Coffee Break Fiction by Lynn Ede

Lo's News - Short Story

2009-07-28T10:19:00.000-07:00

Ok so here's my short story, 500 words, set by taking the 5th sentence on the 56th page of a random page of a book nearest to Dive, who is setting the task this time for Robyn, me and any of you who want to join in the writing challenge! Hope you enjoy Lo's News.

And again next day a thinly populated sky, losing its blue to the heat, would melt overhead, and Lo would clamour for a drink, and her cheeks would hollow vigorously over the straw, and the car inside would be a furnace when we got in again, and the road shimmered ahead, with a remote car changing its shape mirage-like in the surface glare, and seeming to hang for a moment, old-fashionedly square and high, in the hot haze.

I adjusted my glasses, pulled my tie away from my tight collar and stared at the mirror; my son sitting in back. What a great little guy he was, adapable, resourceful. Most kids would've complained about unscheduled stops overnight. Not him. He'd stepped up, taking direction yet thinking for himself, all at the age of 13. I was proud. Together, our first real job. My little apprentice. Lo passed the drink to him.

"Get that all down now, sun's high in the sky. We don't want you dehydrated." He did as his Mama told him.

"Now we've a late start, thanks to you two," Lo went on, talking half to herself, as she so often did. "I wanted to make there by lunch," she pointed to the map she was pouring over, "to write a travel piece. Now whatever you two were up to last night has held us back."

We boys shot her a look.

"Wait a second." I warned, "You're complaining at us for going off doing boys' stuff and you're talking WORK on vacation?"

Lo sighed, her dark hair flipping her face as she screwed up her pretty eyes defensively. "Just an hour..."

"Then another hour to write, send it off, yeah, we know, Ma." put in Chris, right on the button. I nodded in male solidarity.

"Ok, ok! There!" Lo's finger scratched the map's coastal town she wanted and we drove off, teasing her as usual and getting away with it.

Later, we splashed in the ocean, kicked up sand and ate on the beach. Relaxation was good. It'd been tough but right now I knew all in the world was right. Chris rubbed down his body with the towel - he was growing fast. All muscle but the gawkiness of a teenager. Just then a woman screamed.

"I can't get it off her!"

We saw a boat had fallen on her daughter's leg. I jumped up to help but Chris said he'd got it. We watched proudly him heave the sturdy rowboat full of equipment off the girl, by which time medical help arrived and they took over. I slapped his back on his return. He smiled but looked distant.

"What's...?" I started to ask but Lo's voice intervened. She was by the trunk of the car. "Your wet things're here in back, Chris, then we'd better..."

She trailed off. Her thin fingers pulled the garment sticking out from the case. I frowned at my boy. How many times? Properly put this away afterwards!

"Is this where you were all night, you two?" Lo demanded, holding up the red & blue clothes. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"You'd have fretted." I told her. She nodded.
"What's wrong, Chris, sweetheart? his mother asked him.
"Yeah, you look troubled, son, what is it?" I added, with a pit in my stomach, suddenly getting it.
"They want me." he told crying Lois. "Zod wants me back. I'm going. I have to. Soon."

Harry's Legacy

2009-07-14T05:54:00.001-07:00

Harry's Legacy - Short based on one sentence
This is a short story based on the fifth line on the 56th page of a random book taken nearest to me. Robyn and I decided to each write a story based around our first sentences, gleaned in this way and limited ourselves to 500 words. Hope you enjoy!

'The sweat blinded me and in one last purposeful gesture I drew together the threads linking the rhythm of our movements and knotted them in an elegant shimmer of power.'
Harry composed the next line, his memories coming into play as he poised the fountain pen, scratching excitedly on the paper.
‘The dance of love was overpowering, draining, exhilarating. Jack lay still next to Mia, watching her chest rise and fall, her eyes closed. How stunningly beautiful she was at this time, always. He took the…’
Harry heard footsteps and put away his notebook in the drawer of his desk, expertly taking his newspaper, looking puzzled at the next crossword clue.
“Darling, come on! You’re not even dressed yet. They’ll be here soon; aren’t you going to get ready?”
Sybil, his wife, had entered, her hair be-scarfed, tied at the nape of her neck, habitually, these days. His eyes fell to her feet, encased in slatted sandals; she had several pairs, same style, just different colours. Flat. Her dress, following same philosophy; the blue one. Falling from the yolk, nipped in at the waist with a tie at the back. It put Harry in mind of an apron but he knew better than to answer anything but his dutiful ‘yes dear, you look lovely’.
Sighing, he relented: “Er, yes, coming. I thought I’d wear my…”
“Silly!” interjected Sybil, “I’ve put your clothes out all ready! Brown trousers, with the check shirt. Don’t forget the tie and don’t for goodness’ sakes wear those black shoes, you know I hate them. The brown ones are ready by the bed.”
Harry sighed. What point? He’d spend the day with his toes crunched in the awful brown ones, all for a quiet life. He laid his pen down on the unfinished crossword, now months old, but who bothered to check? No-one.
He had only two, maybe three lines to finish. Could he manage it, before Sybil came in again, her schedule at the ready? Quickly he pulled on the brown ensemble, including sadistic shoes and returned to his desk. Lovingly, he opened the notebook, numbered no. 23, from the drawer. He penned the last.
‘.. he took the sheet and covered her delicate skin, the sun kissing it gently through the window. From the pillow, he exposed the small box and kissed Mia’s eyelids. “Open,” he whispered. She did and, shocked but grinning saw, inside, the solitaire. “Don’t go home to him, not ever again.” he pleaded. “Marry me.”
It was done! Complete. Just then the door opened. In rushed little Annabel, just sixteen and holding out a wrapped gift.
“Happy Birthday!” she squealed.
Harry took the gift from his adored granddaughter, but first, added the notebook to his cabinet in the corner, locking it carefully.
“I have something for you too. Take this key and open that after I’ve … gone. There’s something in there for you to publish. Promise me you will.”
Confused but trusting, Annabel replied, “I promise, Gramps. Happy 80th!”

Last Family

2008-10-10T17:22:00.000-07:00

Someone just reminded me of an excellent book, if you're looking for something different. I've probably mentioned it before, but it certainly stands another shout. Something funny, touching and a comment on society today. You can read my review, here.

2008-04-22T03:35:00.000-07:00

Ok here's another meme for you, kind of like a chain meme i suppose, consisting of only six words describing your memoir! Yes, you've got time for that. I was kindly tagged by Gerald in Cheshire, UK. Hmm, how to describe your life in so few words? Not easy. All that stuff. I suppose my over-riding thought is how fast it all goes past when you're having fun, myriad memories good and bad, with the changing outward shell belying the ever-young thoughts still within. How to condense it into six words, though? Thinks...................

The meme instructions are:

Write your own six word memoir.
Post it on your blog; include a visual illustration if you'd like.
Link to the person that tagged you in your post, and to the original post if possible.
Tag at least five more blogs with links.
Leave a comment on the tagged blogs with an invitation to play!

The six word memoir I came up with is:

Who's That Imposter In My Mirror?

So the bloggers i tag are, as follows:

1. Dive in Norwich. He likes Memes.
2. Rose in Canterbury. She'll be up for this.
3. Petrea in USA. She'll act her part.
4. M. Benaut in Adelaide. Mme will help.
5. Katie in USA. Her life in a postcard.

Have fun! Over to you.

Coffee Break Fiction - Sash Windows by Lynn Ede

2008-02-21T03:30:00.000-08:00

The cold hit my arse with a shock not unpleasant. Isn’t it strange how you’re dying to go to the loo, then when you do, nothing comes for a while? I surveyed the bathroom. Bare floorboards under my naked feet – I’d left my flipflops at the door out of politeness - my jeans now rested in a wrinkled pile upon my feet, diamante belt splayed outwards and my knickers stretched between my knees. No, that’s me I’m telling you about, isn't it. So; the bathroom? Well it’s Victorian and large. No, it’s huge. Nice old roll-top bath to my right in the corner and a shower over to the right of that, next to the door behind me. Bloody great; it’s a double shower!

Cold though, in here. I rubbed my feet along and back of the floorboards and rubbed my thighs. Why, I don’t know, it was still freezing. To my front left, at the foot of the sink on the floor, was a battered Sunday Times supp. I reached over, nearly falling, to get it. I flicked through the adverts to the one bit worth reading, at the back: What’s In My Drawers? In the picture I checked off a few things, chuckling wryly, yep I have that too. Oh yes and that. What’s she got THAT for? Oooh that’s a good idea, I’ll put one of those in my drawer.

I looked up from the mag to do some thinking because that’s where thinking is done, upwards. I stared through the big sash window. No, it was massive, not just big. Wow. Oh that’s what they mean by the ‘wow factor’ then. I peered through the open gash which was clearly blowing the cold in. Right. Should have seen that before I sat down.

There was another similar building just a few feet across the way. I could make out a figure, standing. Oh, he’s peeing. Nice. Couple of shakes, zip, then he bent to his right. My way. Ducking slightly, I saw that a head had appeared. Through his sash. Yep, there it was! And here I was, sitting on the loo with only a couple of widely open windows and some feet of open air space between us. He had a close No. 1 haircut, a navy blue suit. Tattered, but a suit and a very smiley face! Jesus, he was looking straight in at me! There he was. Yep, straight at me. Wide smile, arched eyebrows.

“Hi!” he said and did a little wave.

I shook my head a little in some disbelief and shifted my eyes to the right but they went back again. To him. I placed the mag on my lap and did a bemused wave back, whilst pulling my knees together and putting my feet onto tip-toes. It somehow felt the thing to do.

“Uh… hello.” I replied, with a reluctant smirk and a frown to boot.

You won’t believe what happened next. The suited legs appeared at his sash and came out through it, then his arms, then the head. Still smiling. He was standing outside, three floors up! How? Ah, the noise gave it away, iron sounding on the fire escape as he stepped – only four of them – over to my sash. He popped his head into the window most casually, but dear Reader, worse than that, he spoke to me again, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“I know you.” he pointed out, “You’re Jasmin.”

“Jasmine, yes. Um… I…”

I gestured to my half-naked self but it had no effect.

“Yeah, Jasmeeen, that’s it. Well fancy that.”

I’d met him at a couple of parties a while back. He’d been smiling then, too. He lifted another suited leg, held onto my sash, then another leg and his whole person was now in the bathroom with me. Suddenly I went to stand up, dropping the mag on the floor along with my jaw.

“Well, hang on!” I objected, my most fearsome words coming to the fore and being betrayed by my own annoyingly polite laugh, “I don’t think… I mean, I hardly know you!”

“I’m D…” he began, holding his hands out in explanation and grinning madly all the while.

“Yes, yes I know, you’re Duncan.”

Swiftly, realising he was there to stay – he was now shifting from shoe to shoe on my floorboards and rubbing his hands together - I did a hoveringly awkward quarter turn, facing him, half bent, so that my bare bottom faced the wall. I fashioned a very quick wipe with the tissue I’d had in my hand, hoping he wouldn’t see any of my ‘me’ bit, though he didn’t turn away at all. Not even briefly. Incredible! I grabbed at the knickers, hauled them up unceremoniously at the back first so they covered the front pretty much soon after, then pulled up, straightened and quickly fastened my jeans.

“So.” he said, rather loudly. “What you doing here, then?”

“I’m ... well, i'm looking at some rooms. Here, in this building. This would be my bathroom.”

“Great.” he said, looking at it. “It’s just like mine.” He gave a nod towards the double shower and raised one eyebrow. “Don’t find these often –" then, unerringly he rattled on, "look, um, I’m just going to knock up some breakfast. Eggs, bacon, you know, jam, toast….tea. Or... coffee, if you prefer? I have coffee too. Some free samples i got, in fact. But!" he added loudly again, "It's still coffee! Ha ha. So; when you’ve finished, pop over and join me?”

He reached over to drag at my arm and showed me through the sash. The wrought iron construction looked fairly sturdy with railings and a large platform over which he’d travelled.

“Yeah!” he said, reading my mind. “Come through the bathroom! I’ll see you ... in a while then.”

His hand came to my chin and pushed it up slightly, very gently.

“Catch flies that way,” he said, still smiling. He had clear, blue eyes and the No. 1 was kind of blonde.

He stepped back over the sash into the fresh morning sky, but not before chuckling behind him:

“By the way, that mirror behind you works a treat. Nice arse.”

I spun round.

……..to be continued……

If you've time for more fiction, simply search at the top of this blog for Coffee Break.

New Year Meme

2008-01-06T12:47:00.000-08:00

Here's a Meme i nicked from Dive. As usual. Who nicked it from someone else. As usual.

1) Where did you begin 2007?: At the pub. Oops no thought you meant 2008. I was at home, watching Jools Holland, drinking champagne and pulling crackers. Usual stuff. I'd been to a different pub at lunchtime though with a friend, chatting over a crackling fire.

2) What was your status on Valentine's Day?: With a boyfriend. Wondering why he had not got me a card. I should have realised then.

3) Were you in school (anytime this year)?: No.

4) How did you earn your money?: Writing. Photography.

5) Did you have to go to the hospital?: Yes several times unfortunately. All ok though. Took others too for appointments. Visited one.

6) Did you have any encounters with the police?: Yes several times. On a personal basis (relationship; now history) and work based too.

7) Where did you go on vacation?: I haven't been on hols for more years than i care to count.

8) What did you purchase that was over $1000?: A car.

9) Did you know anybody who got married?: Nope.

10) Did you know anybody who passed away?: Yes. Didn't know him very well but it made me very sad. He - just 19 - was lost in the floods and i think of him every time i am at the Abbey.

12) Did you move anywhere?: No

13) How did you celebrate your birthday?: A good meal and a chat with my son. Also at the pub on a different day. Yes i'm often at the pub but i drink - fruit juices!

14) What concerts/shows did you go to?: A theatrical sex show.

15) Are you registered to vote?: Yes

16) Who did you want to win Big Brother?: Don't care.

17) Where do you live now?: Gloucestershire

18) How did you spend your summer break?: Didn't really have one.

19) What's one thing you thought you'd never do but did in 2007?: Trust the wrong man. Again. Stupid.

20) What has been your favorite moment?: Oh, many. Can't really list them but having all 3 sons at home for Christmas was wonderful.

21) What's something you learned about yourself?: I'm strong. I've had to be.

22) Any new additions to your family?: No

23.) What was your worst month?: Won't say.

24.) What music will you remember 2007 by?: Amy Winehouse

25) Who has been your best drinking buddy? Everyone at the pub.

26) Made new friends?: Yes. One in particular.

27) New best friend?: Same two as always.

28) Favorite night out?: Two. One watching a silly friend in a play with other good friends. Good fun. The other was a quiet drink discussing interesting things with a very interesting man... he shall remain nameless apart from M.

29) What sporting events did you attend?: None

30) What was your best month?: December

31) Overall, how would you rate 2007 out of 10?: 2

32) Other than home, where did you spend most of your time?: At my friends' hotel/pub.

33) Did you change your hairstyle?: No

34) Have any car accidents?: No though i lost my car in the floods

35) Did you have a New Year's resolution?: No chocs and early to bed. Achieved neither so far.

36) Do anything embarrassing?: Don't think so.

37) Buy anything new from eBay?: no

38) Get married?: no

39) Get arrested?: no

40) Be honest - did you watch American Idol?: no

41) Did you get sick in 2007?: yep a bit

42) Been snowboarding?: pah!

43) Are you happy to see 2007 go?: Yup.

Roll on 2008 i say. Your turn!

Poetry after 65 years? Must be good!

2007-12-10T07:03:00.000-08:00

Recently my father sat down and wrote a poem to my mother about their lives. They lived in Whetstone and Finchley in north London. I'm so touched by it and hope you will enjoy it too. He's a romantic old thing.

-----------------------------------

I remember, yes, I remember
The summer of forty two
The sirens loud
The guns and bombs

In Britain's struggle
To win through

And at that time
A change of schools
Sent me to Holly Park
So strict, but fair
No place to suffer fools

Then in these momentous days
A happening so great
To shake my youthful ways

I remember, yes, I remember
The girl that I saw there
In class 1a, the same as I
I tried hard not to stare

Her hair so dark and neat
With eyes more brown than brown
I glimpsed her in her seat

And even then
My heartstring woke
And stirred within my mind

Her name was Joyce
And plain to see
She was the girl for me

We went through school
And not a class apart
Until our time was through

Fourteen, the year to leave
Our working life to start

I remember, yes, I remember
The winter of forty five
Her schooldays done
Six months in front of mine

This must be it!
She’s gone
And I’d not sense to ask
To meet again
And could it be soon?

New ways for us so young
Find jobs and learn a trade
A year slips by
Sad thoughts of dates not made

I remember, yes, I remember
The winter of forty six
While working in my office
A new girl is employed

I know this girl!
It’s Joyce’s friend
From Holly Park, our school!

I ask her how Joyce is
The answer “very well”
I say “and will you please
Ask if we can meet?”

The answer relayed back to me
It really is a yes!

The meet’s arranged
It’s in our lunch hour
We’ll meet on her way home

Ten minutes by bus
And I am there

I know where she will walk
My tie is straight
Excitement tense
But can I sensibly talk?

I see her then
It’s her, and no mistake
Her hair so dark
Eyes sparkling brown

The schoolgirl that I knew
No longer was in view
But here, grown up
And very lovely too

We talked and walked
To where she lived
Time short
Can’t be late
I had to catch my bus

Must go, but then,
I have just made the date!

I remember, yes, I remember
The evening of our first date
Cold January twenty nine
I’m early (can not be late)
I wait outside the Odeon
Who’s cold? Not me! I’m fine

The bus, a one-two-five
Comes rushing to a stop
I see her getting off and then
I greet her with a smile

Two 'two and nines'
The price I pay
The best seats in the house
And would she like some chocs?
The ones we both will always share
Our favourite ‘Dairy Box’

The film show over now
We stand for ‘God Save the King’
It’s time to take her home
We queue together at the stop
The wind blows freezing cold

I wrap my coat around us both
I say, to keep her warm
But truth to own
It brings us close
So I can look
Into her eyes so brown

I remember, yes, I remember
The Autumn of nineteen fifty
Three happy years we’ve spent
Together all the while
And now it’s National Service time
My call-up soon is sent

Two years to serve
It’s in the RAF
How long to be apart? -
It’s not so bad
As I had thought

I often can get home
On many a Weekend Pass

Our letters to each other
Pass, daily in the post
Mine sometimes do contain
A short but loving rhyme
And hers to me the same
But sometimes also this
End with a lipstick kiss

My National Service days now done
I’m back in Civvie Street
So good to see her all the time
To make our plans complete

Ten years have now gone by
Since the summer of forty two
When first I saw her face
Then was it luck?
Or maybe fate?
That winter of forty six

I remember, yes, I remember
The summer of fifty three
The Queen and Coronation Day
But no, much more than that!
In June that year our wedding
At All Saint’s, Oakleigh Road

I turn and look to see her
Coming down the Aisle
She’s on her Father’s arm

Her dress pure white
And darker shows her hair
Her eyes of course are shining brown
But finely covered by her veil
Then smiles that both we share

She says “I will! So softly
Then, and in my turn
I say that “I will” too

A fine reception
Enjoyed by all
Was in the Springfield Hall
Then came the time
For Bride and Groom to leave
The music, food and wine

Her Mother came and held my hand
And said “look after her”
She knew, of course, I would
I said “You know I will”
The best way that I could

I remember, yes, I remember
The spring of fifty seven
In March that year
Was born, and to our joy,
A healthy baby Boy

Two years on
Then April fifty nine
To put us in a whirl
A lovely baby Girl

I remember, yes, I remember
All the years since then
A further forty eight have passed

So can it really be?
Sixty years and five
Since that summer of forty two
When first we met in school

Two images have stayed
Fixed always in my mind
Of Joyce at Holly Park School
Sitting at her desk

And see her then so clear
Stepping from the bus
And knowing that from there
It’ll be not You or Me
But Us

Roland Ede 2007

Forget Them Not

2007-11-11T16:58:00.000-08:00

Remembrance Day 2007. Two minutes' silence was observed by most of the nation for those killed in world war I, II and others since. This is Tewkesbury's offering, at the cross in the centre of town. Earlier there had been a full parade, attended by veterans.

MEME

2007-11-01T13:16:00.000-07:00

Yes it's Meme time. Grabbed from Dive, who stole it from Maria. You can pinch it from me if you want.

Name one person who made you laugh last night.

My son Charlie. We reversed roles for a minute. I was the stereotypical sulky teen (though he isn't sulky at all) and he told me to be in by ten. So unfair.

What were you doing at 8:00?

Er.. watching Eastenders. First time in ages! Honestly! I don't know who's who anymore.

What were you doing thirty minutes ago?

Working. Out reporting.

What happened to you in 2006?

It was a great summer actually though didn't go on holiday. I gained something and lost something. I swam a lot.

What was the last thing that you said out loud?

"I'm home darling would you like a cup of tea?"

How many beverages did you have today?

Probably about four cups of tea and two large glasses of cranberry juice. Also a glass of veg juice because i thought i should. It was vile.

What color is your hairbrush?

My comb is black.

What was the last thing that you paid for?

Food shopping: fruit, veg, salmon, juice, wine, girly shampoo, cake tins, flour, men's shower gel, loo rolls, bread, milk, newspapers.

Where were you last night?

At the pub, talking with some friends and eating with two of them.

What color is your front door?

White.

Where do you keep your change?

Stupidly, all in my purse. It bulges ridiculously yet i keep breaking into fivers. I sometimes empty it into a large whisky bottle.

What's the weather like today?

Quite muggy. Misty. Mild.

What's the best ice cream flavor?

Chocolate of course. With chips. Or vanilla sprinkled with drinking chocolate powder.

What excites you?

Words. Art. Property. Handbags. Perfume. A couple of other things.... ;)

Do you want to cut your hair?

No. I like it long.

Are you over the age of 25?

Er a bit yes. You could say that.

Do you talk a lot?

Yes although i see myself as a quiet person and talk quietly usually.

Do you watch The O.C?

No.

Do you know anyone named Steven?

Yes one Steve, one Stephen and another Steve.

Do you make up your own language?

Sometimes. My sons picked it up when they were little and did it too. Screwsy is one of theirs. Means when something is sour and your face screws up. It's screwsy (sour really)

Are you jealous?

Envious of people: no never. Jealous: can be on occasions, but only if a man is a cheat. Brief jealousy then decision to finish. Can't be doing with that rubbish.

Name a friend whose name starts with the letter A.

Andy.

Name a friend whose name starts with the letter K.

Katherine. Kevin.

Who is the first person on your received call list?

My brother.

What does the last text message you received say?

Thanks. Tried to get desk interested but no. It's a great story.

Do you chew on your straw?

Uh?

Do you have curly hair?

No.

Where's the next place you are gonna go?

Council offices. To interview the MP Lawrence Robertson.

Who's the rudest person in your life?

Two ex-es.

What was the last thing you ate?

Home made crumble and custard. I ate it rather like Nigella Lawson does, pouting, smiling and licking my lips. Making someone laugh i hasten to add, i wasn't sitting there on my own.

Will you get married in the future?

No idea. It's a possibility if i meet the right person.

What was the best movie you have seen in the past two weeks?

Haven't seen a movie in that time, but watched the tv series Fanny Hill.

Is there anyone you like right now?

Yes several.

When was the last time you did the dishes?

About two hours ago.

Are you currently depressed?

No.

Did you cry today?

Yes, briefly, at a happy story.

Your turn.

Music Memories

2007-08-27T12:52:00.000-07:00

Dive has jogged my memory music wise, so here's a piece of Marvin Gaye for you. I saw him live at the Royal Albert Hall just a few years before he died, probably around the time of this video. He was incredible, as i'm sure you know.

MORE OLD PAPERS

2007-08-01T16:12:00.001-07:00

More flood damaged basement contents; old papers. This one not so old at 1980. Interesting none the less. What were you doing then on July 24th 1980? I had just turned twenty one. I think i still had my Swiss boyfriend at that time who used to send surprise air tickets over in his letters. We travelled around Switzerland together at different times and into France whilst he moved with his job. Lovely time, but long distance relationships... difficult! We may have finished by then i cannot recall, but i still think of him.

Old News

2007-07-30T04:22:00.001-07:00

I discovered this old newspaper by the kerb - a sad product of a flooded basement in Tewkesbury, UK. Part of a pile of goods ready to be dumped. It's dated 1949 and if you click on the pic you can read some of the stories. You'll find the front page here.

What were you or your parents doing on Thursday, July 15th 1949? My father says he was probably out riding his motorbike - an Ariel 1948 350 Red Hunter - around Finchley, north London. My mother had just finished her apprenticeship as a hairdresser and was working at Raynor's Hairdressers in Old Southgate, N11 - London.

I, of course, wasn't born. lol. What's that look for?

Book Review - Dead Father's Club - Matt Haig by Lynn

2007-05-21T02:14:00.000-07:00

Dead Father’s Club – Matt Haig. Random House paperback £11.99

Highly original in its presentation, yet with marked comparison to Hamlet, this yarn speaks to us all through the mind of an eleven year old boy and his dead father’s ghost. As alarming as that sounds, it’s surprisingly easy to accept. Like in Shakespeare’s tale, the lad, Philip Noble, learns that his Dad didn’t die but was murdered. Dad’s Ghost, as Philip calls him, reveals this information and his son is given the task of seeking retribution against the killer, his Dad’s own brother, Uncle Alan.

Home for Philip is a public house, somewhat squalid and sordid with dodgy friends and acquaintances dropping by. Philip struggles with his grief as one might imagine a young boy would but added to his misery is his mother’s increasing reliance on the murderer himself. Uncle Alan moves in to the family home, assuming the paternal role, inciting a bubbling fury inside Phillip whose loyalty is to his father.

Running through the book is the presence of Dad’s Ghost who is stuck in the hapless hell of ‘the terrors’ – a halfway existence of purgatorial pain – .until revenge against Uncle Alan, his killer, can be realised. Phillip is chosen to secure this freedom for his Dad and so ensues endless plans for a tit-for-tat murder plot which sees Philip driven mad by the task

Like most burgeoning teens Phillip finds love in a girl, called Leah, distracting him from the mission and becoming part of the plot itself. Matt Haig’s descriptions of grief, as told from a young person’s perspective, are moving indeed with accurate portrayal of young, pubescent angst.

The language is told in stream of consciousness style, unpunctuated and sometimes rambling, intended no doubt to show the way a young boy’s mind works. Once you get used to this it does add something to the text, though at times is irritating in that it comes out more like a five year old’s lingo. Eleven year-olds, especially today, have more mature thoughts and actions than sometimes appear in this book.

That said, Dead Father’s Club is one of those must-reads of the year provoking thought and insightful peeks into the mind of the bereaved along with intriguing other-worldly goings-on set in a compelling tale.

2007-05-09T09:34:00.001-07:00

More from the Seventies Teenager - Extract from my Journal 1972

2007-05-09T08:12:00.000-07:00

For some reason the comments box has disappeared so i'll make another one here at the top for you!

Monday April 10^th 1972

Got to bed at my cousin’s last night really late, because her husband wanted to know all about France and it was good fun telling him. Maggie was quite interested but went to bed first because the baby wake up in the night she said. She said the next night I could wake up in the night when the baby cries and give her the bottle. Got up at 4 o/c this morning and was sick. Went back to bed. Went to town this morning, Haverhill. I know the town quite well now. It wasn’t good though because I was sick in the post office and fainted. There was this old woman staring at me. She wouldn’t stop staring. Saw the doctor this evening and got medicine.

Tuesday April 11^th 1972

Went to my Auntie’s today and saw my other cousin, Tom, who’s twenty something and likes making me blush. Wrote some letters home. Tom said he might take me to see Tutankamun in London. I hope he does. Stayed up talking until ¼ to 3! My Auntie told him to make sure I went to bed, so he did, then put his head round the door an hour later, whispering that everyone was asleep so we went down to the kitchen and talked and he made coffee. He’s not good at making coffee, it was too strong and made me wide awake.

Wednesday April 12^th 1972

David Cassidy’s birthday today! I sent him a card to his studio in America but I bet he doesn’t get it. He’s twenty two today. Took Louise out for a walk and saw a nice boy in the shop but only said Hello as Louise was frightened of him. Got letter from Mum and Dad with £1 in it. They always do that when I’m here. Went to the market. Bought some new tights with spots on them.

Thursday April 13^th 1972

Spent 54p. Came to my cousin’s with £8.95 and got £8.41 left. I’m busy here, no time to write. Got to change Louise now for the Babies’ tea she’s going to.

Friday April 14^th 1972

Stayed in, changing nappies and talking to Maggie. Cleaned the house for her while she went out. Favourite sweet: Bounty. Bed at 11.30

Saturday April 15^th 1972

Maggie went to a wedding so I babysat. It was quiet. Louise was a good girl and I played with her until she was tired. She fell asleep on my lap so I carried her upstairs and tucked her in. I liked being in charge of the house and making my own coffee when I want it. Maggie and Pete had drunk quite a bit when they came in, they were laughing and loud. I was asleep on the sofa. I didn’t go to bed.

Pop song – Amazing Grace. I hate it.

Sunday April 16^th 1972

Came home to Cobham at ½ 10 this morning. Had a long bath with oils in it and did my hair because Sarah and I went out this afternoon and walked around the town. Saw some friends, well, people we know who told us they went to a disco at Oxshott and had their names taken by the police. I don’t know why though and I didn’t ask. They weren’t really telling me about it anyway, I just listened. Wore my new Oxford Bags –very flared trousers - they have large checks in browns and creams and they feel very floppy around my ankles as I walk. They are very long and luckily my platforms are high enough so they don’t get wet in puddles. They are black and have a platform of ½” but Bobbie says her sister has two inch platforms. I was the second one at school to get them. Bobbie was the first. Not many people like them because they are new and people don’t like new things at first.

Monday April 17^th 1972

Back to school, worst luck. Theresa’s still going out with Mark, and Jenny has chucked Pete. Pete says he doesn’t care but her name is still all over his pencil case. I suppose he’ll cross it all out. I’ll have a look tomorrow. There’s a new English teacher for a few weeks who keeps scratching his bum! It makes us giggle and I hate that because sometimes I can’t stop. I like English but now I dread it. Think I’ll sit next to someone boring next time so they don’t make me laugh.

Tuesday April 18^th 1972

Wrote some poems in English.

Birds:

All birds are different

In a certain way

But nearly all are pretty

And mostly very gay

Summer:

Summer is here again

No bare looking trees

The warm summer sun

And honey-making bees.

I got 8/10 for them, but I scribbled them really quickly and thought they were terrible!

Journal Extract from 1972 - my 13th birthday in Paris

2007-05-04T03:17:00.000-07:00

I have changed some names to protect others' identities but this is an extract of my journal when i was just thirteen!

Sunday April 2nd 1972

Said goodbye to Paul, my brother. He's two years older than me. He was in his bedroom going through his birthday presents from 24^{th March.}. He shouted at me to get out as soon as I opened the door, but then remembered I’m going to France tomorrow so he talked a bit.

He’s got his hair longer now, he says he’ll never cut it again and keeps flicking it out of his eyes. All my friends fancy him when they come round. How can they? Puke. He is quite good looking, well very, i suppose, but he's my brother isn't he. He likes the bottle of Brut I bought him. Well that’s what he said anyway, but I know he got two more bottles of it so I’m not sure.

I sat on his bed for a minute while he let me look at his presents. He kept them in a shoe box. He had £11, a watch, all the Brut, and some fags. He calls them fags. I don’t know who bought them for him. He’s fifteen now and he smokes a lot, I can smell it sometimes. I asked him who but he told me I had to get out now so I got up. I stared at the poster on his wall, of a nearly naked girl sitting on a long motorbike. It says Easy Rider underneath. I asked Paul about it but he just laughed at me. I stood there and he got irritated and pushed me away. I nearly fell over his big black Doc Martin boots on the floor, and he seemed to find this funny.

At the door I reminded him that I’ll become a teenager in Paris. He said “Oh yeah. Oooh!” in his sarcastic, teasy way, but then he said, “Have a nice time then.” Which was nice, I thought.

Anyway when he’s out I sometimes go into his room. I don’t look at anything, I just sit on his bed and look out of his window because the view is different from mine. He looks over the car park and people come in and go out. There's more to see. I'm at the front with the shops, it's just people walking with bags.

Well, once I opened his wardrobe door. He’s got another naked girl on the inside of the door. I got scared though that he might know so I closed it again. I expect he goes into my room too when I’m out. My posters are wall to wall David Cassidy. He’s not naked though.

Monday April 3^rd 1972

PARIS!! Dad took me to school at 6.30 to catch the coach. I didn’t let him kiss me goodbye in front of my friends so he kind of touched me on the arm as he put the suitcase down with the others. I felt kind of guilty at this, but you don’t need to kiss goodbye really, you just know. I did wave goodbye from the coach though as we drove off. He looked kind of lonely and not like the other dads. They wore work clothes, jeans and things, and my dad wore a suit. I could have died. Well there was one other dad in a suit, but the jacket didn’t match the trousers so you couldn’t call it a suit really.

At Paris right now! We (Cathy and me) have a room two floors up. It’s got a balcony. I was scared to lean over at first but I do it now, and we can see all the French people walking by, below. One of the boys’ rooms is next door and we talk from the balconies sometimes. I don’t talk to Simon though, because he was horrible to me. It’s only because I didn’t want to go to his party last week so I don’t care. I didn’t want to go. Cathy and I unpacked. Had dinner. It was nice but I don’t know what it was. We had an ice lolly after which was strange. One of the teachers came to sit at our table halfway through and it spoilt the whole thing. She kept trying to make us talk to her and pretend she was interested in our answers but we knew she had been told to do it. Andrew was making faces at her from the side and Cathy and I had to hold our hands by our mouths to disguise the giggles and I began to feel sick.

Tuesday April 4^th 1972

Went to Ieffell Tower (? Not sure how to spell that) in the morning. I bought a little tower ornament for mum, a sign saying Paris, a bookmark for Dad and a tower-shaped bottle of green perfume for myself. It doesn't smell that nice, really. Cathy tried it, said it was like cat's pee and spilled some on the carpet which annoyed me.

Had an ice lolly for pudding again. The French like ice lollies. The waiter started to pour wine for us and Mr. Bull (teacher) stopped him. We are going to mention it to Miss Smith who is much younger than him and I think she will persuade Mr. Bull to let us. I saw the waiter wink at Ann. She always gets winked at. It’s because she flirts. Cathy and I are going to flirt with the waiter tomorrow and see if he winks at us.

I don’t miss home at all. I like going to new places and this feels very different. Even the smell is new. We were supposed to write a diary every day for school work but we said we lost them! The teachers looked cross and said they will buy some more for us tomorrow and we’ll have to catch up. Stephen said to them (with a serious face) that a dog ate his while he was getting on the coach. We couldn’t stop laughing.

Wednesday April 5^th 1972

Went to Versailles. Good. Stayed in in afternoon. I

In evening went to the fair. It was GREAT! Some French boys talked to us in English. We said a few things in French and they laughed so we didn’t say much more. They came on some rides with us though and paid for us. One of them gave me his address in Paris and told me to write to him but he wore really tight trousers with big checks on them which I didn’t like so I’ve thrown the address away now.

We go on the Metro to get to the fair. It’s very fast. Cathy and I are in this hotel place but some of the classes are in private homes staying with families. I’d hate that. I don’t feel like a little girl being in the hotel but I would with a French mother fussing all the time.

Thursday April 6^th 1972 – My birthday! 13!

I’m a teenager! Got a bracelet from David. I was very surprised because he’s not my boyfriend or anything and he said he bought it at the Eiffel Tower. Cathy said he likes me, but I don’t know, he never sits next to me at school. Got cards from Mum, Dad and Nan.

Went to the Louvre today and saw the Mona Lisa painting. I loved it, but it’s much smaller than I thought and she’s not very beautiful. I thought she would be. There was a red rope in front of it which was annoying because I wanted to get closer to see the paint. I wouldn’t have touched it.

Went to the zoo in the afternoon. On the coach we had a long roll of bread with chicken in for a packed lunch. On the radio we heard David Cassidy which made my day and everyone looked at me. I went red and they all sang Happy Birthday.

Went to fair again in the evening. Saw the same boys and the boy who gave me his address looked better this time, although he kept sniffing and that got on my nerves. Maybe I should have kept his address. I could ask him again next time I suppose and just say I lost it. The French boys sang happy birthday in French to me (they all smoke by the way!) because everyone told them it was my birthday but I was just embarrassed. They walked back to the hotel with us this time so they know where we are now and kept saying Tomorrow Here Tomorrow Here to us so I don’t know if they will come to the hotel tomorrow. I think we are out for the day anyway.

Most popular song – Without You by Nillson. It’s okay but it goes on too long.

Friday April 7^th 1972

Went on boat trip along the Seine. It was stuffy inside the boat but it was fun. Then we went to Notre Dame and packed our suitcases in the evening. Cathy kept taking my best pen and hiding it so she got on my nerves. I didn’t say anything to her while we packed. She’s a bit silly.

Just as we were going to bed there was shouting outside. When we looked from the balcony, we saw the French boys in the street below. We both had our pyjamas on so we put a dressing gown on and went out. We laughed a lot but we couldn’t hear them very well. They signalled for us to come down but of course we couldn’t. We wrote on a postcard, our names and English addresses and threw it down to them. They blew kisses back to us but we went inside then because the boys next door heard and came out onto their balcony and started shouting rude things to the French boys. Our boys seem very young and silly compared to the French ones, who look more like young men, and they don’t mind being romantic in front of their friends. In fact, they love it. Our boys think they look stupid if they are romantic.

Went to bed at 11.30. I couldn’t sleep very well so I’m writing this at two o/c.

Saturday April 8^th 1972

End of Paris Trip. Got up at ¼ past 4. Got home at 10 o/c and gave out presents. Also got Dad an ashtray and key ring. Got mum a charm for her bracelet (she likes them a lot. Dad always gets them for her). Got Paul a cigarette lighter, blue and white with Paris written on it. For Nan, I got a glass goldfish. For my cousin Louise I got a toy dog. She’ll like that because she’s only two and she wouldn’t know where Paris was if I’d got something with Paris on it. For myself I bought a bracelet so I’ve got two now. Got £2.25 left in my bank book.

Sunday April 9^th 1972

Slept in late, did my washing then packed again to go to Maggie’s tonight. I like staying at my cousin’s, she is good fun and her husband is funny and her little girl Louise is so sweet and I take care of her. I’m tired but there’s lots to do today and I haven’t even had time to tell everyone about France. I’ll bore them about it when I get back from Maggie’s and my photos will be ready by then too, so I’ll sit them all down in the sitting room and make them look at them.

Journal extract one year ago - almost

2007-05-03T02:55:00.000-07:00

Single after five years and where to begin? I've had a few months now not going out with anyone, not even thinking about starting again, just being myself. Going to the pub, chatting to people, politely refusing - quite a few i might say! - dates. I just wanted to exist alone for a while. Just me. Now i'm venturing out a bit more. Not with another man, that’s for sure, no not interested. I’m free! I’ll go further now, explore, just in a friendly way, see what happens. Maybe go out with the girls this Saturday night. Start gently, though, nothing too racy.

Back at home, the grass needs cutting, the house needs a clean and writing my novel is getting to be a bit of a drag. The domestic chores list at home is not conducive to inspiration and freshness of word. So, I bring my trusty laptop out with me for the day.

Browsing the shops I am tempted but only mentally buy a great dress for £145 and a jacket for £270 at Cousins of Cheltenham, some gorgeous wedges at Herrings and a holiday break at Going Places.

At my chosen spot in The Residence, in the Montpellier area of Cheltenham, dotted tables accommodate trendies and ladies-who-lunch alike; the place is packed. Outside the sun beating down on the Promenade pavement bathes everything in a sea of bright light bouncing off the line of parked Mercedes and BMWs and the spirits lift.

It’s the beginning of June and The Cheltenham Set are out to play. Crisp linen trousers with low-slung belts support tiny tops. Make-up is perfect and not a hair is out of place and that’s just the men. Top accessory currently seems to be the oversized handbag. Big is beautiful with myriad pockets and buckles, in bright colours.

Two others are here alone; a lady in shift dress and heels and two tables along from me a rather interesting looking man, yes he has a nice smile – I glance behind me in case there’s a beautiful blonde sitting there receiving it but no, so I return it - in jeans and a white, creased linen shirt reminiscent of crumpled sheets…no stop that, steady…slowly, remember. Not interested anyway, I wanted a break from men! We all sit punching into our keyboards and we nod a brief greeting.

Punters in early twenties breeze in shattering the moment, flip-flopped to greet friends with shrieks and hugs.

“Ooh! How lovely to see you,” squeals one young lady, around eighteen, far too loud and with hips to die for. Her cut off jeans end just below the knee where finely toned, tanned calves shine newly waxed.

“Let’s sit outside.”

The lads all follow her clad in skater shorts, so low they border on the obscene, showing their Calvin Klein underpants, with clashing shirts. Another table emits a conversation, mostly about the Robins’ promotion to Division 1, in which intonation seems to have lost its way. Inflection distorts each statement into a question where everything goes up at the end?

I nibble on Mixed Olives & Breads with balsamic and olive oil glaze at £4.95 – this I can recommend though a little too much bread for me - and sip my coke as I watch various people join together, their sole reason for meeting seemingly so they can whip out their mobiles and text someone else. Silence reigns while their fingers tap furiously in unison. Maybe they’re even texting each other. Has the art of conversation died to this extent?

Not for the ladies-who-lunch who, in their sixties, possibly even seventies, discuss the world at large and mutual acquaintances. They’re glammed up to the hilt in soft cottons and silks and lilting summer hats. They eat delicately their summer salad, every so often wincing at the shrieks of the young.

An hour later just as I have a mouthful of bread, interesting man gets up. He comes over. Struggling to chew, speak and swallow at the same time and catching crumbs with my hand, I begin to chat to him. He takes a seat with me. The crumpled sheet he’s wearing as a shirt reveals a tan. Twenty minutes later, I have his number and a dinner date for Saturday. Just enough time to get my hair done, a wax and I think I’ll just pop back to those shops for some new gear. Not a bad morning’s work!

Saturday Night

2007-05-01T06:24:00.000-07:00

Oh well, yes, Monica, i know... i DID say i was staying in, doing nothing much in particular on Saturday night, washing my hair, cleaning, blah blah, it's true. You may have noticed though, my sudden departure around midnight, quite rudely in fact, from our conversation without explanation. I apologise for that and say, simply, I had a surprise visitor. dot dot dot. I'd thought bf was working but no!... well... you know how it is... forgive me? Yes in case you're wondering, the shoes kill. Not really made for walking...

Coffee Break - Book Review by Lynn 'Last Family in England' by Matt Haig

2007-04-23T08:26:00.000-07:00

Book Review – Last Family In England by Matt Haig (Vintage Random House £6.99)

Prince is attractive, funny, sincere, loyal, offering unconditional love. He’s also a dog. A Labrador to be exact. Leeds author Matt Haig writes the dog into the Hunter family to whom Prince pledges undying allegiance, as set down by The Pact; a set of rules to which all Labradors must adhere and which aim to protect The Family at all costs. Haig has penned a more clever tale than might first appear, narrated by the protagonist canine himself, in which much literary reference is to be found – “Humans fuck you up,” said Falstaff, a Springer Spaniel, “they may not mean to, but they do.” Phillip Larkin and Shakespeare thread their way through this different and thought-provoking novel which shows a serious theme in the decline of the British family at the same time an insight to the possible psyche of the dog.

Prince observes with growing alarm his family’s gradual downfall from the privileged but frustrating position of most family dogs, whose lives consist of laying by the fire listening to the familial fun and fights around them of the humans unaware of their deep intelligence. Touching and laugh-out-loud in turn, the story sees teenagers’ wild drug-filled parties through the floor-level viewpoint of Prince, illicit affairs and flirtations of the Father and Mother, even murders which the poor Labrador seems powerless to prevent. However, running parallel to the human scene is the canine community centred around the local park. Here we meet delightful and dangerous breeds represented in the characters of the old Labrador guru Henry and Irish Wolfhound Joyce who discuss each others’ problems and what guidance The Pact might offer to Prince, who is determined to save the plight of his Family.

It’s quite a feat, that Haig has managed, to encapsulate so accurately the traits and humour in the escapades of each breed as they, according to The Pact, must avoid ‘sniffing for pleasure’ and who dig the dirt beyond all reasonable restraint for debris left by humans who come into the park at night to ‘drink and smoke and fuck and eat and drug and puke’. Interpret as much as you want to between the lines of this excellent book, suitable for adults and teenagers alike, it’s a compelling read, a must on your shopping list.

Meme

2007-04-22T04:19:00.000-07:00

Okay i've been persuaded by Dive to put this meme on here. As he says, what else are you going to do on a Sunday? Well i could answer that, but it'll only take ten mins to do this so why not. Go on, fill it in yourself, you know you want to.

1. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up?

No-one.

2. You can flip a switch that will wipe any band or musical artist out of existence. Which one will it be?

Abba

3. Who would you really like to just punch in the face?

Ex-husband, though it would hurt my sons to see it, so i wouldn't, only for that reason.

4. What is your favourite cheese?

St. Agur

5. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your immediate disposal. What kind will you make?

Very good, dry lean ham on white.

6. You, Elvis and Princess Diana (yeah, I know they both smell a bit now but you'd still give 'em one; right?) are in a dog sled, fleeing across the Siberian wastes with wolves in hot pursuit. The wolves are catching up fast. Who would you throw out to gain speed and why?

Elvis; he took his own life. Diana had hers taken.

7. You have the opportunity to sleep with the movie celebrity of your choice. We are talking no-strings-attached sex and it can only happen once. Who is the lucky celebrity of your choice?

Carrie's boyfriend - the furniture maker, can't recall his name, from Sex and the City

8. You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. Who do you pick?

Rob Thomas

9. Now that you’ve slept with two different people in a row, you seem to be having an excellent day because you just came across a hundred-dollar bill on the sidewalk. Holy shit, a hundred bucks! How are you gonna spend it?

bills

10. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?

Paris

11. Upon arrival to the aforementioned location, you get off the plane and discover another hundred-dollar bill. Now that you are in the new location, what are you gonna do?

Send it home for bills.

12. Your dream date. Who, where and why?

My boyfriend. Sandy beach. We both need it.

13. An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. It is…?

Jack Daniels. For him.

14. Okay; girls and gay guys stand over here; guys and lesbians over there (I know and love my readership) …
Girls and gay guys first: You're in bed with Marilyn Monroe, Doris Day and Salma Hayek. Who's gonna be the lucky girl? (you're only allowed one).
And similarly, guys and lesbians: You're in bed with Cary Grant, Paul Newman and Johnny Depp. Who's gonna be the lucky guy? (again, you're only allowed one).
Give your reasons.

Salma. No.

15. Rufus appears out of nowhere with a time-travelling phone booth. You can go anytime in the PAST. What time are you travelling to and what are you going to do when you get there?

Victorian England with enough cash though.

16. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place?

Loyalty & truth to reign

17. You have been given the opportunity to create the half-hour TV show of your own design. What is it called and what’s the premise?

The Lynn Chat Show. speaks for itself.

18. What is your favorite curse word?

Arseholes.

19. You have a choice of two doors, one of which you MUST go through; the first leads to a roomful of spiders, the second to a roomful of clowns. Which is it to be?
Clowns

20. Your house is on fire! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object (that's "inanimate" … leave your kids to burn; you know you want to). So what’s the item?

Laptop

21. One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren’t really doing anything, they’re just standing around your bed. What do you do?

Watch.

22. You have George W. Bush and Osama bin Laden locked in a small room together. It's airtight so both the fuckers are gonna suffocate anyway, but what amusing weapon do you give them to make it more entertaining?

Camera

23. The Angel of Death has descended upon you. Fortunately, the Angel of Death is pretty cool and in a good mood, and it offers you a half-hour to do whatever you want before you bite it. Whatcha gonna do in that half-hour?
Be with my sons and boyfriend

24. Truthfully, what underwear are you currently wearing?

Small, black lace with red ribbon ties at the sides.

25. You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What’s it gonna be?

Life-long health for all.

26. You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again?

Picking up my three sons when they were small for cuddles

27. Moses trips on his robe and drops the stone tablets. Commandment number eleven is broken off. He leaves it there as his back is killing him. What does it say?

"Thou shalt not believe everything you read"

28.You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

Except that i now have my sons, their father, largely.

29. Rufus reappears with the time machine and a custard pie. Who's gonna get it?

Girl bullies at school

30. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-travelling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But you can move to anywhere else in the world! What country are you going to live in now?

France

31. What part of your body would you change (no, you are NOT perfect; you gotta answer this one) and why?
Tummy. Flat again please.

32. You have been eternally banned from every single bar in the world except for ONE. Which one is it gonna be?

The Beckford Inn, Gloucestershire.

33. What's the last thing you ate?
Frosties cereal

34. Hopefully you didn’t mention this in the super-powers question…. If you did, then we’ll just expand on that. Suddenly, you have gained the ability to float. Who are you going to show this to first?

Anyone.

35. The constant absorption of magical moonbeams mixed with the radioactive vegetables you consumed earlier has given you the ability to resurrect the dead celebrity of your choice. So which celebrity will you bring back to life?

Diana. Delivered immediately to her sons.

36. The Celestial Gates of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, once again Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person, etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back?

My grandmother, Reece.

37. What’s your theme song?

I will survive.

38 When did you last have sex?

Three days ago

39. Buffy, Willow or Xander?

Who?

40. Who’s up next?

You.

Blokes' Joke

2007-04-08T10:23:00.000-07:00

Subject: Wedding Test

I was a very happy person. My wonderful girlfriend and I had been dating for

over a year, and so we decided to get married. There was only one little

thing bothering me; her beautiful younger sister.My prospective

sister-in-law was twenty-two, wore very tight mini-skirts, and generally was

bra-less. She would regularly bend down when she was near me, and I always

got more than a glimpse of her private parts. It had to be deliberate. She never did it

when she was near anyone else.

One day her "little" sister called and asked me to come over to check the

wedding invitations. She was alone when I arrived, and she whispered to me

that she had feelings and desires for me that she couldn't overcome.

She told me that she wanted to make love to me just once before

I got married and committed my life to her sister. Well, I was in total

shock, and couldn't say a word. She said, "I'm going upstairs to my bedroom,

and if you want one last wild fling, just come up and get me." I was stunned

and frozen in shock as I watched her go up the stairs.

When she reached the top she pulled off her panties and threw them down

stairs at me. I stood there for a moment, then turned and made a beeline

straight to the front door. I opened the door and headed straight towards my

car. Lo and behold, my entire future family was standing outside, all

clapping! With tears in his eyes, my father-in-law hugged me and said, "We

are very happy that you have passed our little test. We couldn't ask for a

better man for our daughter.

Welcome to the family!"

And the moral of this story is:

Always keep your condoms in your car.

Coffee Break Fiction - Last Moments by Lynn Ede - a Tennessee tale

2007-03-26T04:39:00.000-07:00

Jed’s gun was trained expertly on me. As I moved, he indicated with the end of it that I was to get into the lobby area, kinda like the inner passage.

I did.

He at once put the gun down and, now out of view of the others, pulled me to him finally, squashin’ ma poor breasts against him, holdin' me under my elbows so i couldn't move. He demanded my devotion.

I loved his lips pressin' hard against mine, wasn't nothin' dirty or all, was just kinda romantic. I’ll never forget that feelin’. I swear my whole existence was drawn into his at that moment; I ached as he drew life from within me.

I gave myself completely, spirit and soul in those few seconds to Jed and he took me gladly, devourin' me while he could. I was rightly owned now, just by that one kiss in that courtroom I could tell.

“Jed?” an anxious male voice called from the main room, “…’you doin’ back there? You got her?”

Pickin’ up the gun again and pointin’ it straight at my heart, he stepped out without a word gone between us and pushed me out in front.

“I got her.” Jed called back in a low, even voice. “I got ‘er alright.”

We took our seats in the old wooden hick town courthouse. My eyes followed the veranda to the landing strip where we played as kids and I gazed at the blue sky beyond.

Gazed into the blue.

Blue as the official, stern, sing-song words rang in and out of the background, both in my head and in the air.

“…State of Tennessee… guilty………..until dead.” called the town clerk.

Through the doorway I saw Bess, my Bess.

Bess, sittin’ there, strapped down at the wrists, her large frame strainin', her dark skin sweatin’. As our eyes met, she seemed to bear strength anew from the love in the air between us and, like in one o’ those slow motion pictures, she was all at once breakin’ free o’ those useless, leather strips and strugglin’ to get to me.

I watched, fascinated, as her rolls of fat wobbled, those huge rolls which we’d call hills and chuckle about, which comforted me as a tiny child, once covered in a pinafore, now; they had some kinda blue jerkin hangin’ over.

Well, she just didn’t like blue.

No.

She didn’t like it.

Though my mind was calm, the courthouse was up in mayhem. Guards shoutin’, hollerin’ and Jed, to my side, lookin’ alarmed around him, confused. What to do, he wasn’t sure, I could tell.

Arms reachin’ out, she stumbled towards me with fallin’ momentum as the shot cut the air from noise to scared women’s gasps in the crowd and she fell into the chair next to me, a tired smile worn determinedly on her face.

I stopped the guard’s arm as he went to get her.

He couldn’t have my Bess.

“Let her stay,” I told him, firm, “aint nothin’ she can do now. Let her stay comfortable here.”

She leant her head heavy on ma shoulder, looked into my eyes and asked me,

“It’s gonna happen now, aint it, child?”

“Yeah,” I soothed, noddin’ and strokin’ her hair as she once had mine, “it’s gonna happen.”

Then, barely a breath later, she was gone.

Bess. Gone.

“State o’ Tennessee… guilty…. until dead.” rang out those loud words from the clerk again with empty echoes inside my brain.

Me.

It was me now.

My time.

My moments.

They were sayin’ my name.

I’d be goin’ with Bess.

More guards appeared in front of me as Bess’ head lolled at peace to one side. I stroked my finger over her eyes to close ‘em so’s, I told myself, she couldn’t see what’d happen next.

It was Jed who took my arm and stood me at the back of the wall, no messin’.

I stood.

Other guards looked at him kinda puzzled and I looked at Bess, back there on the chair.

Well, I tell ya, it was all over in a flash; Jed, he lifted in a second his automatic weapon and one by one, cool as ya like, shot all the guards afore they knew what hit ‘em. Fell to the ground like hunted herd they did. Still soldiers, cut down in prime.

As I stood there, my hands over my ears and eyes disbelievin’, he swung from left to right – he had his plan - wipin’ out with the noise of death the whole three lines of courtroom attendants from our little town.

Snuffin’ the lives of people we knew, had grown with, schooled with. All dropped their heads in their seats in a matter of moments, final moments renderin’ ‘em lifeless like discarded dolls.

I knew then life would be difficult for us always.

Starin’ at the spectacle, I was.

Starin.

Starin’ at the gone folk.

I thought to myself, quiet and resigned, stilled by the shock,

“can be no justice in all the world for this…however…we done what we done now.”

Just the two of us left in that silence so loud, it was, it was fair burstin’ my temples, Jed took my hand as I shook my head in wonderment from side to side, lookin’.

Jus’ lookin’.

Lookin’ at ‘em.

I can see ‘em now.

Clear as yesterday.

“We get us out to the strip,” he ordered, in a loud voice making me start, “we’ll be up in th’ air in five minutes. Come on, Pearl!”

Pullin’ my arm so it hurt, he broke through the door in a rush into the outside again, hot and dusty as it was on our skin, takin’ away my breath as my obedient feet walked, one in front of th’ other into the blue, those dry balls o’ bush rollin’ by us both.

“Run!” Jed told me, diggin’ me in the back.

I ran.

We ran, wind rushin’ through my hair, the long, blonde hair he loved so much, that’s only thing he remembers, he says.

We ran.

Raaaaaan.

Ran like the wind.

Feeding the Sheep in Gloucestershire

2007-03-24T16:07:00.001-07:00

More pictures of the lovely lambs from Rudgeway Farm at Tredington, Gloucestershire. See Cheltenham blog for original post.

Farmers John (right) & Richard (left) Harvey

Book Review by Lynn Ede - The Make-up Girl by Andrea Semple

2007-03-23T08:41:00.000-07:00

Book Review by Lynn – The Make-Up Girl by Andrea Semple (Piatkus, paperback, £6.99)

Oh what a tangled web Leeds author Andrea Semple weaves within the character of Faith, a mere department store make-up sales assistant; a position not worthy of admitting to her mother who has exacting expectations of her daughter. Under pressure, she dreams up an existence of the perfect boyfriend, Adam, in order to placate said mother, who constantly nags her to settle down.

Practising to deceive does not, however, sit well upon the hapless Faith who stumbles in this very contemporary chic lit extravaganza from yarn to yarn, inventing a top Leeds job for herself in the process.

Semple tackles laugh-a-minute humour with ease, as we witness Faith becoming a horrified and less than useless birth partner to her screaming friend Alice – ‘you want kids to have safe sex? Take a picture of this woman right now…’, yet she manages to cover an attempted rape scene with the sensitivity and raw fear it deserves.

With Faith’s lies snowballing around her, and inadequacy closing in in the form of a perfectly gorgeous and successful sister, she finds herself in the redeeming position of saving the life of a drop-out acquaintance from the building where she lives.

The impending doom-filled panic of the unavoidable introduction of the fictitious Adam to her demanding mother keeps the pages turning with mounting dread and intrigue as to how she can possibly carry this off. A great read for Leeds UK residents and in fact anyone who has experience of mothers or men. There is a little bit of Faith in all of us after all.

Adam Regis 15 murdered in London

2007-03-22T04:29:00.000-07:00

Adam Regis, a 15 year old boy from London with everything to live for, was senselessly killed recently in London. Such a young life taken. Ham of London daily photo pays tribute to him, hoping that his life and personality will be remembered and the issue of rising crime be addressed. Please leave your comments here

Blogging and, worse, explaining it

2007-03-20T07:01:00.000-07:00

They: "A blog, what's a blog?"

I'm a bit sick of this response when i ask someone if i can take their photo for my blog. Is it just the UK that's a bit ignorant of the term, i wonder. The French seem to be blogging in their millions and America, well, they probably claim to have invented it along with everything else in the world. Are we, the British public, slow at picking up the concept or are we just... slow?

If you search for who invented the blog you invariably get some geek who's musing with the same question then answering it himself with a smug sentence "well, actually it was me." Yeah right. I don't know where it started or when but it seems to be a great way for people of all sorts to express opinion, rant or display, so who am i to argue.

A particular favourite blogger of mine and recent winner of the much famed 'mystery photo' competition on my Cheltenham blog is Dive. He's quite a writer, fluid and opinionated in the extreme (his rants are well known, even treasured by his growing and dedicated readership) and quite charming with an equally charming brother and mother, also bloggers. Dive will inform you of details such as how your phone may be bugged, how to appreciate guitars and will even guide you by the hand through the streets of London. A talented architect, he'll introduce you occasionally to the world of THOSE who share the office, by habit alone, not naming names, describing the world of his work and his 'humbug' unleashed hatred of Christmas. I recommend you to visit.

Explaining the word 'blog' to the uninitiated, though, seems to be somewhat of a nightmare for me. Maybe i should ask request tips from the Daily Photo King, Eric. He'll know.

So, i've been through countless situations on the street when all i want is a shot and shoot off. Here's how it usually goes.

Me: "Well, it's short for web log."

They: "Web... log.... And what's that?"

Me: "Er, it's a sort of online diary."

They, after pondering this for an everlasting minute: "Why do you want me in YOUR diary, then?"

Me, shifting from foot to foot: "Well. It's not exactly my diary, i was just explaining what a blog is, generically."

They: "So what's on yours then?"

Me, slowly losing the will to live: "Photos. Mainly."

They, looking for all the world like they're vaguely interested: "Of what?"

Me, exasperated but still polite: "Of you. If you'll let me. Here's my card. You can see it."

They: "Oh! I can see it? What, see your diary?"

Me: "Well, it's not exactly my diary, as i said... it's..."

They: "A blog!"

Me with Eureka expression: "Yes! So... may i take your photo?"

They: "I don't know... sounds a bit dodgy i think, do you put my name on there, i mean there are all sorts of weirdos aren't there?"

Me, sighing. So close: "Well, i suppose sometimes, yes, but i don't have to put your name..."

They: "Would i be recognised, then?"

Me: "I doubt it. Unless you tell people you're on there, it's unlikely someone will just... find you on there AND meet you on the street the next day... it's most improbable."

They, greeting their partner who's just arrived on the scene: "This lady wants to take my picture."

Partner: "What for?"

Me, just shoot me now and get it over: "A blog."

Partner: "A what?"

Me: "A... it's... (lightbulb inspiration) ... a website. Where i upload a different photo every day. You looked so interesting, doing that, i just thought..."

They: "Oh, a website!! Okay then, great. How do you want us, like this, smiling? (no, just do what you were doing before please God)"

Me: "Yes. Great. Thanks." Snap.

They, spinning in panic on their heels just as they walk off, pointing a finger: "You won't let any weirdos see it, though, will you?"

Me, tight-lipped smile that says yes i have total control over the internet: "No. No i won't."

Visual DNA

2007-03-13T13:10:00.000-07:00

Read my VisualDNA™ Get your own VisualDNA™

Got this idea from Utsav. Fun; try it!

You and Me by Lynn - Coffee Break Fiction

2007-03-11T11:35:00.000-07:00

The silence, it's loud, voiced

Objections of the crowd, they're

Cynical, cyclical, round and elliptical

Well meant advice but we have no choice

We're free and at ease, we don't really care

I can't quite believe it, but thank God you're there

You love me, take care of me, catching my falls

We work on our empty house, building the walls

Coupling, teaming, planning, scheming

Sharing, caring, releasing and cleaning

Us, we, it's you and me

We dare not hope, but must believe

My world reduces without you

I'm solely, wholly, completely true

And I will see you soon my love,

I will see you soon

I need to be near you, wrapped in our world

Take me, transport me, safe, next to you curled

Living, existing, to be is our right

There we have decadence, shameless Delight

We can reinvent, and make our escape,

Remould ourselves, analyse, cast a new shape. Or

Will they win in the end, the incredulous crowd?

Shouting their objections, louder than loud?

No; us, we, it's you and me

We're right and meant to be

Close eyes and back you fall

I will catch you as you call

And I will see you soon my love

I will see you soon

You take up infinite space in my head

But without you an emptiness, a void in my bed

We say to each other to hold in our dreams

Because it all really is, just as it seems

The closeness we have, the intimate feel

It's true, full of meaning, valid, honest, it's real

Distance or crowd, silence or loud

Cannot be the reason for our falling down

It's us, we, it's you and me

Faith, we have faith, and we'll always be

We must close our ears and open our eyes

Look to each other, tie tightly those ties

And I shall see you soon, my love

I shall see you soon

I shall see you soon, my love

I shall see you soon

Theatre Review - Revelations by Stan Won't Dance

2007-03-05T14:41:00.000-08:00

Now; normally i get to write theatre and book reviews of the run-of-the-mill variety. Tedious books some of them and often old lady plays it's hard to keep your eyes open to and the like, you know the sort of thing. The play i had to review below, however, was quite, quite different. Thought you might like to know about it; it's a bit late as the tour is now finished - sorry about that - but you never know if they may run it again. Turned out to be one of the best performances i've ever seen!

---------------------------------------

Take your seats at this performance and you’re in for a treat. Tired of choosing between theatre tickets for farce, thriller or thespian? Here’s your alternative and it’s not to be missed.

Delight in getting an instant earful and sexual eye-opener in a production of ‘Revelations’ by London’s South Bank Centre based dance group Sam Won’t Dance on their current tour. You get a feel-up of the flavour as soon as you wriggle excitedly into your seat; one of the first lines to colour the air was ‘loosen your drawers, open your legs and reap the benefit of live entertainment. This has to be obscene to be believed.’

Intense physical theatre is the medium, aerial choreography the vehicle as the performance explores the sex lives of an ordinary couple journeying through life. We are shown also the effects of terrorism, violence, religion and relationships on the human condition.

West-End-musical atmosphere surrounds the expertise of dancers playing good & evil spirits playing on the conscience.

The players admirably scale a cage-like, octagonal set within which is a domestic setting, just like ours indoors. Well, almost. Oh, to be rogered senseless up against my dishwasher as the female character is in Revelations, I sighed. My man and I broke three plates and one glass that night. Worth every smithereen.

Sexual scenes in this explosive show - and there are many - are graphic, the language uncensored. Interesting themes play out as talented movers take their positions - oral, rear entry, missionary, all done with strength of limb and grace of ease as sexy, bestockinged girls, particularly the main female, are leered at, entered, pulled, pushed and, well, given nothing short of a thorough seeing to by the muscle-bound main male character in his simple quest to seemingly be told he was loved. Form an orderly queue, ladies. And gentlemen, actually.

He, tantalisingly, is costumed in garb of everyday wear concealing his undoubtedly powerful, jaw-dropping body. Playing the male of the species he, tortured by guilt and desire, just can’t keep it in his pants. No surprises there, then. Themes of deceit, physical power, jealousy and lust are explored and the audiences are lapping it up.

The final act held the crowd spellbound as the protagonist rammed home his unleashed, tortured beast spilling with passion once again into his partner so violently that it went from an exciting, sexy good, hard fuck to an unexpected, house-silencing result of murder.

The company deservedly received roaring, rapturous applause in Tewkesbury’s The Roses Theatre and charmingly dated wolf whistles as the curtain fell on what should be a must for all to attend as both an intellectual trek through life’s ups and downs and an unashamedly saucy night out. Prolonged clapping from teens to wrinklies filled the house.

So erotically charged was the partially-clothed dance, some will surely have exchanged the normal post theatre night-cap for a knee-trembling quickie up against the theatre wall. Of course, I couldn’t possibly comment.

In short, it was an arty turn-on; a cultural display of innovative British theatre at its best. Go forth and multiply those audiences.

Words: Lynn

Revelations by Stan Won’t Dance is no longer on tour in the UK but if they resume the tour, don't miss it!

The Last Word - Coffee Break short fiction by Lynn Ede

2007-02-28T02:55:00.000-08:00

"Ready yet?" Ted Chapman called loudly and rudely from his office.

Roz swore under her breath and fixed the paper clip to the letter and envelope, which had been neatly typed by her and placed it in the leather folder he always insisted upon, to be taken in to him to sign.

"Yes, I've just finished."

She called, standing up from her chair. Tucking the chair carefully under her desk, she carried the folder in.

Ted Chapman was sitting at his desk with one foot up as always. One hand flicked lazily through the latest copy of his subscription to National Geographic magazine.

"About time, too. Let's see." he said, peering over his bi-focals.

He grabbed the leather roughly from her hand and cast her a disdainful look. He signed one letter after another, occasionally reading through them, understanding little, she suspected – she always composed for him - and scrawling something unintelligible at the bottom.

"What's this about?" he demanded, flicking one of the letters as he sometimes did, making a small indentation on the otherwise pristine sheet. She would have to re-type that one now.

"It's to Dobsons," she started, but he interrupted.

"I can see that," he snapped, "I'm not an imbecile."

Really, she thought.

"Well," she went on, "this letter is to placate them after the legal action you wanted me to take against them. If you remember, they then supplied us with information that proved that in fact, you had no case…"

"Yes, yes. Enough of that." he cut her short. "I remember now. I recall telling you to write this letter now."

As you like, she thought quietly. Frankly, I no longer care. I shall soon be out of this.

Signing the last, he handed the file back to her.

"Get those off tonight, they're all urgent."he barked.

They always are. Thank you might be good. She turned as he once again started to flick the glossy pages and light a cigarette. The amount of free time he had irritated Roz to a point of distraction. Most places now did not even employ secretaries, rather, they prepared their own correspondence at the computer. Such 'machines' as Chapman called them, would not be seen in here. How she hated working here, but it had been the only place she had managed to secure her indispensable position and to be able to accumulate her savings. It might not have been so unpalatable, had he been a more pleasant man to work for.

Chapman was a self-made man. At least, this is how he was reported, perceived and now believed himself to be. Yes, he had achieved something, in building his business, but general intelligence and academia were not his strong points. Thus, he had employed Roz, a woman of intellect and ability. Roz had been his secretary for nine years now. When she said the words nine years to herself, she could scarcely believe she had been able to stand it. There had been one thing and one alone which had kept her going. It was money. Ted Chapman paid her reasonably well since he knew he was clueless without her, but on top of her salary, she was able to command another fee, which almost equalled her basic income. This fee was for writing his speeches.

His success in his field necessitated his frequent attendance at dinners, presentations and award ceremonies, of which he had won many. However, as anyone knows, the success of such a speech relies on the desired information being subtly imparted amongst clever anecdote and humour. This is where Roz came in; indeed she was a master of the written word. Consequently, for these nine years she had attended these ceremonies, laughed at her own jokes, pretended to marvel at the wit and experience of her superior, along with the rest of the audience. Her face had ached with false smiles so lengthily maintained, and her fists had clenched as he took the inevitable, complimentary following remarks with ease and modesty. It had been her mind, her words, her ability that had achieved the longevity of success which he now enjoyed. She consoled herself only with her growing bank balance. She had a goal in mind, and she positively glowed as she pulled an envelope out of her bag at lunchtime whilst eating her cheese sandwich.

It had arrived this morning, and she had cursorily read it over a coffee before hurriedly leaving home at seven thirty. Chapman always insisted she start at eight. She unfolded again the crisp letter now, its white and contemporary headed paper gleaming with the name of the cruise liner at the top, together with a computerised image of the luxury ship she had booked. She scanned the words of the text, confirming her year-long trip. It included many stops around the world, a series of mini holidays. She would be sightseeing in New York, shopping at the best houses of couture, saw herself uncharacteristically dancing in a grass skirt in Honolulu and straining to understand the stretched vowels of the New Zealanders and Australians. She closed her eyes tightly, clutching the sheet to her chest and let her mind wander with a deeply happy smile on her face.

"Surely your lunch hour is finished now, Miss Lynch."

Roz jumped. It was Chapman, standing in front of her desk, frowning and tapping his cigarette packet repeatedly on the palm of his hand.

"Right, yes." she said, for once leaving out an apology.

"What's that you were reading?" he persisted.

She looked down at her passport out of here.

"It's … it's personal." She replied.

"Not on my time, it isn't." he said and went to snatch it away.

Roz mustered her courage and held on to her private correspondence tightly, pulling just as hard as he did.

"No, you can't read it," she told him. "it is personal."

She was impressed at her own assertiveness. Possibly, well in fact definitely, the first time she had ever shown any. Finally he let go.

"Back to work." was all he said, furiously flushing red and disappearing into his room again. Roz heaved a sigh of relief and hid the letter back in her bag. Tomorrow she would not even be here. Strictly, she should give him notice but planned instead to leave this evening after his speech and just not turn up. She had moved house recently, into rented accommodation in preparation for her trip, and had not informed him of her new address, so he would not find her. Some might find it surprising that she would bother even to attend this last evening speech of his, but this would be the best speech ever, and she was not going to miss it for the world.

"Speech?" He said, holding out his hand as they left the office together, bound for the plush hotel in the centre of town.

She handed him the smaller leather folder which she always gave him before such events, having written her clever words which yet again would come out of his mouth and bring forth endless praise for himself. He started to walk quickly, obviously not intending to read it as usual. All of a sudden, she stopped. He stopped too and looked at her quizzically.

"I just … need to go back in." she said. "To my desk. I left the last part of the speech there."

Amidst much cursing and blame, he unlocked the door again for her and waited outside, puffing away on his death stick.

In a flash, she retrieved a blank sheet, all but one line on it, from her drawer, then took a clutch of pages from the speech, dropping them into the waste basket. Inserting the new barely blank sheet in, she closed the folder and rejoined him, apologising.

Ted Chapman knew how important this speech was, thank God the silly woman had remembered whatever the missing part was at the last moment, he thought, as he stepped up to the podium.

Reading steadily from Roz' first page, all was going well. Polite attendance turned to titters at amusing anecdotes, and then, as usual, progressed to most welcome laughs as he delivered Roz' witty one-liners.

Coming to the end of the first page, he, smiling confidently, flipped it over, to find that his smile faded rapidly as he looked down. He felt beads of sweat and the blood drain from his face as confusion turned to sheer panic whilst he read the only line to appear on this page only partly into the speech, he still had fifteen minutes to go! It was in hand-written script.

…I quit, you miserable bastard. You're on your own now, Chapman. Good luck! I’m listening… What are you going to say? …. Roz.

Watching him madly shuffling through the remaining papers for the rest of his speech and finding only blank pages, Roz met his incredulous gaze happily with her usual, efficient, encouraging smile. Watching his timely demise with satisfaction and before he could reach her through the tables, she cruised quietly out of the room.

Coffee Break Fiction - The Questionable Plight of Man by Lynn Ede

2007-02-27T01:16:00.000-08:00

Why does she ask? Questioning me…

Where I’ve been, what I’ve done, With whom,

I think she should trust me, let me do my thing

Give me some space, give me some room

What is there without trust?

I tell her all the time

She should just believe me

When I tell her it’s all fine

I mean, well, I’m a man

I like to get around

Doesn’t mean I don’t love her

Just like to do the town

She should just believe me

Don’t ask, don’t ‘What?’, don’t ‘Why?’

Why can’t she just forget it

And not think that I will lie

I mean, it’s not exactly lying

I’m still with her, I am

One night with someone else

Well, after all, I’m just a ram

I wish she wouldn’t wonder

I wish she wouldn’t look

I wish I could be faithful

To the vows that we both took

Isolated by Lynn Ede (male perspective coffee break short fictional verse)

2007-02-25T05:45:00.000-08:00

Isolated, sole, alone,

Apart, detached from sex

Liquor by my side, I find

I'm drinking to excess

I glance inside the bottle

My life it's floating there

Faded, wasted, shaped and tasted

No significance or care

And where she is, I've no idea

She's 'whereabouts unknown'

Out of my life and into hers

But in spite of her I've grown

Things are looking misty

As I'm summoned to the door

I fill the glass afresh

And it spills upon the floor

And there she is, she's back again

I can but stand and stare

I drink, devour her detail, her

Presence, face and hair

Standing there so motionless

Extending out her arm

Past days flash by and disappear,

I'm succumbing to her charm

Ring of Montmartre by Lynn - Coffee Break FICTION

2007-02-23T16:50:00.000-08:00

Mike is sitting at the table of the Basilic restaurant in Montmartre, his corduroy trousers brushing against the stockinged leg of Carla. A waiter pours the wine. There’s an awkward silence until he departs.

Mike: “Your hair’s… looking lovely,”

Carla: “Thank you.”

Both speak at once.

Mike: “I didn’t think you’d come.”

Carla: “How did you find me?”

Mike: “The internet. I searched, sent you the email. It was a risk, I wasn’t sure…”

Carla (clipped and challenging): “What if I’m married now?”

Mike is alarmed, anxious.

Mike: “Are you?”

Carla studies his face, keeps him waiting and covers her left hand. Mike is crestfallen.

Mike: “Oh, well, I see. Yes, of course, I… sorry, I …why did you come then?”

Carla: “To slap you. Yet… I don’t seem able to. Yet. To give you this too.”

She opens her purse and places on the table a three diamond ring.

Mike: “But it’s yours.”

Carla: “It was. Until you slept with my best friend.”

Mike: “Once. It was a mistake.”

Carla, fuming: “A mistake? What happened, did she trip and fall into your bed? How very fucking inconvenient for you! You poor, long suffering cheating low-life man you.”

Long silence. Mike looks around self consciously.

Mike: “I want to apologise.”

Carla, hissing: “Want? Want? You need to, Mike, you need to. You’re guilty and can’t live with it, that’s all. You think you can exonerate yourself if you say sorry and are forgiven.”

She kicks his shin under the table. He grimaces but does nothing.

Mike: “I deserve that.”

Carla: “Too fucking right you do!”

Mike (frowning): “Erm… your language… it’s…”

Carla, shaking and sarcastic: “Not your fucking prerogative. Ceased to be when my best friend accidentally found your penis between her legs. Couldn’t you have simply said, ‘Excuse me but you seem to be naked and so do I, I wonder if you could extricate yourself from me?’ Couldn’t you have said that Mike?”

Mike, attempting to keep the whole thing quiet: “Carla, please.”

Carla: “Please what? Smile and ask how she is? How IS the bitch anyway?”

Mike, staring at his hands: “I never saw her again. Carla I booked our hotel. Two rooms of course, if you … I mean, if you would… we could talk?”

Exploding laughter from Carla.

Carla: “Yeah, right. Never saw her!”

Mike: “It’s true, I didn’t.”

Silence.

Carla: “Never, not in three years?”

Mike: “Never. I don’t know what possessed me.”

Carla: “SHE possessed you. She did, Mike!”

Mike, shaking his head and picking his wallet from the table to the fascination of diners at the terrace setting, puts it into his jacket pocket and stands up: “Well, this clearly isn’t pleasant for you and I’ve no wish to…”

Carla: “Yes, leave, that’s right. Piss off. Go. Just like you. Ask to see me then go. Don’t forget this!”

She wipes angry, emotional tears away and throws the ring. It falls to the floor. Surrounding couples watch, staring openly. One woman watches intensely from a distance. Mike slowly picks it up and sits down again.

Mike: “I want to stay.”

Carla: “Why? What did YOU want me here for anyway, what’s the purpose?”

Mike: “To see you. Your face. Your hands.”

He lifts her hand, her left hand. She lets him place the ring on her finger and smiles. Mike's shoulders relax.

Then she stands and lands a resounding thwack of a slap on his cheek, hard and painful. Heads turn. Removing the ring, she drops it on the floor again. Turning on her heel she walks determinedly away to gasps from the restaurant. Mike drops his head into his hands at the table. Watching woman leans over, takes the ring from the floor and runs to the restaurant lobby where, unnoticed, she slips the diamond band into Carla’s pocket.

Hotel bedroom later that night.

Mike laying on the bed, eyes closed, scotch in hand, film droning on loudly in the background.

Interconnecting door handle slowly turns, door quietly opens into the room.

Curling around the edge is a gentle hand, with fingers one, two and the third; wearing three diamonds. Just noticeable at the base of the door an elegant, naked foot enters.

Last Moments - Coffee Break Short Fiction - copyright reserved Lynn 2007

2007-02-12T03:23:00.000-08:00

Jed’s gun was trained expertly on me. As I moved, he indicated with the end of it that I was to get into the lobby area, kinda like the inner passage.

I did.

He at once put the firearm down and, now out of view of the others, pulled me to him finally, squashin’ my poor breasts against him, holdin' me under my elbows so i couldn't move. He demanded my devotion.

“Jed?” an anxious male voice called from the main room, “…’you doin’ back there? You got her?”

Pickin’ up the gun again and pointin’ it straight at my heart, he stepped out without a word gone between us and pushed me out in front.

“I got her.” Jed called back in a low, even voice. “I got ‘er alright.”

We took our seats in the old wooden hick town courthouse. My eyes followed the veranda to the landing strip where we played as kids and I gazed at the blue sky beyond.

Gazed into the blue.

Blue as the official, stern, sing-song words rang in and out of the background, both in my head and in the air.

“…State of Tennessee… guilty………..until dead.” called the town clerk.

Through the doorway I saw Bess, my Bess.

Bess, sittin’ there, strapped down at the wrists, her large frame straining, her dark skin sweatin’. As our eyes met, she seemed to bear strength anew from the love in the air between us and, like in one o’ those slow motion pictures, she was all at once breakin’ free o’ those useless, leather strips and strugglin’ to get to me.

Well, she just didn’t like blue.

No.

She didn’t like it.

Though my mind was calm, the courthouse was up in mayhem. Guards shoutin’, hollerin’ and Jed, to my side, lookin’ alarmed around him, confused. What to do, he wasn’t sure, I could tell.

I stopped the guard’s arm as he went to get her.

He couldn’t have my Bess.

“Let her stay,” I told him, firm, “aint nothin’ she can do now. Let her stay comfortable here.”

She leant her head heavy on my shoulder, looked into my eyes and asked me,

“It’s gonna happen now, aint it, child?”

“Yeah,” I soothed, noddin’ and strokin’ her hair as she once had mine, “it’s gonna happen.”

Then, barely a breath later, she was gone.

Bess. Gone.

“State o’ Tennessee… guilty…. until dead.” rang out those loud words from the clerk again with empty echoes inside my brain.

Me.

It was me now.

My time.

My moments.

They were sayin’ my name.

I’d be goin’ with Bess.

More guards appeared in front of me as Bess’ head lolled at peace to one side. I stroked my finger over her eyes to close ‘em so’s, I told myself, she couldn’t see what’d happen next.

It was Jed who took my arm and stood me at the back of the wall, no messin’.

I stood.

Other guards looked at him kinda puzzled and I looked at Bess, back there on the chair.

Snuffin’ the lives of people we knew, had grown with, schooled with. All dropped their heads in their seats in a matter of moments, final moments renderin’ ‘em lifeless like discarded dolls.

I knew then life would be difficult for us always.

Starin’ at the spectacle, I was.

Starin.

Starin’ at the gone folk.

I thought to myself, quiet and resigned, stilled by the shock,

“can be no justice in all the world for this…however…we done what we done now.”

Just the two of us left in that silence so loud, it was, it was fair burstin’ my temples, Jed took my hand as I shook my head in wonderment from side to side, lookin’.

Jus’ lookin’.

Lookin’ at ‘em.

I can see ‘em now.

Clear as yesterday.

“We get us out to the strip,” he ordered, in a loud voice making me start, “we’ll be up in th’ air in five minutes. Come on, Pearl!”

“Run!” Jed told me, diggin’ me in the back.

I ran.

We ran, wind rushin’ through my hair, the long, blonde hair he loved so much, that’s only thing he remembers, he says.

We ran.

Raaaaaan.

Ran like the wind.

Snowman visits Down Under

2007-02-09T05:20:00.000-08:00

This visitor is dropping in especially for Monsieur et Madame from Adelaide who requested more snow pictures. Them being, of course, bathed in sunshine and heat quite sickeningly in Australia. Annoying isn't it. Well, at least we have... snowmen.

LONDON DAILY PHOTO - WINNER HAM

2007-02-04T13:07:00.001-08:00

Well, Ham of London was the lucky winner of my recent quiz thing, he correctly guessed that i had not ever thrown up in The Serpentine in Hyde Park, London. If you're vaguely interested, it's a couple of posts back. This, currently, is my favourite shot of his. Would make great Christmas cards i think. Coveted prize which Ham receives is being featured on here so i'm now introducing you - if you've not discovered it for yourself yet - to Ham's wondrous blog, London Daily Photo written, as it is, from London and showing a different daily photo of the sights and curious happenings in our capital city of the UK, from the East to West and North to South. Historic, landscape, games, jobs and the weird are captured by Ham's trusty camera whilst he, i can only imagine, rides around on his bike, screeching every now and then to snap something he's spotted. I recommend, when you visit his blog that you go back into the archives, well worth trawling through to bring back memories of when you were there last or just to have a virtual tour.

Quiz

2007-01-30T07:40:00.000-08:00

Here's a little meme which is doing the rounds, if you like that sort of thing to while away a couple of mins. When you've finished, there's another one on the post below if work is driving you mad and you need a break.

You Can't Handle the Truth

'Five things about me, only one of which is untrue'. Guess which one.

1. I won two beauty contests when i was in my late teens.

2. I used to be on television every September.

3. I once threw up horribly in The Serpentine in Hyde Park, London and the sick floated into some poor ducks.

4. I am in love with someone who loved me as a child.

5. I once got uncontrollable giggles with Princess Diana during the National Anthem.

Answer in comments box, please.

Winner (s) will have the internationally coveted prize of their blog being featured on my blog.

Home Truths

2007-01-30T05:43:00.000-08:00

Right here is a little assignmentette as Dive calls it, from where this originated, and from there from the Monday Melee... Take a second to fill it out and put it on your own blog. Enjoy. Here's mine.
Here we go then:

1: The Misanthropic.
(Name something you absolutely hate).
Unkindness

2: The Meretricious:
(Expose someone or something that's phony, fraudulent or bogus).
Oh, erm... er... ah yes... Danielle on Big Brother. Pretty little yes girl, tagging onto bullies gangs and distancing herself when it hits the fan. Vile.

3: The Malcontent:
(Name something you're unhappy with).
The fact that i'm not yet rich and famous by my writing being read in every household (you can help to put this right by reading my novel Under A Train

Shameless i know.

4: The Meritorious.
(Give someone credit for something and name it if you can).

My first son for being strong and his own man all his life so far, my second son for focus, taste and sense of right and wrong, my third son for applying himself and having worthy goals.

(See something good about yourself and name it).
I'm sensible, loyal, loving and kind (yep i know it's more than one but when else do we get this chance?)

6: The Make-Believe:
(Name something you wish for).
Peace and happiness (and entering for Miss World by the sound of it)

Your turn!

Dental Mess

2007-01-24T15:43:00.000-08:00

Finding a NHS - National Health Service - dentist to treat your pearly whites in the UK at the moment is like pulling teeth, in the last few years. Private costs of dental work are exhorbitant. The consequence is that many can't afford to attend the dentist now and mouths are becoming distinctly unhealthier by the day. When you do find a NHS dentist, queues form long and languidly on the pavement. As usual the problem is cash. The dentists are not paid enough to want to be NHS practitioners. How does it work in your country?

Relax - have a break right now!

2007-01-18T01:59:00.001-08:00

Seven down is 'genuine'; seven letters. Any idea? I love crosswords and we often do them at my local pub, The Beckford . Are you a Sudoku (which i recently learned; thanks Gary) person, a doodler, artist or just a plain thinker when you get a few moments' free time? Anyway, forget what you're doing for a second and indulge yourself; follow the links and have some fun.

Winter fireplace

2007-01-16T17:05:00.000-08:00

It's getting cold now! After a very mild start to the winter, it's starting to freeze. I used to have a grand inglenook fireplace. Now, i have gas central heating by radiators. Which is best? For me, i miss my open fire.

All grown up and still washing socks!

2007-01-14T10:51:00.000-08:00

This is all about childhood toys. I loved this toy and used to wash my dad's socks in it. It seemed very real at the time with a pipe at the back to drain away the dirty water after its chug-style washing action. Very stereotypical sexist toy i suppose but it gave me a lot of fun. And clean socks for my dad, which could only have been good. What was your favourite childhood toy?

RAIN

2007-01-09T16:24:00.001-08:00

Rain, rain, rain. Nothing but rain. Of course, in the summer there'll be a drought because we don't know how to conserve it in the UK for some reason. It's always the same...

MODEL BOATS ONLY PLEASE!

2007-01-03T08:35:00.000-08:00

Don't fancy your chances if you're heading for this bridge. The River Avon at Tewkesbury burst its banks on New Year's Day 2007. Heavy rainfall now sees most of Tewkesbury awash, for miles splashing in steady waves across what were fields. The landscape looks quite beautiful at the moment and, to my knowledge, no houses are flooded - yet! Wondering if should move best furniture upstairs...
More flood pics at Cheltenham Daily Photo

IT'S ALL OVER

2007-01-01T09:50:00.000-08:00

So that's it for another year, the wrapping discarded on the floor, chocolates eaten, pounds gained and corks popped. Next year i swear it's all going to be different, i'll shop earlier; do it all at the summer sales, wrap sooner and cook in advance. Just like i vowed last year... hmm. Hope 2007 is a good one for all of you.

Woodstock - Duke of Marlborough

2006-12-27T14:39:00.001-08:00

What a great welcome i had at this cosy inn - The Duke of Marlborough in Woodstock - I found on my journey home from Christmas hols. Derek, the Hotelier, provided pleasant, local chat and information at the bar while i enjoyed a well needed drink during my brief stop. The restaurant is apparently well known for its steaks and is positioned nearby Blenheim Palace
which is owned by, yes - The Duke of Marlborough.

Gift wrapping

2006-12-22T17:40:00.000-08:00

Are yours wrapped yet? Mine are, just about. These ones here are wrapped by my wonderful, Virgo-perfectionist mother, Joyce, who wins the prize for the most securely presented gifts. Every year we smile through our teeth as we pull, tear, bite and scratch to get in, only to find that the extra-strength catering pack of nylon ribbon she has bought will not yield to four people forming a tug-of-war line behind the gift. Scissors inevitably and eventually come to the rescue and the present is finally revealed. Bashed, squashed, dented, split and spilt, but revealed. "Oh it's lovely, thanks Mum!"

It'll be a hit and miss thing over the next few days with posting, but will do as and when i can like most of the DPs. Happy Christmas!

Cheltenham Christmas Lights

2006-12-21T15:59:00.001-08:00

... and this was the shot i was trying to take when my attention was diverted by the man yesterday, in the car. See the post below. In fact, i think that must be him, headlights on and driving towards us now...

"Take a photo of me!"

2006-12-20T16:10:00.000-08:00

This amused me! There i was, stationary in traffic and picking up the camera from the passenger seat i took one quick shot of the xmas lights of Cheltenham. "Hey!" said this man in the car, attracting my attention, "do you want a picture of me?" he shouted. "Er," I said, "Yes, i do! Why not?"
So, here he is! Also stationary in traffic. We made a few boring seconds a little bit brighter. No idea who he is and i didn't get chance to tell him about this site. Maybe someone knows him and will tell him! He got his photo taken, anyway.

Christmas Shop at Night!

2006-12-19T15:25:00.000-08:00

Evening shopping at the Regency Arcade in Cheltenham. The place was almost empty at 6.30 pm! Many high street retailers stayed open til 8 pm, some til 10.00 pm and I was one of few taking advantage of it. No crowds, no pushing and shoving, getting served straightaway, bliss!

WAITING FOR FATHER CHRISTMAS

2006-12-18T13:44:00.001-08:00

Especially for Mll, these are the stockings i have hung for my three sons since they were tiny. Stockings in the UK vary from netted ones, knitted ones, thin ones, long ones, short ones, paper ones, plastic ones and real ones; some people hang up their own socks! These ones i had made many years ago and they come out year after year. They've had toys inside them, socks, chocolates, books, CDs etc. Oh and of course, the statutory tangerine.

Christmas Tree

2006-12-17T15:00:00.000-08:00

Well just for completeness i've joined some other Daily Photo members in showing their trees off. Here's mine. I'm sure it'll please Dive, who is being dragged kicking and screaming into the festive season.
N.B. For those wanting an update on the Suffolk Murders, including the arrest of a man, on suspicion of murdering five women in Suffolk, at 7.30 am today please scroll down a few posts for title Suffolk Murders.

The river spreads wide at Tewkesbury

2006-12-16T14:58:00.001-08:00

Floods at Tewkesbury. Behind where the family is standing is normally all green; fields! The foreground is the River Avon which obviously is not usually this high. It has not yet covered the road, where i stood to take the picture, but it's very close!

Au Clair de la lune

2006-12-15T15:49:00.000-08:00

The Moon (she said unnecessarily). This is not a UK photo, clearly. We might claim many things, but the moon isn't one of them. I just like photographing its mystery. The first landing was on July 20 1969, though some believe it was a stage set! Where were you when this happened (if you're old enough)? If you had the chance to take a trip there, would you, and why?

Ho! Ho! Ho!

2006-12-14T13:09:00.000-08:00

What a jolly Father Christmas mine is! He comes out of the cupboard every year to grace my room. I bought him in a charity shop some years ago, priced £1. What a bargain! Anyone else got any favourite decorations?

Gloucester Cathedral at night

2006-12-13T16:05:00.000-08:00

Couldn't resist this night shot of Gloucester Cathedral, even though it's defined largely by a few areas of light. It was late and pitch black! Incidentally, a lot of the Harry Potter movies were filmed here.

Suffolk Murders

2006-12-12T15:15:00.000-08:00

Over the past ten days, women in Ipswich,Suffolk have been frightened to go out alone, since a series of murders have taken place. Today, two more naked female bodies were found in Levington, a wooded, rural area of the county. This now makes a total of five women, killed in similar ways. All the girls, in their twenties, were working as prostitutes. Some were mothers themselves and for some, drugs were an issue in their choice of profession; the need for cash. Whatever their reasons for this type of work, all were someone's daughter, sister, niece, friend and thoughts must now be with those families and for the loss of young lives. The serial killer(s) is/are still not caught, despite a massive media presence and police investigation.

Latest news 12.15 pm 13/12/06 - News of the World newspaper offers £250,000 reward for information leading to an arrest and local businessman Graeme Kalbraier of Call Connection offers £50,000 in the same way.
14/12/06 00.02 am - There is strong press speculation that there is a link to a murder which took place in the area in 1992.
14/12/06 18.00 pm - Profile of killer is that he is clever, organised, leaves the victims naked except for their jewellery, drops the bodies in or near water reducing forensic evidence, as does the removal of clothes. He strangles the victims. One line of enquiry is that they are looking for a chubby-faced man in a blue BMW.
15/12/06 16.30 pm Police say they are closing in, concentrating on 50 suspects.
15/12/06 17.30 pm Another girl, a former prostitute, is reported missing.
15/12/06 19.15 pm This girl now found safe.
16/12/06 09.00 One of the victims, Anneli Alderton, 24, was found to be pregnant.

16/12/06 TIMELINE OF SUFFOLK MURDERS
17/12/06 Many public leads of information following released CCTV images of one of the victim's last days.
17/12/06 11.45 Press conference reveals a man was arrested one month ago for attempted abduction of a woman in the red light district. He has been bailed and 'may be interviewed again'.
18/12/06 9.40 am - Breakthrough - Man is arrested on suspicion of murdering all five women. The thirty seven year old was arrested at his home in Trimley and is being held at an undisclosed police station in Suffolk.

It is unexpected that Police will say much more at this time, at least until the man is formally charged. Unlike the US, details of such things are not readily available at time of arrest for legal reasons, for example it could jeopardise the right of the accused to a fair trial. 'Trial by Media' is a phrase often used, so the police will be very careful about this risk, wanting a full chance to prosecute this man fairly and thoroughly within the boundaries of the English legal system.

He is thought to be Tom Stephens, a man who says he knew and 'looked after' the girls very well. One of them, Tanya, he claims to have been more or less a boyfriend to; he is well spoken (he has given interviews to the press, mainly the Sunday Mirror, which were played today on tv), articulate and seems very emotional, breaking down in tears at several times during the interview. He claims he is innocent, but knew that soon he would be arrested, since he could not provide alibis.
19/12/06 At 5.00 am this morning another man has been arrested at his home in Ipswich. The 48-year-old is being questioned at an undisclosed police station in Suffolk.
19/12/06 5.30 pm Latest suspect named is Steve Wright, second one to be arrested on suspicion of murder of the five girls.
21/12/06 10.15 pm Police release statement that the first suspect is released on police bail.
The second man arrested, Steve Wright, 48, a lorry driver, has been charged with the murder of all five women in the Ipswich area. He will appear before court at Ipswich tomorrow morning.

We're under water in Tewkesbury!

2006-12-12T01:53:00.000-08:00

The first picture is the normal view from my back windows - beautiful fields stretching on and on. The second picture is the same view, believe it or not, taken today! We are flooded. Tewkesbury is no stranger to flooding. Last night we had 10 ml of rain and in the Welsh hills, from where additional rainfall runs, they had 18 ml last night. It's still rising! There is a 6 foot drop to the water from my back fence so, so far, we are fine and i actually find the changing landscape exciting, beautiful and a bit of a bonus! Sometimes i have a view of glorious fields, sometimes a glassy lake. Fingers crossed it doesn't reach the fence though!

Pink cloud

2006-12-10T13:08:00.000-08:00

I love different cloud formations and this single bird on the line too, made it a good shot for me, nothing more nothing less really.

Victorian English Post Box

2006-12-06T16:28:00.000-08:00

I love this Victorian post box, to think what it's seen over the years! You can see the mark on the front VR: Victoria Regina. Quite a beautiful design, i think, compared to today's slits in walls and tubular free-standing boxes. Anyway, whatever, it's truly British. Next to it, another British symbol, the phone box. Bang up to date and complete with email, text and phone. What a contrast! Shows the progression in correspondence facilities. Think of the loving letters artfully written which have been dropped into that box, eagerly awaiting a reply perhaps several weeks later. We are lucky to have instant feedback today. Or are we so lucky? Nothing quite like a thoughtfully composed, romantic, handwritten letter, is there?
Won' t be able to post until Monday now, but i'll be checking in now and again. Have a good weekend!

From Wheat to Neat - Gloucester docks

2006-12-05T16:17:00.000-08:00

I managed, in between being blown over by gales and drowned by heavy rain (you can sympathise now if you want), to take a quick shot of Gloucester Docks before the heavens opened again. These warehouses were used to store corn which, historically, was supplied thereafter to the Midlands; Gloucester Docks was a very important part of the British shipping network from 1827 when it first opened. Today the warehouses have been recently converted into luxury apartments and some smart shopping areas are planned to add to the small retail area which includes restaurants, shops and fascinating waterways museums.

Southampton UK - a dim view?

2006-12-04T16:10:00.000-08:00

When staying in a hotel in Southampton (south coast) i was a bit dismayed to have such a busy outlook but in the end, after finishing what i had to do, i had some time to spend just watching. People coming and going through their day, the man walking his dog, training him as he went, students on their way to university. I saw a couple having an argument, gesticulating wildly until she stormed off (he didn't follow; BIG mistake) and this junction was quite difficult - i saw two collisions in one evening, nothing serious but nonetheless.

Sculpture - Touching Souls

2006-12-03T16:17:00.000-08:00

This sculpture by Mico Kaufman resides in the grounds of Tewkesbury Abbey, just by the shops and tea shops of Church Street. Symbolising four main ethnic groups uniting, its name is a play on words (souls/soles - the bottoms of their feet are touching).

SATURDAY NIGHT DREAM COME TRUE - not

2006-12-02T16:22:00.000-08:00

So another lottery ticket bites the dust. I'll have to cancel my new Mercedes. Again.
If you won, what would you do with the money. Say £8 million, for example. Don't give me all that "i'd take care of my family and friends" because that's a given. Of course we'd all do that. What else after that? Do you have a plan? Better still, do you have a strategy for winning? WHA..t? It was worth asking...

Random Reading

2006-12-02T13:02:00.001-08:00

Something I got from Utsav's blog. Very interesting. Anybody reading this do carry it forward and leave me a line.

Right. So the rules are:

1. grab the nearest book. no cheating! the nearest book.
2. open the book to page 123.
3. find the fifth sentence.
4. post the text of the next four sentences on your blog, along with these instructions.
5. don't you dare dig for a cool or intellectual book on your shelf. pick out whatever is closest!

Here's mine:

"That was a terrible jump."

"He wasn't trying hard enough when he jumped."

"Bad landing."

"Awful landing."

That's four sentences. This is a great book and each copy sends £1 of the purchase price to children with autism. It was honestly the closest book, its title being Speaking With The Angel, compiled by Nick Hornby (Penguin books). Collection of really great short stories by well-known authors. My four sentences were from After I Was Thrown In The River And Before I Drowned by Dave Eggers. It's interesting to know what books different people keep nearby.

You know what to do.

Night Walk in Tewkesbury

2006-12-01T13:15:00.000-08:00

Fancy a spooky night walk? In the medieval town of Tewkesbury, Gloucestershire, there were once 90 alleys similar to this, thought to have been built in the 17th century. Thirty remain today, with quaint cottages set to the sides of some. They run between the shops with some leading down to the River Avon. Ghost walks organised in the town, especially around Halloween time are a sell-out! Local author Cliff Burd has written an excellent book about their history called The Lost Alleys of Tewkesbury. The photo was taken in daylight - no, i wasn't scared or anything, really i wasn't. Well, not much anyway... and i thought the lighting might be better. lol Really!

They Didn't Have A Leg To Stand On

2006-11-30T14:47:00.000-08:00

How odd this photo turned out to be! Seems to have amputated a leg each from these poor people. I certainly didn't mean to be so violent...

Cheltenham tourists - coach loads!

2006-11-29T11:16:00.000-08:00

I ran into - yes almost literally! - dozens of foreign tourists today rushing through Cheltenham. Didn't get chance to ask them where they were from but they were so happy and excited, full of life and new experience. I like the movement in this shot; seems to sum up their exhuberence. Perhaps some of them might see this and tell us how they're enjoying their trip.

Winchcombe, Gloucestershire, UK

2006-11-28T14:41:00.000-08:00

Winchcombe, with its population of 5,000 is a charming, small village just 12 miles from Cheltenham, UK. These stone cottages are typical. Tourists flock to Sudeley Castle there, which is the last home of King Henry VIII's wife Catherine Parr. A family house here, say 3 bedrooms, sells for around £375,000.

Who, Why, What, Where and When - feet

2006-11-27T14:17:00.000-08:00

Who are they? Why are they there? What are they doing? Where are they? When (time of day) was it? You decide!

Diana - Fitting tribute or a sadly lacking, late token from her boys?

2006-11-26T06:37:00.000-08:00

I took this photograph in 1981 shortly before the Royal Wedding; that's me with my father in the reflection. Diana, Princess of Wales is much missed here still in the UK and only today, some 10 years after her death almost, her sons Princes William and Harry - having been noticed for providing no memorial and for very little speaking of their mother - are planning a rock concert to honour her. Too little, too late? Their reluctance to speak of her or commission a fitting tribute embarrasses and saddens many who knew how much she loved them. In 10 years all we have in the UK is an ineffectual fountain in her name.
The Princes have continued some of her charities but they have not publicly recognised the Princess' worth as mother and veritable pioneer of raising awareness of some 'hot potato' charities. The Princess was much maligned and disbelieved by many for her suspicions about her own then forthcoming untimely death. Who was right in the end though? Sadly, the Princess was.

Tewkesbury Abbey and surrounds

2006-11-25T13:39:00.000-08:00

Twilight view of beautiful Tewkesbury Abbey, which dates from 12th century, taken from the grounds of Tewkesbury Park Hotel.

Wall - What have you seen?

2006-11-24T15:32:00.000-08:00

This old wall interested me this evening. Leading up to the grounds of the Abbey in Tewkesbury by the banks of the River Avon, i began to wonder what it has 'seen' over the years. The Abbey dates from the 12th century, but this wall appears to be from all ages, with pieces repaired and filled in at different times. I wonder who has stood by it, leant on it and watched the seasons change around it. Families, workers, lovers...

Candy Corner Sweet Shop, Tewkesbury, UK

2006-11-23T14:31:00.000-08:00

I can't walk past this shop without popping in to buy some old-fashioned sweets. Sold in here are all the confectionery you recall from your childhood. Things such as aniseed balls, bon-bons, millions, lollipops, humbugs, marshmallows, turkish delight, sherbet, honeycomb, rainbow crystals, candy canes and cough candies. A thorough brushing of the teeth afterwards too!

You remember the childhood experience of rushing to the corner sweet shop, choosing your favourites and wandering back, small paper bag clutched in your hand, a bulge in your cheeks and change in your pocket? What were your favourites?
The building itself, in Tewkesbury, Gloucestershire, UK, is one of many stunning 15th century houses to be found in the town, black and white with timbers and narrow, winding staircases inside. A step back in time.

Man Kills Swan - "Because I needed to eat."

2006-11-22T12:41:00.000-08:00

This story appeared today on Sky News tv.
It's not for the squeamish.

A man, in North Wales, UK was found by police to be walking along, with a dead swan in a carrier bag, with feathers on his beard and blood on his shirt.

When questioned by police, he replied, "I am a Muslim, I am fasting (for Ramadan) and I needed to eat... I did nothing wrong, it was only a bird..."

In Britain, all these beautiful creatures belong to Her Majesty the Queen. When told this by the officers, he replied, "I hate the Queen. I hate this country."

The man, Shamsu Miah, was sentenced to two months' imprisonment but, having already served this time on remand, was released from custody.

The thing that bemuses me is his excuse that he is Muslim and fasting, that he needed to eat. Well, think about it; if we're hungry, can't we make some simple toast, grab a banana, pop into the shop for a sandwich? I mean, I don't think to myself halfway through the day, 'wow i'm starving. Must nip down to the river and slay a swan.' Does anyone else?

To read or not to read - that is the question

2006-11-21T09:01:00.000-08:00

Taking a break from UK shots, I'm wondering what you're reading. More to the point, when do you read? A regular few pages before the book falls on your face at night, like me? Or do you make time to read.

I'd also like to know what your favourite book is - ever - and why. Perhaps you don't read at all, some people don't. To pick one book - that's so difficult for me, i can never choose. So I'll cheat and say it's between Sons & Lovers; D. H. Lawrence, L'etranger; Albert Camus and Jude the Obscure; Thomas Hardy. Shakespeare's up there, too. And Larochefoucauld. Ok, i'll stop...! Sometimes i just like to devour contemporary romances, too..

I don't get a lot of time anymore though, so it's the 're-reading a couple of the same pages a night' syndrome before nodding off!

My current page-turner is John Halifax, Gentleman by Dinah Cruik. Set in 1794, it's about a 14-year old orphan boy who achieves success through unerring honesty, initiative and hard work. Very moving and tense at times, it's a raw, though emotional, work of fiction with much social history. I'm only a quarter of the way through it and have an added interest in that the town in which it is set is said to be Tewkesbury, Gloucestershire, UK which i know well.

So tell me then... what's making your eyes dart across the paper, or listen with keen ears to a talking book at moment?

Autumn runs into Christmas - Too early?

2006-11-20T15:39:00.000-08:00

Autumn leaves are full on the ground and this photo shows i think how they are leading earlier and earlier into Christmas until they are completely merged.

The Christmas lights were turned on last night in Cheltenham, UK, by the British pop band 'McFly'. Screaming girls filled the city for their concert and a good, but overcrowded, night was had by all.

The question remains though, is turning Christmas lights on at 19th November too early? When is a good time?

Is it a Ghost?

2006-11-19T15:38:00.000-08:00

This photo is quite curious. It's of beautiful cows of course, being led by the farmer up front, right past my car. I had to sit and wait. Look closely, though, there's a pair of legs on the grass verge, just through the cows' legs. There was absolutely no-one there. Farmer at front and someone behind the procession, that was all, and anyway wouldn't it make rather a small man? When they'd gone past, i searched, but not a soul in sight. Was it a ghost?

Above The Noise - Cheltenham UK

2006-11-18T15:22:00.000-08:00

Looking around a city - Cheltenham, UK - today, I wondered what to choose to post. Busy shoppers, rushing around, crowds jostling, a family playing some sort of card game on a bench... then suddenly i looked upwards and spotted the sky was so incredibly blue and clear. There wasn't a cloud in sight, and as a backdrop to these street lights, i loved the simplicity of it. The design of the lamps is quite stylish anyway, but the block of blue makes it minimalist. Strange that below this peaceful image, the city was alive with people going about their business, making the low hum of noise that crowds do.

BBC Children In Need UK TV Appeal

2006-11-17T16:23:00.000-08:00

The tv appeal for Britain's Children In Need has been televised this evening by the BBC. Viewers telephone the number on the screen and donate any amount, however small or large, to youngsters in the UK who need assistance for whatever reason, whether they have special needs, live in deprived areas or need holidays, equipment, care, that they would not otherwise be able to have. The total creeps up steadily as the show goes on, with celebrities, singers, actors giving their time free to provide an evening of live entertainment in return for viewers' donations. This is the total reached at midnight tonight and still rising; the whole thing runs into tomorrow daytime, with money still going towards the running total. What happens in your country, of this kind? Total of funds raised at midday Saturday, the following day is £18.3M
For highlights and running total www.bbc.co.uk/pudsey

Fish and Chips - British Seaside Takeaway

2006-11-16T15:30:00.000-08:00

Fish and Chips - a traditional British meal. Best eaten straight out of the paper walking along the seafront. Now and again, it's delicious but obviously apart from the fish itself, it's not too healthy if eaten all the time. Notice all that fat on the paper. Still, that's not the issue here.

Greenpeace and academics around the world now agree that we are taking too many fish from our oceans and that this is having a detrimental impact on our marine life. Yet, fishermen insist there is still plenty of catch around, for run-of-the-mill fish such as cod. Will the kiss-me-quick day at the seaside not be rounded off by a trip to the chippy in the future? Would we miss it, i wonder, given that we are all geared to a more healthy lifestyle.

My Home - Goodwood House West Sussex UK

2006-11-16T02:02:00.000-08:00

Yes, this really was my home! I know, impressive it certainly was and i felt very happy living here. For less than a year in 1997, i think it was, Goodwood House in West Sussex, UK, was home to us in between house purchases and home to horseracing, golfing events and of course the Festival of Speed.

A truly stunning estate in beautiful southern English countryside, the house is owned by the Earl and Countess of March and 'our' part of the house was the six windows at the right corner of the picture, next to our front door. I recall the kitchen was huge with those three bottom windows pouring light in, but being such high ceilings, the windows were impossible to look out from! Upstairs, though we had fabulous views. There was a very cosy sitting room where i would relax in the evenings watching television, reading, writing or playing with or supervising homework with my boys. It was a fantastic place to live, my three young sons would play in the acres of grounds and swim in the pool, where they made some very good friends. It was just blissful and we loved it. I have such happy memories.

Some places we look back on are just all good. Occasionally with memories, I know, we dress them up to being better than they actually were, but this one honestly was a wonderful place to be, one of my favourite homes, however little time we spent there.

As grand as this looks, it is merely the back of the house, the stables, so we were right next to the racehorses which we used to see being led out for training and races, watching them return after the race with sweaty foam on them but seemingly exhilarated. I have lots of lovely photographs to look at but how i still miss it!

Links didn't work today but if you want to know more, URLs are: http://www.goodwood.co.uk/estate/ and http://www.goodwood.co.uk/horseracing/

The English Country Pub - The Beckford Inn

2006-11-14T12:54:00.000-08:00

A quintessentially English country Inn. Step inside and you find a murmur of gentle conversation interspersed by bursts of raucous laughter from friendly, regular voices. I try to pop in between work assignments every few days; i've met some great friends there and always feel more relaxed after a visit (no i don't drink much! It's simply down to the convivial atmosphere there and wonderfully friendly locals, of which i am now one). Enjoying a quiet pint in front of the fire in great company at your local pub. What's better? Well for me it's usually an orange juice or coffee - I'm a bit of a lightweight and am gently teased for being so - or pushing the boat out i'd have a glass of wine but it's the atmosphere of the English country pub that the British enjoy. I popped in today to meet friends and thought I'd make a post about it here - there's Tony, a friend and local resident in front of the hotel - we like to have a chat over a drink with countless other interesting regulars - people from all walks of life; the public house is the hub of British society and this hotel is a great example. The summer just passed was fabulous, great memories of us sitting in the sun, putting the world to rights, relaxing and fighting over the dictionary for the crossword - politely of course; we're British!

The Beckford Inn, an 18th century coaching inn, is five miles equidistant from Tewkesbury and the famous Cheltenham racecourse. With great hotel accommodation it makes the perfect stay for racing enthusiasts.There are pleasant sun-trapped gardens for summer and cosy tables inside in winter, providing in addition a warm welcome from my very good friends the landlords Norman, Sue and Sue's son Ollie, seen here in the bar which is said to have been frequented by Montgomery. As the winter nights draw in, there are jovial, familiar faces around the bar and delicious food served from both a la carte and bar menus. A regular occurrence in the day is three or four of us - or eight or nine - whoever gets there first - filling in the crossword after a busy day's work. We attempt those from The Telegraph to the Daily Mail and Western Daily Press but find the Gloucestershire Echo to be the most difficult. It's a great place to be and provides a really welcome break in the working day. Home from home.

Here comes the shameless, nay proud, advertising -

www.thebeckford.com
Tel: +44 (0)1386 881532

Come on, Eileen, take a seat

2006-11-13T16:32:00.000-08:00

I always think these plaques are interesting and touching. It is something of a tradition in Britain to have a seat adorned with such a plaque bearing the name of someone who has died, their dates and who bought the seat and plaque. This one was for Eileen Jones, b. 1916, d. 2001. I took a break today on it and thought about her. I didn't know her at all, of course. Perhaps she loved to sit in Cheltenham's peaceful Imperial Gardens, where the seat now resides. The gardens are stunning, beautifully planted with fountains and surrounded by smart Georgian houses, designer shops and the regal Queen's Hotel. No wonder she loved it.
Do such habits of buying a seat in someone's name exist in other countries?

Computer Problems! Aaarrrrghhh !!!

2006-11-12T16:35:00.000-08:00

Does this image make you want to scream? It does me. I've had laptop problems now for ages but today it's driven me crazy.

Now I'm a mild-mannered person and pretty easy going but i really want to throw it out of the window now! Lots of work and no vehicle to do it on. I've got multiple windows - up to 98 of them - opening randomly and they're Help Centre pages from each of the
programmes i have. Any techies out there please with a solution? Please? Grr...

On the plus side, I was cheered when i found out this evening I'd won a little caption competition at Rachel's interesting and moving blog from London. She is a survivor of the 7/7 London bombings and has written accounts of her terrible experience.

Historic Buildings in Tewkesbury

2006-11-12T07:38:00.000-08:00

I was happy to get this shot which takes in several buildings all at once, showing the gorgeous architecture we have in Tewkesbury, Gloucestershire, UK. The street we are looking along has residential cottages and the backs of shops, since it turns just off Church Street. The building facing us is a museum in Church Street.
Behind those lovely old Tudor beams is Tewkesbury Abbey. From here we can only see the top of it, but it represents the interesting sights to be had in this town, famous for the Battle of Tewkesbury in 1471. The borough spreads to surrounding villages and has a population of 75,000. The Abbey itself dates from the 12th century and accommodates many gargoyles of note which are called Green Men, as they have vines protruding from their mouths and around their faces, symbolising life for people of pre-Christian times.

Remembrance Day, Armistice November 11th 2006 - First World War

2006-11-11T09:40:00.000-08:00

I'm very late posting today, it's been a bit hectic. Attended a service for Armistice Day and kept quiet for two minutes. It marks the end of the First World War on this day in 1918. Poppies are the symbol of the day. After the devastation of the fighting, all that was left in most areas was mud-soaked land. Poppy seeds lay in the ground and happen to thrive best when the soil has been disturbed, as it was then. Consequently, virtually the only thing seen to be growing soon after and symbolising life, were the poppies, sprouting freshly through the earth. We mark the occasion of the Armistice being signed on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month in 1918 with two minutes' silence. See others' versions of remembrance from Paris and UK

Autumn Reds

2006-11-10T13:33:00.000-08:00

Lovely shades of red pink and yellow i found today in this shot of a British autumn. Ancient civilisations calculated years by the amount of Autumns. It's a time for harvest, when the days becoming shorter and the winter chill begins to set in.
'Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness' - Keats: To Autumn. He wrote the poem after returning from an autumn walk in Winchester, UK.

me

2006-11-10T07:45:00.000-08:00

Well since it seems impossible to add a photo to my profile... (why can we not select from browse button like we do in the normal way? Grr.) ... i thought i'd just post it here. So this is me. Most people seem to have a photo so why should i be any different. Can anyone please tell me how to easily put it on the profile page. The instructions seem indecipherable to me. Thanks!

Made-Man

2006-11-10T05:29:00.000-08:00

Whilst out driving, i stopped to get petrol from a very small country garage just outside Tewkesbury, Gloucestershire, UK. This 'man' was leaning up against the frontage. It amused me to think of the mechanics inside who, presumably, put the thing together in their spare time. The detail, the pose and materials have all got a lot of thought put into them! The plant is strategically placed; is the well-endowed gent relieving himself into the pot?

Lazy Duck

2006-11-09T01:37:00.000-08:00

Must have been a tiring morning and how convenient to find this cable to rest upon!

Taken on the River Avon in Gloucestershire UK.

Camera: Fuji 5500

British Autumn - greens

2006-11-08T04:20:00.000-08:00

Lovely greens and yellows here as the trees turn colour. Will try to capture some reds and browns for tomorrow as those shades are really the true representation of the British Autumn.

Shades of Summer

2006-11-07T03:19:00.000-08:00

The contrasts of summer... sigh.... this is a photo i took at a long summer evening just a few weeks ago, relaxing in the twilight sunshine with a couple of drinks... ahhh it was so relaxing.

Now cast your eyes to the smaller photo below and oh my goodness what a difference. Such is the garden now, sad and empty with only a lone badminton shuttlecock laying forlornly on the table as a reminder of the summer activities now impossible in my slushy, swampy, rainy garden. Sigh indeed. Don't know about you, but i prefer the first one!

Tewkesbury Abbey in Autumn

2006-11-06T08:07:00.000-08:00

This beautiful 12th century abbey in Tewkesbury, Gloucestershire is one of those spared in the sweeping abolition of churches by Henry VIII.

Taken with Fuji Finepix 3.2 megapixels and enhanced in Photoshop.

Fire in the sky - Firework Night

2006-11-06T02:03:00.000-08:00

Guy Fawkes Night went off with a bang again this year in the UK. Remember, remember the 5th of November. Gunpowder, Treason and Plot... goes the verse... marking the historic occasion of the foiled attempt to blow up Parliament in 1605 by one Guy Fawkes and his co-conspirators. Their attempt to kill James I in the process was discovered and intercepted at the last moment.

royal wedding uk - Prince Charles and Camilla attend

2006-11-05T15:43:00.000-08:00

Prince Charles and Camilla caught exchanging a close look after the wedding of Camilla's daughter this year.

I took this photo in May 2006 at the wedding of the daughter of Camilla, Duchess of Cornwall, Laura, to Harry. They were married at the tiny village of Lacock in Wiltshire. The smaller photo shows the attention the ceremony received with lenses trained eagerly on the Royal guests. Crowds turned up to watch and were policed as guests attended the Royal Wedding. These two late arrivals were in a hurry to reach the church at the end of the tiny street. The lady's shoes were far too high and she decided to take them off and run for it! I love the way the camera has caught her in mid air and also the delighted crowd watching her having just removed her heels throwing fashion consciousness to the wind.

I'm sure you'll agree, by the second photo, how ridiculously high her heels were! She just couldn't walk in them.

Fuji 5500

Selsley Gloucestershire

2006-11-05T14:53:00.000-08:00

Such a stunning view, seemed to go on forever. From Selsley in Gloucestershire.

candy floss sky - barbe a papa

2006-11-04T17:09:00.000-08:00

This is so beautiful in my opinion, i could just look at the shapes and colours for ages. So, if nothing else is done during the day to mark with a photo, it shows you can always point the lens upwards and achieve a result.

Full Moon

2006-11-04T17:02:00.000-08:00

Well it wa a full moon today - very romantic and a lovely sight. I love the haze around the circle and the trees in silhouette against its light. We made a wish and it made me wonder what other traditions and superstitions are to be found in differing countries at full moon?

Darling Starlings Vol! Vol! Fly! Fly!

2006-11-03T01:46:00.000-08:00

It's like a scene from The Birds, isn't it? This happens every year, almost on the same date in early autumn. This is a view from Tewkesbury in Gloucestershire. These lovely starlings collect on these lines here, before flying off around the area, creating marvellous shapes in the air, swooping and diving in all directions. Many people are against the flocks, saying they cause damage to buildings, etc. but i see only beauty and interest in them.