25 Feb 20013

Only nine of us today Ann continued her story of the down and out being pursued by an older woman. Sally a very confused lady.  Pat day dreamed and forgot her dentist appointment. Isaac and his ghost with an interest in shoes. Rosemary on the downside of getting better sight. I told about a fortune teller seeing a demon. Joan coming of Spring. Sue told of her and her sister's painting a shed. John story read by Brian all about the war and the air-force.
Next month's "Desperate search".

Ann won most votes.

Uncomfortable Clarity

As she hurried up the road, Marian smiled to herself. What would people think seeing an elderly lady running after a young man and calling out for him to "Stop, please"? She could see him in the distance now limping along. He must have heard her, as he turned and recognising who it was, stopped and waited. She caught up with him and suddenly felt a little foolish. "I didn't thank you properly in the shop for returning my purse. The shopkeeper said you live at the hostel up the road, so you must have left the bus before your stop. Let me give you something for your honesty." She opened her purse to take out a note, but he put his hand over hers and said he didn't need rewarding. He was only doing what any self-respecting person would do. She realised with uncomfortable clarity that she had been guilty of a crime we all commit from time to time. She had prejudged him because of his appearance and the thought disturbed her. Marian suddenly found herself asking him if she could meet him in town sometime and buy him a coffee. He looked a little taken aback, but said he would like that and introduced himself as Daniel. They arranged a day, time and place, said goodnight, and went their separate ways.

When she closed the front door behind her, Marian suddenly wondered what on earth had come over her. She had propositioned a young stranger and he had accepted. She must be mad, but she was curious to find out more about him. She wondered what her friends would think of her when she told them what she had done. It was probably a good job she wouldn't be seeing them for another month. They would probably tell her to forget the whole thing. She had no intention of doing that though and on the day in question, made her way into town on the earlier bus to make sure she was there on time. She had suggested the restaurant in one of the large stores, thinking it would be a safer place than some back street cafe and also giving her a place to browse while waiting. It wasn't long before she saw him coming through the door. He saw her and smiling made his way over to her. "I wondered if you'd come", said Marian.
"I had no intention of missing out on an offer from a lady", he cheekily replied. They made their way to the restaurant and while he went to select a table, Marian got them some coffee and cakes. Once settled down in a quiet corner, she asked him to tell her about himself.

"Well you know my name is Daniel and I live at the hostel", he replied.
"What else do you want to know?"
"How did you come to end up there", asked Marian.
"It's rather a long story" was the reply.
"Well I'm in no hurry. Are you?" she said. So he began to tell her his tale. His mother had died when he was five and after a few years his father had remarried. Unfortunately his stepmother resented his bond with his father and in true wicked stepmother style, hatched a plot to get him out of her hair and the family home so she could have her new husband to herself. He was sent off to boarding school at the tender age of nine. At first he hated it, but after a while realising this was his lot for the next few years, he decided to make the most of the opportunities he had. He did well academically and got good grades, however when he left, the job situation was beginning to take a down turn and the only job he could get was at McDonalds. He was working his way up the ladder and although he hoped one day to better himself, he was prepared to learn as much as he could there. "So what happened to your leg then?"
"Well that's another story. I was knocked down one evening on my way home from work by a hit and run merchant. I had very serious leg injuries and was in hospital in traction for months. I lost my job because of it and consequently my flat, as I couldn't pay the rent. Friends helped out for a while, but I eventually ended up at the hostel and now I can't get another job. I think it's partly because of where I live and partly because of the way I am. I'm sure I will get something one day and then I can prove I'm a good worker". They spent the remaining time chatting about things in general and Marian found him to be a very well informed, intelligent young man for just twenty-two. She enjoyed his company and asked him if he would consider having coffee with her again. He said he would love that as he had enjoyed talking to her. They arranged to meet the following week and the week after. By this time Marian was already bursting to tell her friends about her new drinking partner.

At their next meal she waited for everyone else to tell their news and then came out with hers. As she had expected they told her she had taken a chance doing what she had done, but when she came out with her proposal, they were dumbstruck. She told them she had thought long and hard and was going to offer Daniel her spare bedroom. He would have a proper address and hopefully, a better chance of getting a job. She liked him and felt comfortable with him.
"Some things you just feel are right and this is one of them. My mind is made up".

28th Jan

Met at John & Sheila's ten of us on a relatively milder day accompanied by rain. Wide range of stories Brian kicked it off with a story of ghosts in a pub. Sheila children playing and a puppy named Dennis. Joan retold our day in Cadnam when it snowed. I told of my fears of heights. John a holiday in Argentine at the time when Malvinas was in the news. Pat wondered does it really matter. Rosemary a story 2000 years old.Sally a doggy story.
Sue and Ann had equal votes.
Next month Uncomfortable clarity.

Ann's story first
Uneasy Feeling

 Marian was looking forward to her evening with her friends. They had met while working at an insurance office in town many years ago and had all become great pals. Three of them were widowed like herself, one had never married and one was much younger. It had been her first job and Marian had taken her under her wing and helped her with any problems she encountered. The six of them met up once a month for a meal in town usually at a cosy little restaurant in a side street off the main shopping area. Occasionally they would treat themselves to visit to the theatre or to the cinema to see a much-acclaimed film. They usually met early in the evening, as none of them were keen to be out too late.

This evening they were going to their usual place. The food was nothing exotic or fancy, but was well cooked, with good portions and at a very reasonable price, something they were very conscious about now most were retired. Being regular customers they were always greeted like long lost friends, well looked after and given a table in a corner. As the weather had been quite nice, Marian decided to go into town a little early and do a bit of window-shopping before meeting the others. While waiting for the bus she started thinking how convenient it was to have her bus pass now. All this talk about doing away with the free bus passes for pensioners was quite upsetting. After all they had earned them having worked and paid taxes all their lives. Maybe when these jumped up young things that are suggesting these moves get to retirement age, they will appreciate that they do enable one to keep some sort of social life and independence. Arriving in town, she went to the main shopping mall and into one of the large stores. She enjoyed browsing and eventually ended up at the clearance and sale corner. These were the most enjoyable shelves and racks, as you never knew what you might find hidden away there. On this occasion she discovered a lovely, soft, chunky jumper in her size and favourite colour. She examined it carefully and it seemed to be in good condition, but best of all it was reduced to less than half price. She hesitated and after a little deliberation decided to treat herself. Looking along the rack further, she unearthed a pair of smart trousers. These would go well with the jumper and as they were also her size and had already been reduced twice, were a bargain not to be missed. Feeling very pleased with her buys, she wandered around the shops making her way slowly to her destination. The friends met up in ones and twos and settled down to a good natter and meal. They exchanged their news over the past month and had a good laugh. It was a good evening and as they made their way back to the town centre Marian felt a warm feeling from the friendship they all had. They said their goodbyes and left as they had arrived, in ones and twos. Marian was the only one going in her direction, so left to catch her bus alone. It soon arrived and she settled down mulling over the evenings happenings.

When she arrived at her stop, she gathered up her bags and made her way off the bus. As she started walking along the road, she heard a voice calling out "Stop, please". She glanced round and saw a man limping along the path towards her, waving. Suddenly she had an uneasy feeling and hurried along. Crossing the road towards the corner store, she decided to go in and see what he did. She picked up an evening paper and some milk and went to the counter to pay. As she was going to get her purse out of her bag, he came into the shop. "I think this belongs to you," he said as he held her purse out. "You must have dropped it as you got off the bus. I did call you, but you couldn't have heard me". Marian looked at him. His clothes were old, but clean and well looked after and he spoke in a soft, but well educated manner. Feeling decidedly chastened, she thanked him and took the offered purse Paying for her purchases, she noticed that everything was intact and felt even guiltier. Asking the shopkeeper if he knew who the young man was, she learned he was from the hostel for the homeless a mile or so along the road. With the sudden realisation that he must have got off the bus before his stop to catch her and return the purse she hastily left the shop and started hurrying after him. She wasn't as nimble as she used to be, but with luck she would catch him up. "Stop, please", she called as she made her way up the road. UNEASY FEELING Louis was my salvation on that fateful day when my village was destroyed by the men in blue. He brought Two Feathers and me up to his cabin to recover from our ordeal, then made the journey down to the trading post in the valley below, to seek word of my people. He returned the following day with the terrible news that no-one else had survived. He offered to take me to the next valley in search of another of my people’s villages. I had an uneasy feeling about this, as I knew these people would make me a slave until a brave needed a wife to keep his lodge. I did not wish to expose Two Feathers to such an uncertain future. Happily, I was saved from telling Louis this the next morning. When I rose from my place by the hearth, where I had spent the night snuggled into a warm blanket with Two Feathers, I peered out of the window and discovered a white world spread before me. It had begun to snow heavily and we were marooned in our isolated cabin. The door opened suddenly on a blast of icy air and swirling snow, and Louis came in swiftly, closing the door behind him with difficulty. “Well, we won’t be taking you to the next valley for a while yet, I’m afraid”, he said and, as the days passed, we fell into a routine, where I cooked and cleaned while he hunted and chopped firewood to keep us warm. One evening he returned to the cabin with a small fir tree which he had planted in one of the old water buckets. He explained that in his country this was a time of celebration called Christmas and we must decorate the little fir tree and have a special festive meal the next day. He went to the wooden chest in the corner, rummaged around in it, and finally raised a sparkly thing aloft. “Ha, I knew I had kept it – a reminder of my old life!” It was a silver shape, like the stars in the clear sky above, and he placed this on the top of the tree. That evening, as we sat before the fire with Two Feathers drowsing in my arms, he told me the story of the Christ Child and the significance of the Star of Bethlehem. I laid Two Feathers in the new bed Louis had made for him and returned to the fire, heaving a sigh of contentment. Louis, hearing this, asked me if I was happy here with him and I hung my head shyly as I tried to put into words the feelings I had for this man, who had taken me and my child into his home and fed and cared for us ever since. I eventually broke the silence which hung between us and said simply, “My world is here. You and Two Feathers, and this place, are all I desire.” Louis sat with his head bowed for so long I began to feel I had spoken too openly of my feelings, as squaws do not speak so. When Louis eventually raised his head, I saw with amazement there were tears in his eyes, one of which rolled slowly down his cheek and disappeared into his dark beard. He fell to his knees before me, took my hands between his calloused palms, and said brokenly, “Once the Spring comes, I could take you to your people if you like, but my dearest wish is that you stay here with me and we become a real family. We could go down to the settlement and be married properly when the preacher visits next year.” My dawning smile was all the answer he needed. That Christmas was such a time of celebration. Louis had killed a deer and we had a real feast. He also showed me how his mother decorated the tree with oddments of fabric and made cookies to hang on it. Two Feathers thought this was great fun and tried to crawl over and snatch them off the tree, while we laughingly gathered him up and gave him his very own cookie to chew on. Now it is Spring and we are setting off on the journey down the mountain to the settlement to be married. I am very proud that I can now speak enough of Louis’ language to make myself understood. I had been fearful of how his people would think of me, an Indian squaw with a child, but Louis has calmed my fears. We arrive at the settlement, a huddled collection of cabins much like our own. One of the larger ones is the general store and Two Feathers and I stare in amazement at all the things on display. Sacks of grain and flour line the walls, tools and utensils of all kinds hang from the ceiling, clothing all ready for men and women to wear is hung in one corner and piles of furs are in another, where they have been placed in exchange for goods. Louis tosses his furs on this heap once he and the storekeeper have exchanged greetings, I have been introduced and welcomed, and they have decided how much Louis can have in exchange. Two Feathers has escaped and is staggering towards the counter, stretching out his chubby arms to a jar in which he espies his favourite food – cookies. Louis laughs, lifts him easily and takes one of the cookies out of the jar, placing it in his eager grasp. We all laugh together and I say goodbye at last to that uneasy feeling as I follow Louis’ pointing finger towards another large building, which he explains is the church.

26th Nov 2012

Everybody there today and all stories were exceptionally good as I stayed attentive throughout the morning without drifting off. Ann started with a widow who seemed to get a new life when she lost her husband - should you be worried Bert? Sue recounted a story that could perhaps come from a previous life when a young squaw finds a protector for herself and her baby. Brian had s Black Monk running errands to set up a meeting for some mysterious goings on at Runnymede - I wonder what that was? Pat was still thinking of the turmoil in having a new carpet with all the other purchases to go with it. Hope no one spills the tea on our next meeting there. Joan Read got lost in a dictionary and the different meanings to words. Rosemary got tickled by a feather. My effort involved a horse and memories. Joan Devon wanderings as a child. John had us in tears with a death stalking a young woman. Sheila remembered riding a bike as a child. Sally scared us all with such a horrible description of an abused young girl by a smelly, stained teeth rapist who held her captive but she went to heaven in the end with a young brave. Rosemary and Sue won and as Rosemary hasn't mastered a computer and the typewriter is defunct here is the two page image of the story. Rosemary says sorry it is not in her best handwriting but she hadn't expected to win.

Next meeting 28th January "uneasy feeling"

Click image to make bigger

 

Gently

I lay Two Feathers gently on the springy turf, tickle his tummy and smile at him as I tuck the bright blanket more closely around his warm, soft body. He wriggles as he opens his mouth wide and gives me that heart-stopping toothless smile, then blows bubbles through his pursed lips as he kicks his legs in their confining wrappings and waves his podgy fists in the cool mountain air. He’s five months old now and thankfully healthy, with no sign of the ailments often suffered by young children in our village. I must make sure he gets plenty of nourishment as he grows. My milk is still plentiful and I must gather nuts, berries and roots to keep me healthy. This is difficult for me as my husband, Little Eagle, was killed before Two Feathers was born and I have to rely on handouts from other members of the tribe until a new brave, probably an older man without a squaw, who has children needing a mother’s care, will step forward and make me his woman. One or two are already eyeing me speculatively, but I don’t want them; I want to give all my time to my own baby until he is at least walking and able to look after himself a little.

I hum as I start gathering the ripe berries from the surrounding bushes. The trees are already clad in their fiery Autumn colours but the air is still warm in the sun, although it turns chill once it slides behind the mountains. I must hurry so I can return to the lodge before it gets too cold for Two Feathers. I continue to hum as I work, perfectly content in this peaceful setting.

I set the full basket of berries down and take up another to start gathering nuts. These are also a good source of food and will sustain us during the Winter months to come. As I work I glance up and there in front of me, screened by the bushes, is a deer, watching me but seemingly without fear. Her soft brown eyes regard me steadily for some minutes before she lowers her head and commences feeding, seeming to enjoy the companionship of our joint endeavours, accompanied by birdsong from the trees above.

I have almost filled my basket when my companion jerks her head suddenly, looks fearfully around, then turns and plunges into the denser forest, but not before looking into my eyes with an urgent message, it seems to me. I immediately glance all around, scrabbling at the same time to collect my baskets and lift Two Feathers into my arms. As I turn to flee I hear the dreaded sound of pounding hooves and the ear-shattering noise of the hated bugle of the men in blue.

I dart along the narrow trail leading to the village, then hesitate as another thought screams in my head – “Not that way. They must be at the village already. I can hear the awful noise of battle and screaming of the women and children.” Where can I run? I instinctively turn and plunge into the forest after the deer. Yes, there is the narrow track she must have followed. I run on, my breath coming in uneven gasps. I drop the baskets and concentrate on keeping my baby close, hoping he will not cry out, but he seems to think this is a new sort of game and crows in his cocoon of blankets as I race on.

The heart-wrenching sounds from the village begin to fade as I draw further away, but I am now climbing more steeply and my breath is tearing at my chest as I try to draw more air in. I risk a glance behind me, but no-one is following. It is as I turn to face uphill again that the huge figure carrying a rifle steps onto the trail in front of me and an arm shoots out to grab me. I let out a despairing cry, half scream, half moan, and know my fate is sealed.

It is now many moons later, I muse, as I sit on the stoop at the front of the cabin, gazing contentedly out upon the vista spread before me. We are high up in the mountains and it has been a harsh Winter, but Spring has arrived at last and the trees below me are wearing their new green leaves like featherlight cloaks which sway gently in the warm breeze. Two Feathers is crawling towards me and struggles to stand upright at my knee, burbling his nonsense as he does so. His smile now shows several even white teeth but is still a delight.

He turns as he hears the soft footfalls behind him, looks up at the tall man stooping to swing him aloft and gurgles happily, “Papa”.

22 Oct 2012

Only eight of us today I started with a story of the lost opportunity to change history. Joan told of Margaret looking back on her life. Sally's true story of very bad DIY. John A bank employee regretting a well planned robbery gone wrong. Sheila post war playing in dens. Rosemary dreaming of falling through the sky. Sue went for a ride on a broomstick.

Next month at Sue's "gently" Ann got most votes with this ghostly tale.


Quite an Idea Becky and I had been friends since childhood. We had grown up as next door neighbours and had always done everything together - going to the same school, joining the same youth club, leaving to start work at the same time and both going into office work, although to different firms. I was an only child and loved the fact I had a readymade friend nearby, but Becky had a brother just a couple of years older. We all played quite happily together when we were younger, but as we grew up Chris went off to join his own mates. We always considered ourselves as one big family though and always joined together for any family celebrations or outings. Chris went off to university and met Aimee. He started bringing her home for the odd weekend and we all got along famously. When they both graduated they got jobs teaching near her home in Somerset. No one was very surprised when they announced they had got a flat together and were engaged to be married. She asked Becky to be bridesmaid and we all went to the wedding in the pretty village church at Winford near her parent's home. Her family made us feel very welcome and it was like having another extended family. Over the next couple of years Becky and I went to visit Chris and Aimee several times at their flat in Bristol and it was on one of these occasions that they told us they were expecting. A few weeks before the baby was born they moved into a small house nearer her family. Jessica was born in July and the proud parents brought her down to see her relatives and courtesy aunts and uncle. I was thrilled to bits when they asked if I would be godmother along with Becky when she was christened. The christening was in October and Becky and I arranged to go up for the weekend. Her parents were going up for the week before to give a hand with the preparation for the christening - at least that was their excuse, but everyone knew it would be baby-worshipping week. As we had never been to the new house before we thought it would be quite an idea to make a route map as it was a bit off the beaten track.

Things were going very well until we came to the diversion sign. This would be fine if we could work out where it dropped us back onto the original route. The road was certainly very narrow and winding, although the scenery was very nice. We appeared to be approaching a small village called Moreton. There was a very picturesque water mill and I managed to get a shot of it on my phone as we went by. There was quite a lot of activity further along with everyone seeming to be heading towards a large building. It must be celebration of sorts, as everybody appeared to be in fancy dress. It was almost like being on a film set in the 1940's or 50's. They were all going into the gate of Chew Park house and farm and there was obviously a celebration as we could see tables laid out. Everyone seemed to be carrying baskets of fruit and vegetables. I asked Becky if she could stop while I took a few photos.

A young man smiled and waved very obligingly. We waved back then went on our way. It wasn't long before the diversion ended and we realised we weren't that far from our destination. Later that evening when Jessica was tucked up in bed and we were having a meal with both sets of parents, we got talking about our journey up. We explained that we had been diverted and were concerned we would get lost. When asked where the diversion was we said we had come through a pretty village called Moreton and we'd passed a lovely old water mill. Everyone was all dressed out in 1940's and 50's clothes and appeared to be going to a party at a farm called Chew Park house. There was silence before Aimee's mother said that wasn't possible. Moreton had been flooded in the early 1950's and was at the bottom of the Chew Valley Lake. I said I had taken some photos on my phone and took it out to show her. Again there was stunned silence and a sharp intake of breath as she looked at them before handing the phone to her mother. "This is Moreton and the water mill is Stratford Mill. The celebration at Chew Park is the Harvest Home supper. It was held every year when the harvest had been brought in and that is your Dad waving." "It's not possible," repeated Aimee's mum. Looking at Becky and me, Aimee's grandma said, "You must have slipped into a time warp. That's the only explanation. Grandad would have been so proud to have been here for his first great grand daughter's christening, that he did the next best thing and sent her a phone message."

24 September

Only eight of us at Brian & Pat's on a wet morning. Notwithstanding it was an enjoyable few hours. Pat having won last month started her story first all about the Para-Olympics. Not having watched I'm amazed that there was a blind football team who played with a ball fitted with a bell. Ann's was a sad tale about a family tragedy involving a car crash. Sheila two girls friendship. Joan going to New Zealand and meeting someone they knew. Joan Read talking voices in the head and angelic beings. John an ex unable to let go and sending malicious phone calls. Brian a war story and Lord Haw Haw. My story won this month. Not really a story just a comment on today's changing times.

That Voice Again

 Have you noticed how much speech has changed over our life time? Listen to any sound recording made during the last war and hear the difference from today's offerings. It used to be clipped and energetic spoken with a vigour that is lacking today. You won't hear that voice again. Now you hear regional accents with almost no voice training at all. To get a job in the industry like TV or radio a regional accent is essential. The weather forecasters are some of the worst offenders where even their use of the English language is maltreated. Clouds described as lumps is one of their many linguistic crimes. Does it matter that we don't try to be the best we can be in all things? I notice that in China the government in particular dress in Western suits and ties they have come a long way from the time of Mao when everybody wore a loose fitting standard garment that looked like the normal wear of a peasant.

I some times think about spending money on clothes but then when I get into town making my way to the shops I look around and see what everybody else is wearing, holed dirty jeans and shoddy looking coats and that was just the women. So I put my wallet back until I get tempted again to spend money. Although I'd rather spend it on toys such as Kindles and tablets – not the pill variety.

 Mind you I did see an old TV recording of a BBC announcer Peter Haigh – do you remember him with his well modulated voice – he was interviewing an American actress and an up coming starlet and he was fawning over both of them in such a treacle voice I felt sick. It was embarrassing. He of course was dropped in the sixties when the new fashion of representing the dumb down masses became the norm. This reminds me of McDonald Hobley I wonder what happened to him? Just had to look him up he was still working in the industry in 1987 when at the age of 70 he died. Another remarkable thing is in 1956 he was tempted to leave the BBC for ITV by a salary 5 times greater that the BBC was paying him – a £100. So that means he was getting £20 a week up to then. How can our intelligent betters who run the country allow the £ to be devalued in such a way. To just print paper money disregarding its value or intrinsic worth is a crime against ordinary people and a guaranteed way to make money for those who have control of the banks.

 How the world has changed I see more and more people are pursuing complaints in the courts against bad Medical practise mostly against GPs. Doctors used to be treated with fawning respect perhaps because they expected it and spoke curtly to patients but no longer although they don't call us mates - well not at the moment. One reason it is changing is due to the help of the Internet we know almost as much as them.

Perhaps despite it all, we do have that, the internet to console us and we can take pleasure in listening to old recordings of how things used to be.

Next month "Quite an idea"

27th August 2012

Brian started off with a widower coming to terms with new fangled things like electric lighting. Ann gave a life time information about a family with dark secrets. Rosemary continued last month's story about the fear of flying. Sally wrote of a spooky passing away in the mountains. Sheila recounted one of the holidays in France. John an adventure story about a naval hero. I told of an intelligent school boy who ended up homeless. Joan Read the man who accepted being best man. Sue all about walking the dogs. Joan E Sam wanting to play with Dan


Pat won again - it's how you tell them Pat.

Next month "That voice again"

He Understood

Its rather hot today, 85+, and the garden has had a lot to put up with. Its the middle of August and the tomatoes are still green, even the plant we left in the greenhouse in a grow bag isn’t happy. Also, the red peppers didn’t bother to set, the runner beans are hopeless...we ’harvested’ three. What a joke. The six tomato plants at the end of the garden have developed potato blight would you believe! Of course they can’t go in the compost so another trip to the tip.

Where are the butterflies? We used to have Peacocks with their wings flat out on the roof of the shed. I creep down the garden to the three Buddleia trees in the late sun and what do I see? Two white cabbage butterflies and a few bees. What's going on.

We managed to pick over four pounds (in old money) of blueberries in three pots. We had covered them in fleece to stop the birds having a feast. They would eat them all in one day. As they have outgrown their pots we intend to plant them in the disastrous tomato bed for next year.

The begonias finally decided to bloom and the hydrangeas are putting on a show. Some of the roses are blooming for the second flush. Its water, water, water.

We are supposed to have one of those new meters, but for some reason part of our road has been done but not ours, so we can water to our hearts delight.

I keep watching for hummingbird moths. No luck. I have spotted them in previous years during a hot spell. Testwood Lakes meadow is a good place to see them, before they cut it down.

Earlier this year, we lost two boxes of blue tits. Apparently, the caterpillars were washed away with the heavy rain so they starved to death. How cruel. Nature doesn’t have a heart.

On the other hand, we have a flock of 40+ house sparrows, a nuthatch, great spotted woodpeckers...one even brought her twins to visit. There's various tits, blackbirds and a robin with two offspring.

We have finally out foxed the squirrels by purchasing a new feeder with bars! They are so entertaining, hanging by their toes and steeling peanuts, lifting lids and chewing at the wire. Now they can only get at the wild mixed seed.

The apple tree isn’t happy either, we will have to take some remedial action next year. We had three peaches and could only eat one. The ‘giant’ sunflowers are only three feet tall. Never mind, the seeds will be welcome.

I will fill up the water bowls now that it has cooled down. Spotted a teeny frog with his googly eye on me , he understood what I was doing, and patiently waited.

This weather seems to attract strange insects. I have been bitten by who knows what. The first bite had me on anti biotics and the second on anti histamines!

Roll on winter.

23 July 2012

A really nice day with the morning spent in Joan's garden sheltered from the sun under several parasols.
I read Sue's story first a retelling of a poor family in the mid west USA. John kicked off next with a faulty kidney saving tourists' lives. Sheila retold how her family were entertained at Eling during the torch ceremony. Rosemary's story was about a young girl about to marry who fell out of her bed. Joan's heroine rebelled against her family taking her for granted. Joan E told how missing a bus stop is scary. I related how going for a walk led to meeting many people. Brian - missing deeds for some land and a murder.
Pat got most votes and her story follows.

GET OFF


That “Go Compare” ad on TV drives me up the wall. I don't know about you, but I can't reach the remote control fast enough! Usually my husband nods off with his hand on it.

The good news is that yesterday, a masked assassin blew him up with a big bazooka! Ha Ha. I'm not the only one then.
The assassin? None other than former tennis star Sue Barker. I do hope she was well compensated. Apparently the ad people do listen. That makes a change. There must be thousands of people like me, who enjoyed the action, and, whats more important actually paid attention to the insurance comparison company message. Maybe they are on to something, in a kind of back handed advertising campaign.

I always believed it was easier to get a message across with humour.

Following that thought, they could string up the bankers in a High Noon type of way, when they go on about their safe banks.

Have you watched our Parliament in action? First off, the House is half empty. They can't all be at very important meetings can they? The only time it seems to be full is Prime Minister's question time or when there is an important vote.

Now its the Olympics. Apart from the security fiasco, the ticket fiasco and the strikes, it will be alright on the night, as they say.

Hooray for Bradley Wiggins. Now, get off your bike and save the Olympics!

Next month 27th August at John's "He understood"