMEMBERED ME. I SAID THAT I ASSUMED THAT SHE COULD NOT SPEAK ENGLISH, BUT SHE SAID THAT SHE WAS SHY AND NERVOUS WHEN I SPOKE TO HER, WHICH WAS WHY SHE SPOKE IN HER NATIVE TONGUE. I GOT THE IMPRESSION THAT SHE WASN'T AVERSE TO OUR SPEAKING, SHE HELPED IN HER PARENTS BUSINESS AFTER WORKING IN A CITY BANK, AND BEFORE LONG I WAS HELPING HER AS WELL,

I'VE GOT TO TELL YOU, THAT I ATE MORE CHINESE TAKEAWAYS THAN WAS GOOD FOR ME OVER THE FOLLOWING MONTHS, BUT THE HAPPY OUTCOME IS THAT WE ARE ENGAGED TO MARRY AND IM BUSY LEARNING MANDARIN AND WRITING ORDERS OUT IN THAT LANGUAGE AS WELL.