More 55s

When I was young I used to ask: “How do you know if you’re in love?” And they answered: “If you aren’t sure, you’re not.”

I didn’t understand. Not then. But I do now. Every moment of every day I understand and know I am in love. And even better, I know I am loved.

13 April 2012

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“Hand it over and tell me where you got it, please.”


“Shan’t.”

“I’m asking nicely. Please let me see it.”

“It’s mine!”

“I really need to look at it, young man. Now!”

“Officer, leave my son alone. He’s only playing marbles. What’s wrong with that?”

“Well, Ma’am. That’s not a marble, it’s a glass eye.”
April 6, 2012

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There’s something about the eventual arrival of Spring weather after a long and miserable winter that brings out the best and the worst in people. I’ve seen how everyone has a happier expression and they are smiling at each other again. But have you noticed how awful their pasty skin looks in such bright light?
March 30, 2012

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Signs of Spring

Wood pigeon.
Magpie. (Morning Sir.)

Blackbirds.
Some sort of crow.
Unidentified, large, brown, bird of prey.
(Must look that up when I get home.)

Pied wagtail.
Collared dove.
Another magpie. Two for joy!
Lots of small twittering things in a tree.

More blackbirds.
A second crow, carrying a twig.
Squirrel!

Sparrow.
Robin.
Squashed young badger.

March 23 2012

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February 17, 2012

‘So, traditional tales are too scary for children,?’ Brian queried after gathering his family in the kitchen.  His young sons looked on, fascinated.

‘No more Brothers Grimm. No more Fee Fi Fo Fum.

‘Maybe we should show them a slice of real life, then,’ he sneered, and plunged the bread knife into his wife’s chest.

#Inspired by a news story. Are fairytales too frightening for children?

The tale of the Lancashire witches (in 55 words)

Fear and superstition were rife in early 17th century England so it was all too easy to misinterpret a glance, and link it to later misfortune. And that’s why ten people of Pendle were hanged for witchcraft. Device, Chattox, Demdike, Whittle and Co. No black cats, no pointy hats; just accusations and misdirected religious fervour.

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The Lancashire (or Pendle) Witches are among the most famous in England. Like their US counterparts in Salem, Mass., the group were victims of over zealous neighbours who were quick to accuse at the first sign of trouble. Alizon Device was called witch after she had dealings with a peddlar who refused to give her some pins. He collapsed, paralysed, and later died (probably of a stroke) and Alizon was blamed. She was said to have cursed him, with the help of her large black dog familiar. Friends and neighbours were soon rounded up and branded as a coven, who were said to meet for Sabbats at the home of Anne Whittle, known as Old Chattox.

In spite of common belief, witches were not burned at the stake in England. That treatment was reserved for heretics, and the fires wee kept alight by throwing on homosexual 'faggots' (which actually means a bundle of sticks).

Victorian philanthropy

Since the earliest days of industrialisation, factory owners created communities for their work forces, based around a centre of production. Their apparent generosity earned them the title of philanthropist. In truth they were just maximising performance. A healthy workforce is a productive one, so looking after staff meant individuals worked harder and longer, increasing profits.

Billy's challenge

Big Mike Bigelow stared at Billy’s offering  for half a minute that seemed to stretch for hours.  If Mr Big accepted the gift, Billy knew he’d be accepted into the gang.  This was his only chance. The big man opened a cigar box and proffered it, nodding a direction to drop the severed finger in.

10 August 2012

Blind faith

She was almost blind and her limbs trembled constantly, but she knew she was doing holy work. She knew her god would guide her hand if she was weak, so she continued with her mission. But gradually she began to doubt. Perhaps trying to restore the church fresco wasn’t such a great idea after all. 

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16 august 2012
An 80-year-old Spanish woman has ruined a painting of Christ on the wall of her local church by attempting some 'restoration' work.  The image by painter Elias Garcia Martinez now looks more like "a very hairy monkey in an ill-fitting tunic" according to one observer. More details here. 

Further 55s

An explanation can be found here. 

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There is no way through. So, having no dynamite, I must chip my slow way, painfully, until I can be free. I can smell fresh air and there are bright lights through the narrow chinks but I am still trapped. Is anyone digging toward me or do I have to dig my own escape? Again.

Living history: the past brought back to life. Were the good old days really so great? Or do we look at them through rose coloured spectacles? Whatever the real story, the picture painted by modern, interactive museums is attractive. And I plan to enjoy my old fashioned fish and chips when I visit one today!

The past is dead, and so is every person in it. So why am I fascinated with history and all its tales? Do we learn its lessons or are we doomed to repeat mistakes because of human nature? Should I try to better them or just relax and do what I want?

I don’t know.

Every year I promise myself that I’m not going to go berserk in planning the yule celebrations and yet each time I wear myself out buying and wrapping presents, cleaning the house so I can put up decorations, trimming the tree, planning and cooking meals, and all the hundred other jobs. So – mince pie anyone?

Fifty five words of seasonal thoughts. What are the essential ingredients for this time of year? Turkey, mistletoe, pork pie, presents, egg-nog, tree, baubles, lights, mince pies, candles, cheesy songs, cranberries, crackers, paper chains, pudding, stocking fillers, trifle, a pair of socks, wrapping paper, chocolate coins, wine, energy and patience!

So, have I forgotten anything?

More 55s

See the previous post for an explanation.

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Tiring. I tell you it’s tiring. You’d think having nothing to do would make life easy, wouldn’t you? But that’s not the case. Trying to look busy is even worse. I’d much sooner have enough to do so I could get on with it and not have to make up jobs to justify my paycheck. 

 No, I won’t! If you think I’m going to do all of that for you when you never do anything for anyone except yourself and you seem not to know the word “thanks” you have another think coming. You are the most selfish, arrogant leech I ever met!

Well, that’s what I SHOULD have said.

And he was sitting there in the middle of the carpet, stark naked except for the lampshade, and holding a torch in one hand and a copy of the Times in the other. And he was singing “When the Saints Go Marching In.” Of course I never worked out what he’d done with the tomatoes.

Fifty five! I’m sure last time I looked I was thirty-something with a great job, the future all ahead of me and ambitions to meet. And before that I was just 19, setting out expectantly in the world. It doesn’t really seem so long since I was starting high school. Where did the time go? 

55s

These are from a challenge I used to take part in that required exactly 55 words on any topic.
Various dates
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There were good things and bad things for Brenda about the accident. Although her belongings escaped damage when the car went out of control, she now faced a big problem with future transport. She would just have to find another shopping trolley to carry her life around in. It was tough being a bag lady.


“Please sit down.”
“No. Mummy doesn’t make us sit down.”
“I’m sure she does. Sit down!”
“Don’t have to.”
“If you don’t sit down you won’t get ice cream.”
“You’re mean.”
“People are getting annoyed with you.”
”Don’t care what people think. Mummy wouldn’t care about people.”
“Mummy never cared about anything much. Including us.”


Bernard hated management speak, but even more he loathed when he did all the work and colleagues took the credit.
So he devised a plan.
The next time one of the smarmy sales requested his ‘strategic input’ he returned totally wrong data.
“I think that’s what they call ‘low hanging fruit’,” he chuckled to himself.


It had been a long and tiring hearing. The coroner said it was impossible to tell why the death happened, and so he had to return a verdict of misadventure. The evidence said he’d been cleaning his gun when it went off and shot him in the face.  But we all know what that means.


Do not feed the birds, the sign said. Flying pests are a health hazard and you could face a fine of up to £5000. But the gulls could catch chips in flight. And Mary could not resist watching their aerobatics.  Besides, they would have trouble finding £5000 from her anyway. Let them try to sue!


Dianne sat paralysed with fear until the light faded, legs drawn up into her chair so the beast couldn’t reach her. Unable to see where the terrifying animal might be, she remained until rescue arrived.
It did not help her temper when her friend laughed out loud: “It’s a tomato top - not a spider!”


Dan had heard all the superstitions from his old grandma but he ignored them.  Shoes on the table, horseshoes upside down, red and white flowers in the same vase. All supposedly portended death – but he couldn’t see it. He didn’t see the bus coming as he stepped under a ladder to cross the road either.


Will’s motorbike wasn’t very powerful, but he dreamed of winning races just as soon as he was old enough to ride a big machine. He regularly practised his victory salute in readiness for the day.
At the inquest the lorry driver said Will could not have swerved because he had his hands in the air.


It had been a near thing. He reached out to grab her hand as she slipped off the kerb, right in front of the car, but couldn’t catch hold. It was only because the driver was a professional that he managed to miss her.  It was almost impossible to believe.
But trains can’t swerve.


“Stupid man,” thought Billy ‘the Dip’ Jackson. The bloke didn’t have a clue. He’d been the perfect mark – clearly a tourist and carrying cash in his back pocket. Billy counted out the notes until he came to the last sheet and read: “Enjoy your moment of gloating. They’re fakes. And I’ve now got your wallet.”


He dressed casually and his general impression suggested tweed. His outfits gave off a sort of browny-green aura, as if he had been carved from a part of the landscape, and they had the kind of texture that conjured up pictures of moorland and bracken. Sometimes I swear I could hear grouse calling around him


There really was no option, she thought as she plunged in the sharp knife. It had to be disposed of completely.
She watched the blood ooze away from the serrations along the edge and smiled.  She was good at this. There would be absolutely nothing left when she had finished.
Doreen just adored blue steak!


Helen took a deep breath and prepared to explain it again. Her fiancé was looking at her with a strange expression: slightly confused and slightly annoyed.
“This has nothing to do with women’s lib and equality. I’m just not going to take your name when we’re married.
“I refuse to be known as Helen Highwater!”


Jim looked at the tiny packet on the table in front of him that held so much hope. It was hard to believe that his future might rely on it. Now he was unemployed he might starve if he could not make the seeds grow. He pushed them into the soil and crossed his fingers.


Dad coughed and sat back with a worried look.
He enjoyed the turkey, perfectly roasted and surrounded with beautifully browned potatoes, parsnips, sausages, cranberry sauce and herby stuffing.
Then came the dreamy pudding, with brandied flames and a choice of rum butter or cream.
But nobody warned him about the sixpence – and he’d swallowed it!

There was something furtive in the way he moved through the house, edging carefully around furniture, stepping noiselessly. The woman was oblivious to his approach, peeling vegetables at the sink as he crept behind her. Then he made his move. 

“Surprise! Happy birthday Darling,” he announced, as he produced a bouquet from behind his back. 

Wedding

It was a wedding and everyone was supposed to be happy, weren’t they? But she knew

the real truth behind all of it. She knew what the guy was really like – but would she tell? She’d hurt a lot of people if she did.

The vicar was saying: “Speak now, or forever hold your peace…..”

August 2012

Impress me

You want to impress me?  Bring me flowers. Not boring roses but bright daffodils. Clove-scented pinks. Feed me well. French bread, salty butter, crisp salad leaves. Fresh crab and a bottle of bone dry Chablis. Follow it with a good blue cheese; Roquefort with pears, and a glass of fine port. Read me Walt Whitman. 

June 2011

Remote

There are hundreds of channels on my new TV service, Internet access through my television, movies on demand and even a place where I can showcase photographs.  I can programme it to record favourites and watch them back while it records two more stations at the same time. 

If only I could understand the remote. 

June 2011

Antivivisection

“Don’t be stupid”, the man in the white coat said, “They’re just dumb animals. They don’t matter and they can’t possibly understand what we’re doing to them.”

But  X19108 was born in the laboratory and had seen his mother, his sister and friends suffer at this man’s hands. And he’d learned how a hypodermic worked. 

August 2011

Online dating

Keely was flattered when Mike asked to be her friend online. He’d seen her photo and thought she was pretty. Yeah, yeah, she could hear teachers and her mum warning her about strangers, but he wasn’t a stranger was he? She’d seen his photo. But she wondered why his dad had come to meet her.

June 2011

Bloodstain

It all began with a stain on the bathroom floor. Smeared and ill-defined, but, unmistakeably, it was blood. A trail of gory prints led from the red puddle, downstairs and into the kitchen. What kind of horror was I about to find?

Another battered field mouse corpse.

I wish my cats weren’t such keen hunters.  

July 2011

Listen

Listen.

How many times do you say that

to others?

And how often do you think

they really do?

But are you guilty of hearing your own words

and thinking that you’ve heard theirs too?

Have you really listened?

Have you really heard?

Sometimes a little silence

can hold a thousand words.

Listen.

Just listen.

9/12/2010