Joan and Jacks today with several notable absences Pat & Brian, Sally and Sue.
Sue sent us her story, which I read out first, detailed her introduction to serious walking with its scary finish wading through the sea. Ann told of the mysterious green ink correspondence. John recounted the story of the brave Major. Joan let her imagination take us to the USA and a teenagers life with her friend George the horse.
Sheila told of her friendship that faltered when she found her playmate had a nasty side to her. Rosemary told of a time when memories were unbending in dislike of the Germans. Joan related how her childhood farm came on the market with pictures on the Internet. I told of what might be Prince Phillip's view of life.
Rosemary won the popular vote.
Next month "They are on the brink" chez nous
A FRIEND OF MINE
I want to tell you about a friend of mine. We first met when she was 12 and I was 14, and we attended school together for a short while. At first she was very different to any friend I'd had before, and it took some time for us to begin to know and understand one another. But once we did, our friendship was sealed -FOR LIFE! Friendship is a wonderful thing, especially when it spans the generations as ours has done!
I can't begin to tell you how many hours we spent talking and giggling together - and over the most RIDICULOUS things! It seemed that we were on the same wavelength in so many many ways, and we grew closer than I'd ever been with other friends that I'd grown up with and known for years before she came into my life.
I was virtually an only child because my sister is much older than me and was married once she was demobbed after the War. My new friend actually WAS an only child - but unlike me she didn't have a father. He had been posted "missing, presumed dead" during the War. Yet both she and her Mother had never given up hope that one day, ONE DAY, he would turn up. She spoke a lot about him and obviously still vaguely remembered him, and was absolutely CONVINCED that he WAS alive somewhere or other. Maybe, she said, he had lost his memory, or perhaps he had been badly wounded and was even yet still recovering somewhere. She talked like this when she was at our house and my Mum would always have to wipe away a tear, and my Dad who was the kindest and gentlest man anyway, went out of his way to make her welcome in our home.
Whenever we went out on trips in my Dad's 1930s Ford 8 (top speed 28 m.p.h.!) she would come with us. So there are old photos of us at Whipsnade Zoo, outside Windsor Castle, and enjoying many many picnics in the beautiful Oxfordshire and Cotswold countryside. Soon my friend began to call my Dad her SECOND DADDY, and yes, we WERE just like sisters together, sharing our lives as much as possible during the fairly brief time of our friendship together - for sadly the day came when she left Oxford, left school, and left me behind too. Yet the miles between us didn't in any way break our friendship, as letters flew back and forth. Neither of our families had a telephone, and of course there were no mobile phones in those days!
As I said before, a friendship which spans the generations is something very special indeed, and that's exactly what happened to my friend and I. Years later she, her husband, and 2 young sons came to stay with us in Oxford, and it was as though the years apart were gone in a trice. Her boys made a great fuss of our baby daughter. But her eldest son wasn't so happy a few years later when we visited them with our 2 children, and my daughter followed this now 11 year old lad everywhere with adoring eyes! He even went out of the house early each morning in an attempt to escape from her!
Over the years there have been many other get-togethers of our two families - the children now adults of course, and last time we visited them it was to be introduced to my friend's 3 lovely grandchildren!
During their last visit to us they were absolutely AMAZED when we took them to Exbury Gardens, and my friend's husband took countless photos to prove to THEIR friends and neighbours that rhododendrons and azaleas really DO grow that huge and glorious in the South of England! Sadly, because of her husband's failing health my friend said it would probably be the last time they'd make the journey to visit us, so now its down to phone-calls, Christmas cards and the occasional letter enclosing the latest photos of our families.
SO JUST WHY IS THIS FRIEND OF MINE AND OUR LONG FRIENDSHIP SO INCREDIBLY SPECIAL? Well, Wilma is GERMAN and, like one of two other German children in previous years, she came to stay with us for 3 months in 1954 through an organization called "The International Help for Children". Each year 2 coachloads of children from all over Germany were brought to Oxford to become part of English families for 3 months. They were all children who had suffered during the War - perhaps been injured, made homeless, or orphaned etc.
Each year before they came our neighbours would ask my parents "You're SURELY not going to have a GERMAN CHILD again this year, "are you?" "They're the enemy" and my Mum would reply "Yes, because if there's any hope of lasting peace between our two countries, then I believe the CHILDREN becoming friends must help. After all, there must have been thousands of ordinary Germans who didn't want this War any more than WE did." Despite my Mum's words, every year those neighbours sent our family to Coventry, refusing to speak to us or have anything else to do with us for weeks both before and after the children came, as well as during their stay.
Contrary to her hopes and conviction, Wilma1s father NEVER returned, and although MY Dad died just 3 years after her time with us, she STILL speaks of him as her SECOND DADDY, or her ENGLISH DADDY - and she even told her husband Willi that she fell in love and married HIM simply because he reminded her of her SECOND DADDY! So THIS is Wilma, A VERY SPECIAL FRIEND OF MINE!
Continuation of the serial
Gradually, as the seconds ticked slowly by on the illuminated dial of the clock beside her bed, she began to relax. Her heartbeat slowed and she sank back on the pillows, her hands releasing their frantic grip on the sheet. She started to recognise the reassuringly familiar night noises; the rustling of the ivy outside the window in the breeze, the hoot of the resident owl in the old oak opposite her window and the usual creaking of the floor boards in the old house. Eventually her eyelids fluttered downwards as they became heavier and she started to drift off to sleep once more. Then she was wide awake again as she recognised the noise which had so abruptly awoken her before. There it was again. What was it? An alien sound intruding into the familiar, a sound which shouldn't be here in this time and place –and it came from the hall outside her bedroom door.
She lay there biting her lip a habit she had when she was nervous or afraid she reached for her phone and then realised it was down stairs. She started to remember the stories her grandmother used to tell her about the house, which was about 300 years old for the past 200 years, generations of her family had lived here. In that time there had many births and deaths, which had all been recorded in the family diary. However the first 100 years were a mystery there was a legend that a great evil act had taken place but nobody knew exactly what but her grandmother was convinced the house was haunted. She always thought that this was her grandmother’s imagination after all there was no such thing as ghosts. There was the sound again she knew she had to find the courage to open the bedroom door she got out of bed and reached for her glasses put on her slippers and dressing gown something she was always told to do by her mother and started towards the door when she stopped, had the door handle moved she could hardly breath she watched, waiting for it to move again, eventually she told herself of course it did not move she took hold of the handle opened the door and stepped out onto the landing.
Before she could put the light on, she felt something brush past her legs. She screamed and froze ridged. Then the hall light went on and her son was coming towards her obviously worried and still half asleep. With the light on she could see that the thing that had brushed her legs was a bird - a big black bird that was still flapping its wings in fright, trying to find a way out. Her son took off his pyjama top and threw it over the bird. Then he opened a window and released it, watching the bird as it flew away, not appearing to be hurt at all. They went downstairs, checking that all the windows were shut. They got to the kitchen and made a welcome cup of tea and talked about what had happened. Once back in bed she made a mental note to find out how the bird had got into the house.
Monday, 31 August 2009
Monday, 27 July 2009
July Meeting
We met at John's today just nine of us. Joan, last month's winner continued the serial about the creepy old house that Sue started. A varied offering of stories which made choosing the winner difficult and the votes were well spread out. Sue's story was read out by Pat which recounted the follow up of a much earlier story of the maiden in distress after losing the oars to her hired boat. The handsome but lowly fisherman was really a high flier. Brian's story was of a villein who bit part of an ear off. Joan Read's Jimmy Bond sorted out the malingerers. Rosemary told of the changed days before the Health and Safety made scrumping too dangerous.Joan wrote about a missing boy who was found 10 years later. I told of my army days. John about the carnival and Ann about the depressing possible future we face.
Sheila's had a surprising ending where victims of an accident weren't. This was voted best story. Below the winning story is the serial the winner adds each month.
Sheila's Compensation to pay
The First Response came quickly and calmly felt for a pulse, did blood pressure, just what you would expect him to do. The heart monitor was attached, then he proceeded to feel her body to see if there were any broken bones. Her left leg was at a funny angle so I wasn't surprised when the First Responder said it was broken. There were cuts and grazes on her face and down her side, but it was good to know that it was not life threatening. I had been able to walk away from the wreckage with only cuts and bruises, my clothes were torn, but that didn't matter.
We have been friends for years, ever since we had been to the same school. We learned to do shorthand and typing, and although we went to work in different offices, we met up most lunch times. Along come boys, and eventually we got married and settled down not too far from each other. Our husbands became friends, so we were going out as a foursome, which we enjoyed. Over the years we both had a son and a daughter, similar in age. Then, all of a sudden the children were grown up. Oh! Where had all those years gone? One day I saw and advert in the Echo. I showed it to my friend, who was equally as keen so we answered the advert, filled in the forms, then we were given an address to go to. So, here we are, in the middle of all this carnage. A lady came from nowhere with cups of tea, which was most welcome. The rest of the day passed in a daze, we were so busy. On the way home that evening we said we were both pleased to have had answered the advert to be "victims" in a Red Cross training exercise. The makeup and situation was so real. So there was no COMPENSATION TO PAY and we felt quite proud to have taken part.
Serial
Gradually, as the seconds ticked slowly by on the illuminated dial of the clock beside her bed, she began to relax. Her heartbeat slowed and she sank back on the pillows, her hands releasing their frantic grip on the sheet. She started to recognise the reassuringly familiar night noises; the rustling of the ivy outside the window in the breeze, the hoot of the resident owl in the old oak opposite her window and the usual creaking of the floor boards in the old house. Eventually her eyelids fluttered downwards as they became heavier and she started to drift off to sleep once more. Then she was wide awake again as she recognised the noise which had so abruptly awoken her before. There it was again. What was it? An alien sound intruding into the familiar, a sound which shouldn’t be here in this time and place –and it came from the hall outside her bedroom door.
She lay there biting her lip a habit she had when she was nervous or afraid she reached for her phone and then realised it was down stairs. She started to remember the stories her grandmother used to tell her about the house, which was about 300 years old for the past 200 years, generations of her family had lived here. In that time there had many births and deaths, which had all been recorded in the family diary. However the first 100 years were a mystery there was a legend that a great evil act had taken place but nobody knew exactly what but her grandmother was convinced the house was haunted. She always thought that this was her grandmother’s imagination after all there was no such thing as ghosts. There was the sound again she knew she had to find the courage to open the bedroom door she got out of bed and reached for her glasses put on her slippers and dressing gown something she was aways told to do by her mother and started towards the door when she stopped, had the door handle moved she could hardly breath she watched, waiting for it to move again, eventually she told herself of course it did not move she took hold of the handle opened the door and stepped out onto the landing.
Sheila's had a surprising ending where victims of an accident weren't. This was voted best story. Below the winning story is the serial the winner adds each month.
Sheila's Compensation to pay
The First Response came quickly and calmly felt for a pulse, did blood pressure, just what you would expect him to do. The heart monitor was attached, then he proceeded to feel her body to see if there were any broken bones. Her left leg was at a funny angle so I wasn't surprised when the First Responder said it was broken. There were cuts and grazes on her face and down her side, but it was good to know that it was not life threatening. I had been able to walk away from the wreckage with only cuts and bruises, my clothes were torn, but that didn't matter.
We have been friends for years, ever since we had been to the same school. We learned to do shorthand and typing, and although we went to work in different offices, we met up most lunch times. Along come boys, and eventually we got married and settled down not too far from each other. Our husbands became friends, so we were going out as a foursome, which we enjoyed. Over the years we both had a son and a daughter, similar in age. Then, all of a sudden the children were grown up. Oh! Where had all those years gone? One day I saw and advert in the Echo. I showed it to my friend, who was equally as keen so we answered the advert, filled in the forms, then we were given an address to go to. So, here we are, in the middle of all this carnage. A lady came from nowhere with cups of tea, which was most welcome. The rest of the day passed in a daze, we were so busy. On the way home that evening we said we were both pleased to have had answered the advert to be "victims" in a Red Cross training exercise. The makeup and situation was so real. So there was no COMPENSATION TO PAY and we felt quite proud to have taken part.
Serial
Gradually, as the seconds ticked slowly by on the illuminated dial of the clock beside her bed, she began to relax. Her heartbeat slowed and she sank back on the pillows, her hands releasing their frantic grip on the sheet. She started to recognise the reassuringly familiar night noises; the rustling of the ivy outside the window in the breeze, the hoot of the resident owl in the old oak opposite her window and the usual creaking of the floor boards in the old house. Eventually her eyelids fluttered downwards as they became heavier and she started to drift off to sleep once more. Then she was wide awake again as she recognised the noise which had so abruptly awoken her before. There it was again. What was it? An alien sound intruding into the familiar, a sound which shouldn’t be here in this time and place –and it came from the hall outside her bedroom door.
She lay there biting her lip a habit she had when she was nervous or afraid she reached for her phone and then realised it was down stairs. She started to remember the stories her grandmother used to tell her about the house, which was about 300 years old for the past 200 years, generations of her family had lived here. In that time there had many births and deaths, which had all been recorded in the family diary. However the first 100 years were a mystery there was a legend that a great evil act had taken place but nobody knew exactly what but her grandmother was convinced the house was haunted. She always thought that this was her grandmother’s imagination after all there was no such thing as ghosts. There was the sound again she knew she had to find the courage to open the bedroom door she got out of bed and reached for her glasses put on her slippers and dressing gown something she was aways told to do by her mother and started towards the door when she stopped, had the door handle moved she could hardly breath she watched, waiting for it to move again, eventually she told herself of course it did not move she took hold of the handle opened the door and stepped out onto the landing.
Sunday, 5 July 2009
THE ‘CREATIVE WRITING’ SERIAL!
THE ‘CREATIVE WRITING’ SERIAL!
[commenced Monday, 29th June 2009]
She came awake immediately, sitting up abruptly, her heart thumping crazily, her eyes wide and staring as they roved wildly around the room, trying to pierce the dense blackness, her ears straining for any sound. Had she been dreaming? She had no recollection. What had woken her in such a panic? She clutched the sheet under her chin and continued to listen intently.
Gradually, as the seconds ticked slowly by on the illuminated dial of the clock beside her bed, she began to relax. Her heartbeat slowed and she sank back on the pillows, her hands releasing their frantic grip on the sheet. She started to recognise the reassuringly familiar night noises; the rustling of the ivy outside the window in the breeze, the hoot of the resident owl in the old oak opposite her window and the usual creaking of the floor boards in the old house. Eventually her eyelids fluttered downwards as they became heavier and she started to drift off to sleep once more. Then she was wide awake again as she recognised the noise which had so abruptly awoken her before. There it was again. What was it? An alien sound intruding into the familiar, a sound which shouldn’t be here in this time and place – and it came from the hall outside her bedroom door.
[commenced Monday, 29th June 2009]
She came awake immediately, sitting up abruptly, her heart thumping crazily, her eyes wide and staring as they roved wildly around the room, trying to pierce the dense blackness, her ears straining for any sound. Had she been dreaming? She had no recollection. What had woken her in such a panic? She clutched the sheet under her chin and continued to listen intently.
Gradually, as the seconds ticked slowly by on the illuminated dial of the clock beside her bed, she began to relax. Her heartbeat slowed and she sank back on the pillows, her hands releasing their frantic grip on the sheet. She started to recognise the reassuringly familiar night noises; the rustling of the ivy outside the window in the breeze, the hoot of the resident owl in the old oak opposite her window and the usual creaking of the floor boards in the old house. Eventually her eyelids fluttered downwards as they became heavier and she started to drift off to sleep once more. Then she was wide awake again as she recognised the noise which had so abruptly awoken her before. There it was again. What was it? An alien sound intruding into the familiar, a sound which shouldn’t be here in this time and place – and it came from the hall outside her bedroom door.
Monday, 29 June 2009
29th June
Wonderful hot sunny morning at Woodlands sitting in the garden listening to our varied stories. Bill told of a soldier storming the beaches in 1944. Joan told of the trials trying to grow plants in a garden. Ann about a boy in a coma. John a young officer posted to the far flung empire in Queen Victoria's reign. Pat told of their invite to celebrate the Queen's 50th anniversary. Sally told us more of her adventures in the air force when she was posted abroad. Sheila recounted the frustration of teachers in dealing with unruly children.
Next month the "compensation to pay"
A record set today as seven people voted for one story, making Joan Read the outright winner.
That Annoying
Well Angela said to her friend Mavis was that annoying or not for the fourth year running her sponge cake had come second in the competition at the village fete on the WI stall. "Well that's it" she said "no more cakes I shall do something else." Mavis said "like what" well there are plenty of things to do flower arranging she would give that some thought French I don't think so if I remember rightly I did that at school and I'm pretty sure that my brain and memory were a lot better then. Writing no I have listened to some of the stories written by other people and they are just too good.
Mavis said, " Lets go and sit down and you can drown your sorrows over a cup of coffee" It was then I saw the poster Fed up with the same routine need some excitement and thrills then Skydiving is for you. I showed Mavis the poster and said "this is it" well after she had stopped coughing she had chocked on her coffee she said "are you mad you're 68" well that did it I said "I may be but that is not old" and I rang the number on the poster and made an appointment to go for an assessment the following day.
The next morning I rang Mavis to see if she wanted to come but she replied she had no wish to see me make a fool of myself so I went alone. I was met by a young lady named Francis who told me all about the routine. I would participate in a Tandem skydive which many older people preferred and she played several DVD's of this. She then introduced me to Gary or as she called him the main man who I would be with if I decided to jump. I must admit to being a bit scared but thought I have come this far so I signed the papers but to my horror I was told that as the weather was expected to hold for the next week I could jump if I wished on Wednesday I agreed. Francis asked me to be at the centre for 9 o'clock. When I got home I rang Mavis and told her she said "well if you are intent on killing your self you might as well do it for charity" I thought what a good idea and made out two forms one for the restoration of the local church and one for NSPCC.
The next day I went round and saw everyone I could think of family and friends and by the end of the day both forms were full either side, which I was quite pleased about.
Wednesday dawned sunny and warm and I made my way to the centre I was met by Gary who said we would be jumping at around 2pm this morning would be spent learning the ropes and the moves. All to soon 1.30pm arrived and as we were making our way to the plane I heard a lot of noise and there was Mavis with a number of the ladies from the WI shouting and waving cameras about I put on a brave face waved and boarded the plane. Soon we were up in the air and Gary started attaching the belts and cords that would keep us together and then the door opened and before I knew it we had jumped My cheeks felt as if they were trying to get to the back of my head I looked down and could see the fields, trees and the roads and they were rushing up to meet us when all of a sudden we seemed to go back up and I realised that Gary had opened the parachute and then we were gliding down going left and right as he pulled the cords it was wonderful just as we came to land he said knees up and his feet touched down and then I put my feet down we ran a short distance then stopped. It must have been all over in about 5min but I would never forget the feeling. I thanked Gary and went over and joined my friends we all went into the centre where we had champagne and nibbles and I was presented with my certificate. "Well" Mavis said "what are you going to do next" I replied "that I would have to give that some thought" But that evening when all the bones and muscles in my body ached I came to the conclusion that coming second in cake making was not so bad after all.
Next month the "compensation to pay"
A record set today as seven people voted for one story, making Joan Read the outright winner.
That Annoying
Well Angela said to her friend Mavis was that annoying or not for the fourth year running her sponge cake had come second in the competition at the village fete on the WI stall. "Well that's it" she said "no more cakes I shall do something else." Mavis said "like what" well there are plenty of things to do flower arranging she would give that some thought French I don't think so if I remember rightly I did that at school and I'm pretty sure that my brain and memory were a lot better then. Writing no I have listened to some of the stories written by other people and they are just too good.
Mavis said, " Lets go and sit down and you can drown your sorrows over a cup of coffee" It was then I saw the poster Fed up with the same routine need some excitement and thrills then Skydiving is for you. I showed Mavis the poster and said "this is it" well after she had stopped coughing she had chocked on her coffee she said "are you mad you're 68" well that did it I said "I may be but that is not old" and I rang the number on the poster and made an appointment to go for an assessment the following day.
The next morning I rang Mavis to see if she wanted to come but she replied she had no wish to see me make a fool of myself so I went alone. I was met by a young lady named Francis who told me all about the routine. I would participate in a Tandem skydive which many older people preferred and she played several DVD's of this. She then introduced me to Gary or as she called him the main man who I would be with if I decided to jump. I must admit to being a bit scared but thought I have come this far so I signed the papers but to my horror I was told that as the weather was expected to hold for the next week I could jump if I wished on Wednesday I agreed. Francis asked me to be at the centre for 9 o'clock. When I got home I rang Mavis and told her she said "well if you are intent on killing your self you might as well do it for charity" I thought what a good idea and made out two forms one for the restoration of the local church and one for NSPCC.
The next day I went round and saw everyone I could think of family and friends and by the end of the day both forms were full either side, which I was quite pleased about.
Wednesday dawned sunny and warm and I made my way to the centre I was met by Gary who said we would be jumping at around 2pm this morning would be spent learning the ropes and the moves. All to soon 1.30pm arrived and as we were making our way to the plane I heard a lot of noise and there was Mavis with a number of the ladies from the WI shouting and waving cameras about I put on a brave face waved and boarded the plane. Soon we were up in the air and Gary started attaching the belts and cords that would keep us together and then the door opened and before I knew it we had jumped My cheeks felt as if they were trying to get to the back of my head I looked down and could see the fields, trees and the roads and they were rushing up to meet us when all of a sudden we seemed to go back up and I realised that Gary had opened the parachute and then we were gliding down going left and right as he pulled the cords it was wonderful just as we came to land he said knees up and his feet touched down and then I put my feet down we ran a short distance then stopped. It must have been all over in about 5min but I would never forget the feeling. I thanked Gary and went over and joined my friends we all went into the centre where we had champagne and nibbles and I was presented with my certificate. "Well" Mavis said "what are you going to do next" I replied "that I would have to give that some thought" But that evening when all the bones and muscles in my body ached I came to the conclusion that coming second in cake making was not so bad after all.
Monday, 1 June 2009
June Story
Nicest day of the year so far bright sunshine and very warm. Rosemary joined us for the first time. Sue started us off about the young woman reminded of her past when she stole an eclair. Sheila gave a description of her day at the Wembley cup final. John told us about the Scottish MP and fishing restrictions. Brian a trader with a honey tongue. Joan E a family saga. My effort was about the top of the food chain. Rosemary and hiding the post. Joan R on hidden letters from another age. Ann told of a prank to make a car less in demand for lifts
The winner was Pat's.
Stuffed out of sight
This was to be the theme of our small writers group next project.
I wrote the words on a page from my notebook and put it on the kitchen table, waiting for the" brilliant idea". When, after a while nothing came to mind, I tucked it under the place mat.. you know that old saying, out of sight out of mind.
As it wasn't raining I decided to do a spot of gardening. The gardeners among you will know there is no such thing as a spot of gardening, one thing leads to another and before you know Its time for lunch.
I watched our friendly squirrel hanging by his toe nails trying desperately to eat the peanuts through the supposedly squirrel proof wire, he won. Still no brilliant idea! Finished lunch and returned to the garden. Oh good, those blue crystals had worked their magic and there was a slimy mess left by some hungry snails and slugs, the birds will finish those off. I love these new green slug baits. Whilst tucking long daffodil leaves under the heather to dry of, stuffed out of sight? ?Yes, No.. I spied a huge ants nest in the middle which I poked it about until the ants were running around with their creamy eggs in a panic. Then left them to the waiting robin.
We have had this huge Clematis Armandii in an old water butt which was well passed its re potting date by about 15 years. As its an early bloomer we didn't want to lose it, so decided to remove it from the tub and replant close by. Well, first off we couldn't lift it or dig it out, so my dear husband brought out his saw and cut straight down one side. As this didn't help at all he cut down the other side. This left a hard plastic flap which sprang up every time we tried to lift out the plant. In the end we rolled it slowly on its side desperately hanging on to the long branches and finally put it in the freshly dug hole. It sat there looking at us as the hole was too shallow by about 6". By then we had had it. After 3 days we gathered our strength and tools, we must plant this plant! It took both of us on our knees with a shovel, spade and a plank of wood to lift it out of its hole, dig a little deeper and finally re- plant it. Hooray. I took a couple of cuttings from the branch that had annoyingly snapped, just in case.
At the end of the day, whilst enjoying a well earned cup of tea and cake, I looked at my note again and still couldn't come up with a decent idea for a story, so I stuffed it out of sight, again.
The winner was Pat's.
Stuffed out of sight
This was to be the theme of our small writers group next project.
I wrote the words on a page from my notebook and put it on the kitchen table, waiting for the" brilliant idea". When, after a while nothing came to mind, I tucked it under the place mat.. you know that old saying, out of sight out of mind.
As it wasn't raining I decided to do a spot of gardening. The gardeners among you will know there is no such thing as a spot of gardening, one thing leads to another and before you know Its time for lunch.
I watched our friendly squirrel hanging by his toe nails trying desperately to eat the peanuts through the supposedly squirrel proof wire, he won. Still no brilliant idea! Finished lunch and returned to the garden. Oh good, those blue crystals had worked their magic and there was a slimy mess left by some hungry snails and slugs, the birds will finish those off. I love these new green slug baits. Whilst tucking long daffodil leaves under the heather to dry of, stuffed out of sight? ?Yes, No.. I spied a huge ants nest in the middle which I poked it about until the ants were running around with their creamy eggs in a panic. Then left them to the waiting robin.
We have had this huge Clematis Armandii in an old water butt which was well passed its re potting date by about 15 years. As its an early bloomer we didn't want to lose it, so decided to remove it from the tub and replant close by. Well, first off we couldn't lift it or dig it out, so my dear husband brought out his saw and cut straight down one side. As this didn't help at all he cut down the other side. This left a hard plastic flap which sprang up every time we tried to lift out the plant. In the end we rolled it slowly on its side desperately hanging on to the long branches and finally put it in the freshly dug hole. It sat there looking at us as the hole was too shallow by about 6". By then we had had it. After 3 days we gathered our strength and tools, we must plant this plant! It took both of us on our knees with a shovel, spade and a plank of wood to lift it out of its hole, dig a little deeper and finally re- plant it. Hooray. I took a couple of cuttings from the branch that had annoyingly snapped, just in case.
At the end of the day, whilst enjoying a well earned cup of tea and cake, I looked at my note again and still couldn't come up with a decent idea for a story, so I stuffed it out of sight, again.
Monday, 27 April 2009
27th April
Another mixture of stories with one common theme, "nothing". John's was adventures underground. Joan Read read a disturbing tale of death coming to a family. I recounted a story of anticipated passion. Joan Edmunds told of a missing Premium Bond. Sue told of a woman who floated out into the sea while asleep to be rescued by a fisherman. The question was asked did she marry him but we will perhaps have to wait to find out. Sally told of a spider in the salad based on a real event. Sheila told of childhood memories. Pat gave us the background history to Corfe Castle. Ann took us back into caving.Brian's got the most votes a tale of long ago.
NOTHING
Gone is the forge, with its leather-aproned, shirtsleeved men, sweating in hoof-burned, acrid-dimness. Pulling out white-hot metal from the roaring furnace's eye-catching glow, with long tongs. Then knocking into shape, the hiss and the whisps of steam as the horse shoe's were dipped into the bubbling water.
Gone the sudden jangle of chain and brass, the creak And stomp over us as the great Shire horse's turned at The plough on the headland high banked above the deep Lane. Glancing brown-eyed and black hair-fringed,
Down at us as they passed by.
Gone the square, brass-buckled and broad-shining leather Belted, hobnailed booted men who shovelled coal into Heavy course sacks, which were them loaded onto the Lorries.
Gone are the people who came out from they cottages
With bucket and crook to dip water from their wells.
Gone are the nightingales with bramble-hills and willow,
Which hid, sheltered, nested and fed them, and the night jar,
Spinning its purring web of sound from the centre of the
moonlit field.
Gone the flocks of starlings that rose in dense clouds, to descend into the reed-beds at the mouth of the river,
bending the stems under their weight.
Gone are the Romanies that lived in the forest.
Gone are the Hares, you would see as many as 20 pounding
Round the fields. Grunting, Kicking, Bucking, they boxed
Like Kangaroos, jumping over each other, lashing-out With their hind feet. You never see that in March any more.
Gone are the clicking of milk bottles on the door step in the Morning. Gone are the cry of the RAG & BONE man as he pushes his barrow up the street. Gone are the large white £5 notes.
Gone...." ARE YOU GOING TO SIT THERE ALL DAY? YOUR TEA'S READY, WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN
THINKING OF"?
OH! NOTHING
NOTHING
Gone is the forge, with its leather-aproned, shirtsleeved men, sweating in hoof-burned, acrid-dimness. Pulling out white-hot metal from the roaring furnace's eye-catching glow, with long tongs. Then knocking into shape, the hiss and the whisps of steam as the horse shoe's were dipped into the bubbling water.
Gone the sudden jangle of chain and brass, the creak And stomp over us as the great Shire horse's turned at The plough on the headland high banked above the deep Lane. Glancing brown-eyed and black hair-fringed,
Down at us as they passed by.
Gone the square, brass-buckled and broad-shining leather Belted, hobnailed booted men who shovelled coal into Heavy course sacks, which were them loaded onto the Lorries.
Gone are the people who came out from they cottages
With bucket and crook to dip water from their wells.
Gone are the nightingales with bramble-hills and willow,
Which hid, sheltered, nested and fed them, and the night jar,
Spinning its purring web of sound from the centre of the
moonlit field.
Gone the flocks of starlings that rose in dense clouds, to descend into the reed-beds at the mouth of the river,
bending the stems under their weight.
Gone are the Romanies that lived in the forest.
Gone are the Hares, you would see as many as 20 pounding
Round the fields. Grunting, Kicking, Bucking, they boxed
Like Kangaroos, jumping over each other, lashing-out With their hind feet. You never see that in March any more.
Gone are the clicking of milk bottles on the door step in the Morning. Gone are the cry of the RAG & BONE man as he pushes his barrow up the street. Gone are the large white £5 notes.
Gone...." ARE YOU GOING TO SIT THERE ALL DAY? YOUR TEA'S READY, WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN
THINKING OF"?
OH! NOTHING
Monday, 30 March 2009
30th March
Meeting at John and Sheila's in their sunny front room by nine dedicated would be authors and very good stories to tell. Joan E told of the time we had a bonfire in our garden. Sue a very disturbing one about a child being abused. Ann wrote about promotion that brought tears to the eyes. John hot air balloon, Brian ghosts, Sheila about flowers and working at a garden nursery. My contribution compensation for an accident. But Joan Read came tops in the voting.
Tears
Fiona McNab sat on her bed and looked in the mirror, the image she saw was of a green eyed woman quite pretty but nothing out of the ordinary except for one thing, there was also another image looking at her in the mirror, that of a young girl. Her long black hair was braided and fell as two plaits either side of her shoulders, she wore a shift and on her feet were moccasins Fiona had seen this girl many times since they had moved into this ranch. Her husband Richard went ballistic when she mentioned it. He said that her ability to see people that were not there was just her imagination but she knew without a shadow of doubt that this girl whether she was a ghost an apparition or spirit needed help.
Fiona went outside into the paddock where she saw old Tom leaning on the fence he had been called this since he was 17. He was now in his 76th year. She asked him if there was anything unusual about this land." Well now" he said chewing on a piece of grass "the land here as far as you can see used to be Indian land and there is a legend that a massacre took place near here. A troop of cavalry returning from a battle with Cochise (who was a Chiricahua Apache) came upon this village and slaughtered the woman and children but this had never been proven."
Fiona thanked him and continued her walk, after about I5 minutes she came upon an old barn which looked as if it was about to fall down. Before she got to the door, it opened. Fiona could hardly breath her heart was pumping so hard she thought it would burst. Just inside the door she saw the girl who beckoned to her. She went in and the door closed behind her. As her eyes became accustomed to the light she saw them. Woman and children some standing some sitting and some sleeping. Just as she was about to question the girl the door flew open and there was her husband, she said "Richard can you see them". He got hold of her shoulders and even though the tears were running down her face he shook her hard and yelled at her "do you really want everyone to think that you are mad" he was furious "enough of this nonsense" he yelled and with that he left. Just then Tom came in "You hear them don't you" he said "No" Fiona answered, "I saw them, they are here in this barn waiting for us. We need to dig up the floor". Tom said he would arrange for a machine and driver to come tomorrow. That evening when her husband came in Fiona kept quite she never mentioned the vision or the barn or about tomorrows event she knew he did not understand or believe.
The next morning when all was quiet the digging started it was not long before the first skeleton was found they could see that it was of a small child Tom phoned the sheriff and soon there were forensic scientist, anthropologists, historians and photographers all over the place by late afternoon 40 bodies had been found all of them were woman and children. When Richard finally arrived home Fiona could see by his face that their marriage was over but she knew it was worth it when she looked into the mirror that night and the image of the girl seemed to say "Thank you" and Fiona knew that she would not see her again. The bodies would be recorded and then buried according to Indian ritual on a sacred piece of land where hopefully they would remain in peace.
Tears
Fiona McNab sat on her bed and looked in the mirror, the image she saw was of a green eyed woman quite pretty but nothing out of the ordinary except for one thing, there was also another image looking at her in the mirror, that of a young girl. Her long black hair was braided and fell as two plaits either side of her shoulders, she wore a shift and on her feet were moccasins Fiona had seen this girl many times since they had moved into this ranch. Her husband Richard went ballistic when she mentioned it. He said that her ability to see people that were not there was just her imagination but she knew without a shadow of doubt that this girl whether she was a ghost an apparition or spirit needed help.
Fiona went outside into the paddock where she saw old Tom leaning on the fence he had been called this since he was 17. He was now in his 76th year. She asked him if there was anything unusual about this land." Well now" he said chewing on a piece of grass "the land here as far as you can see used to be Indian land and there is a legend that a massacre took place near here. A troop of cavalry returning from a battle with Cochise (who was a Chiricahua Apache) came upon this village and slaughtered the woman and children but this had never been proven."
Fiona thanked him and continued her walk, after about I5 minutes she came upon an old barn which looked as if it was about to fall down. Before she got to the door, it opened. Fiona could hardly breath her heart was pumping so hard she thought it would burst. Just inside the door she saw the girl who beckoned to her. She went in and the door closed behind her. As her eyes became accustomed to the light she saw them. Woman and children some standing some sitting and some sleeping. Just as she was about to question the girl the door flew open and there was her husband, she said "Richard can you see them". He got hold of her shoulders and even though the tears were running down her face he shook her hard and yelled at her "do you really want everyone to think that you are mad" he was furious "enough of this nonsense" he yelled and with that he left. Just then Tom came in "You hear them don't you" he said "No" Fiona answered, "I saw them, they are here in this barn waiting for us. We need to dig up the floor". Tom said he would arrange for a machine and driver to come tomorrow. That evening when her husband came in Fiona kept quite she never mentioned the vision or the barn or about tomorrows event she knew he did not understand or believe.
The next morning when all was quiet the digging started it was not long before the first skeleton was found they could see that it was of a small child Tom phoned the sheriff and soon there were forensic scientist, anthropologists, historians and photographers all over the place by late afternoon 40 bodies had been found all of them were woman and children. When Richard finally arrived home Fiona could see by his face that their marriage was over but she knew it was worth it when she looked into the mirror that night and the image of the girl seemed to say "Thank you" and Fiona knew that she would not see her again. The bodies would be recorded and then buried according to Indian ritual on a sacred piece of land where hopefully they would remain in peace.
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