Tuesday 30 June 2009

Portrait of Words # 11

This writing challenge has changed. Originally Jeff (A Word in Edgewise) started up this monthly challenge, derived from a previous challenge from R.E.H.'s "Picture Fiction Challenge", but Jeff has given it up and Dr. John (Dr. John's Fortress) and Thom (Thom's Place 4 Well Whatever) have taken over. The challenge is now weekly and you can get all the details here, where you can also pick up the links to read all the entries. Do pop over and read, you won't be disappointed.

I'm not sure I will be doing this every week but I will when the mood takes me.    Anyway here's my entry for this week.

Jack Milne picked up the loop end of the rope and tossed it to the boy standing on the dock.

Jack had been the drummer in a very successful rock band in the 60’s. He’d been into it all drugs, sex, wild parties but it just all became too much, after 10 years at the top he was burnt out.

Deciding he’d had enough, whilst the band were still at their peak, he walked away with a shedload of money. He had always been astute where money was concerned and had invested wisely. When he quit the music business he had started his own construction company, building it up as a reliable company that offered great service at reasonable prices. He wasn’t bothered about making lots more money, he had enough, he just wanted to do something useful and could often be found on site in his hard hat.

Jack’s willingness to get his hands dirty made him very popular with his employees and consequently he had a hardworking, loyal workforce, this contributed to the success of his company and within ten years he was a multi-millionnaire.

Personal happiness had eluded Jack. For all his success in the band and his business he had never found anyone special to share his life with. There had been girls, of course, but the one girl he really loved when he had been with the band couldn’t stand all the hype and had ditched him, she wasn’t interested in his money.

For the next thirty years travelling became Jack’s only vice and he was now mooring his boat in Göcek harbour, Turkey, a place he hadn’t visited before. Walking round the harbour he came across a little café called ‘Sweet Sue’s’ where he decided to sit outside and enjoy a coffee.

A pretty young Greek girl took his order and delivered it quickly. Jack was intrigued as to the café’s name summising that the owner wasn’t Greek and asked the girl what the situation was. The girl spoke really good English, which wasn’t surprising when she explained that the owner was not only English but also her mother. “Ah, I see” said Jack and proceeded to chat with the girl.

Jack was moored in Göcek for a week and visited the café every morning for coffee, taking time to chat with Güsde, the young waitress. On his last in Göcek he called at Sweet Sue’s for his coffee and was taken aback when a young boy served him. He asked where Güsde was but the boy said he didn’t know, then he disappeared inside. Minutes later a woman came out of the café and stopped at his table asking “Why are you asking after my daughter?”

Looking up at the woman Jack removed his sunglasses and stared at her. The woman in turn stared at Jack.

“What are you doing here?” they both asked together.

Neither the woman, Sue, nor Jack couldn’t believe after thirty years they would come face to face again. Sue was a widow with a daughter now, Jack was the free agent he always was and the spark was still there!

Monday 29 June 2009

Never too late......

Our youngest son got a place at University studying for a Law Degree at Huddersfield University when he was 18 but ‘dropped out’ after about sixteen months and joined the working classes instead. We, as parents, were very disappointed but as long as he was prepared to work and not be a drain on society we backed his decision and he never let us down.

Fourteen years later, at the age of 32 with a partner and two children, he decided he wanted to study again and get his Law Degree and with the blessing of his partner, who offered to work all the hours God sends to keep the family whilst he studies, he secured at place at University to do just that.

He had to really sell himself at the interview to secure the place, the tutor suggested it would be better if he did an Access Course as he would find studying difficult after fourteen years of doing none. Son would have none of it – “it’s a place on the course or I do it through the Open University” he told the tutor. The tutor finally relented and said “he’d take a chance on him” and so last September he started the four year Law Degree course. His first two years are at Oldham, which is just one of the three campuses attached to Huddersfield University, which is where he was originally a student.

He completed all four modules of the first year exams last month and got 4 A’s therefore passing with flying colours and the tutor who was, at first, hesitant about his entry to the course told him he was Oldham’s best performing student. Not only that, he has also received a letter from the Head of Law telling him he is to be awarded the prize for the Best Year 1 student out of all three campuses!

We are so proud of him, he’s worked really hard and we’re also thankful to his partner, who has worked equally as hard to keep the family whilst he is studying thus enabling him to fulfil his dream.

Well done son!

Saturday 27 June 2009

Saturday Wordzzle # 69

The idea is, every week Raven (Views From Raven's Nest) gives you between 8 and 10 words/phrases and you have to create a small but coherent paragraph using every one of them and the same with the mini challenge. You can do either, both or a megawordzzle using all the words, or even all three, it's up to you, you can post them on your blog or email them to Raven. If you join in go to Raven's and put your name on the Mr. Linky so other participants can come visit you.

Here's my efforts, complete with my doodles.

This Week's Ten Word Challenge is: Chorus line, clam chowder, apples, jack-in-the-box, puddles, Iran, quarry, housekeeping, speed, letter

Iran Mendelsholme had just enjoyed a dish of clam chowder at ‘The Jack In The Box’ diner when he noticed a young woman speed jumping over puddles in the road, which he thought resembled a quarry because of all the pot holes. He opened his briefcase and took out the letters he had received responding to his advertisement. He had decided to hold the interviews here in the diner and suspected that the young woman was one of the applicants. She looked like a chorus line girl he thought but one shouldn’t judge a book by it’s cover he admonished himself, he wouldn’t prejudge her.

Entering the diner the young woman looked around then walked over to Iran and introduced herself “Mr Mendelsholme? I’m Becky Apples, I’m here about the housekeeping job” she said, thrusting out a hand. He liked Becky straight away, much prettier than his last housekeeper, who was now buried in the cellar of his house.

For the mini challenge: motorcycle, grandiose, summer, flying off the handle, blue jays

Mike was the leader of the ‘Blue Jaysmotorcycle gang. One minute he was making grandiose gestures like buying them all new leathers the next he was flying off the handle about something and nothing but one thing was sure he made their summer fun and exciting with his madcap ways.


Carol ‘Blue’ Jays was flying off the handle in her usual grandiose way, so full of her own self importance like she was the star of the show instead of a member of the chorus line. She shared a house with Tania and Anita who had asked her, politely, if she wouldn’t mind tidying up her things. Carol informed them she didn’t ‘do housekeeping’ as she flounced out.

Tania and Anita found Carol infuriating they were forever picking up after her but the three had been friends since University and had a lot of fun together. It was they who had christened Carol ‘Blue’ because of her surname. Carol was a bit of a mystery, they never knew where she’d be or what she did, she was very vague about where she got all her money but they had their suspicions. They’d tried to pump her for information but she wouldn’t tell them anything, she would just touch the side of her nose and say “That’s for me to know”.

Carol was like a jack-in-the-box, up one minute, down the next, the girls never really knew where they were up to with her, which was really annoying but she was a great cook, her clam chowder was to die for. “There’s apples in it” Carol informed them when they asked how she made it, “it’s an old family recipe”.

A letter arrived and Carol packed her suitcase. “I’m off for the summer” she told them “expect me when you see me and take care of Puddles”, meaning her cat.

They didn’t hear from her again. Six weeks later her parents came to collect her belongings and told them she had been found dead in a quarry in Iran with a motorcycle next to her. They didn’t have an explanation except the police thought she had been travelling at speed on the bike and careered off the road.

Some months later the girls were moving out of the house and found a photograph that had slipped down the back of one of drawers that Carol had used in the bedroom. The photograph was of Carol and a good looking, dark skinned man and there was some writing on the back which said

“Here’s to the next mission!”

“Whatever could it mean? Who was the man? What had really happened to Carol?” the girls asked each other.

Now’s your chance to finish the story – what are your answers to these questions?

Friday 26 June 2009

Friday 55 Flash Fiction # 81 Marked

The weather was sweltering.

104 degrees and rising.

People were looking at him, but then he was the only one not wearing shorts.

The sweat poured off him but he didn't have a choice.

He had to keep his legs covered or they would know his secret, they'd spot

the electronic tag on his ankle.

Friday 55 Flash Fiction is brought to you by G-man (Mr Knowitall). The idea is you write a story in exactly 55 words. If you want to take part pop over and let G-man know when you've posted your 55.

I'm off on another little jaunt today so I will catch up with you all over the weekend - have a good one!

Tuesday 23 June 2009

Lovely Blog.....

Well it's been a while since I received an award but the lovely Thom at

Thoms Place 4 Well Whatever

has bestowed this one on me....

Like all awards it comes with rules:

1. Accept the award, post it on your blog together with the name of the person who has granted the award and his or her blog link.
2. Pass the award to 15 other blogs that you have newly discovered. Remember to contact the bloggers to let them know they have been chosen for this award.

So I pass this award on to the following who I have only recently got to know:

Spiky Zora Jones (Bit Player Reflects)

Cloudia (Comfort Spiral)

Fandango (Dragon's Lair)

If you haven't already, go have a read of all those great blogs.

Also Mike at Rambling Stuff gave me this little beauty- The Best Follower Award!

Of course it comes with rules:
Put this Award in a post on your blog
Invite 10 people to take this award
Don’t forget to link back to the person that gave this award to you.
Let them know that they have received this award by commenting on their blog
Share the love to those who get this award.

Mike was awarded this by Sandee who gave it to her top 10 commenters, so Mike did the same and I'm going to do the same too. So please will the following please accept this award with my thanks for reading my drivel and commenting so regularly.

Ron (Vent)
Bee (Muffin 55)

I hope you will all accept the awards and pass them on but of course it's not compulsory, just know that I appreciate you all.

Monday 22 June 2009

Grandmas, Grandads and Grandkids......

I received this by email and it made me laugh so much I just had to share it with you.

1. She was in the bathroom, putting on her makeup, under the watchful eyes of her young granddaughter, as she'd done many times before. After she applied her lipstick and started to leave, the little one said, "But Granma, you forgot to kiss the toilet paper good-bye!" I will probably never put lipstick on again without thinking about kissing the toilet paper good-bye...

2. My young grandson called the other day to wish me Happy Birthday. He asked me how old I was, and I told him, sixty two. My grandson was quiet for a moment, and then he asked, "Did you start at one?"

3. After putting her grandchildren to bed, a grandmother changed into old slacks and a droopy blouse and proceeded to wash her hair. As she heard the children getting more and more out of control, her patience grew thin. Finally, she threw a towel around her head and stormed into their room, putting them back to bed with stern warnings. As she left the room, she heard the three-year-old say with a trembling voice, "Who was THAT?"

4. A grandmother was telling her little granddaughter what her own childhood was like: "We used to skate outside on a pond I had a swing made from a tyre; it hung from a tree in our front yard. We rode our pony. We picked wild raspberries in the woods." The little girl was wide-eyed, taking this all in. At last she said, "I sure wish I'd got to know you sooner!"

5. My grandson was visiting one day when he asked, "Grandma, do you know how you and God are alike?" I mentally polished my halo and I said, "No, how are we alike?'' "You're both old," he replied.

6. A little girl was diligently pounding away on her grandfather's word processor. She told him she was writing a story. "What's it about?" he asked. "I don't know," she replied. "I can't read."

7. I didn't know if my granddaughter had learned her colours yet, so I decided to test her. I would point out something and ask what colour it was. She would tell me and was always correct. It was fun for me, so I continued. At last, she headed for the door, saying, "Grandma, I think you should try to figure out some of these, yourself!"

8. When my grandson Billy and I entered our vacation cabin, we kept the lights off until we were inside to keep from attracting pesky insects. Still, a few fireflies followed us in. Noticing them before I did, Billy whispered, "It's no use Grandpa. Now the mosquitoes are coming after us with torches."

9. When my grandson asked me how old I was, I teasingly replied, "I'm not sure." "Look in your underwear, Grandpa," he advised, "mine says I'm 4 to 6."

10. A second grader came home from school and said to her grandmother, "Grandma, guess what? We learned how to make babies today.." The grandmother, more than a little surprised, tried to keep her cool. "That's interesting," she said, "how do you make babies?" "It's simple," replied the girl. "You just change 'y' to 'i' and add 'es'."

11.. Children's Logic: "Give me a sentence about a public servant," said a teacher. The small boy wrote: "The fireman came down the ladder pregnant." The teacher took the lad aside to correct him. "Don't you know what pregnant means?" she asked. "Sure," said the young boy confidently. 'It means carrying a child."

12.. A grandfather was delivering his grandchildren to their home one day when a fire engine zoomed past. Sitting in the front seat of the fire truck was a Dalmatian dog. The children started discussing the dog's duties. "They use him to keep crowds back," said one child. "No," said another. "He's just for good luck." A third child brought the argument to a close."They use the dogs," she said firmly, "to find the fire hydrants."

13. A 6-year-old was asked where his grandma lived. "Oh," he said, "she lives at the airport, and when we want her, we just go get her. Then, when we're done having her visit, we take her back to the airport."

14. Grandpa is the smartest man on earth! He teaches me good things, but I don't get to see him enough to get as smart as him!

15. My Grandparents are funny, when they bend over, you hear gas leaks, and they blame their dog.

Saturday 20 June 2009

Lottery win............

No ‘begging’ comments please – I haven’t won!

Following on from my Flash Fiction yesterday, I think everyone has a dream of winning the lottery. For one British couple that came true recently.

Brian Caswell 73 and his wife Joan 71, from Bolton in Lancashire about 11 miles away from where I live, won half of the £50m jackpot on the Euromillions – that’s £25m! !!!!

Can you imagine winning that much money? Well yes of course we can all imagine it, but how do you really think you’d cope if you actually won it?

If you were still working it would make a huge difference to your life – you’d never have to work again, unless you wanted to of course, but who would? Retired – you’d never have to worry about whether your pension was enough to live on.

Apparently Mr & Mrs Caswell has two daughters and four grandchildren, I would imagine their money situation will never cause them a sleepless night ever again.

If you won such a huge amount of money how would you decide how much to give to your family? Would you draw the line at close family or would you include aunts, uncles, cousins? Would you give money to friends?

Once you’d ‘treated’ all those you wanted to, what would you do then? Would you buy a house, car, boat, holiday home, what? Would you travel the world staying in the best hotels? Would you just invest the money and live off the interest?

Would it change your life for the better? It would definitely change mine and the lives of all the people I love!

Tell me in your comment what you’d do with a win like that.

P.S. No wordzzles today, I just wasn’t inspired at all!

Friday 19 June 2009

Friday 55 Flash Fiction # 80 One Good Turn..

The old man blinked, vaguely recongising the boy from the shopping precinct.

"This is for you" the boy handed him a cheque for £5000

"What's this for?" he asked

"To thank you" replied the boy smiling.

"Remember when you gave me £2 last week?

Well I spent £1 on a lottery ticket and won £50,000".

Friday 55 Flash Fiction is brought to you by G-man (Mr Knowitall). The idea is you write a story in exactly 55 words. If you want to take part pop over and let G-man know when you've posted your 55.

Wednesday 17 June 2009

Another jaunt........

Our latest jaunt was another train trip, this time to Aberystwyth in Wales, with our good friends K & T – we like trains can you tell?

K & T

We picked the train up at our local station at 7.45 a.m. on Saturday morning and the weather looked promising. We took a bag full of food with us for our lunch and tea on the train, consisting of chicken, ham, pasta salad, green salad, ciabatta and wine of course. We were in First Class carriages so were very comfortable and had a huge picture window which enabled us to take in the beautiful countryside and the ever improving weather on the journey. We didn’t stop talking all the way to Wales – about what we would do when we got there, what trips were coming up that we have booked and could book.

The trip was organised by the Class 40 Preservation Society, who preserve Diesel Engines, we prefer Steam Engines but beggars can’t be choosers and it was a nice red and yellow engine.

We arrived in Aberystwyth spot on time at 12.40 p.m.and were able to leave our packed tea on the train whilst we went walkabout. We headed out of the station straight down to the sea front. The weather was glorious, sunny and hot, and we really didn’t need the light jackets we’d taken with us.

The first thing we saw as the train pulled in to Aberystwyth Station was the Vale of Rheidol narrow guage railway. The Preservation Society were offering trips on it but we declined as we wouldn't have had time to go on that and walk down to the sea. We did get a photo of it though.

We really wanted to go for a paddle in the sea but the only things we hadn’t brought with us was a towel and the kitchen sink!

However, we did breathe in plenty of the wonderful sea air and took a long, leisurely walk along the prom past the university (or a small part of it).

Part of Aberystwyth University

Isn’t it wonderful to have a university right on the sea front? K’s nephew is a student at the university and we were hoping to meet up with him but unfortunately he was a home in the town we’d just departed from and wasn’t due back in Aberystwyth until we were due to leave – sod’s law! Anyway we rounded the headland intending to walk to the harbour but it was a lot further that we had originally thought so we didn’t bother.

After a leisurely stroll through the town we stopped at a pub and went in for a drink and a rest – the early start and the sea air had practically knocked us out! The pub was empty, except for us, then suddenly it was invaded by a ‘hen’ party – all dressed in pink tutus and leg warmers!

Things suddenly got very noisy and we were missing the sunshine so we decided to go to another pub across the way where we could sit outside, which we did, enjoying the beautiful weather until it was time to get back on the train. We were only actually in Aberystwyth three hours but we made the most of it and thoroughly enjoyed it.

Our journey back was very relaxed, we ate our packed tea and had some more wine etc and even managed a little snooze. The Preservation Society arranged a raffle on the journey home with 12 really good prizes but unfortunately we didn’t win any.

We arrived at our home station at 9.15 p.m. in plenty of time to walk to our local pub and finish the day off with a couple of drinks before we went home to a much needed bed. We were exhausted but we’d had a fantastic day and are now looking forward to our next train trip, which I think is in August but I’ll tell you more about that when we’ve been.

Us making our way to the pub from the station.

Monday 15 June 2009

Portrait of Words # 10

Jeff (A Word in Edgewise POW) has started up this monthly challenge, derived from a previous challenge from R.E.H.'s "Picture Fiction Challenge". Do pop over to Jeff's to read the other entries, you won't be disappointed. You can get the portraits for this month's challenge here.

Jeff says the rules this month are:

In case any of you have wondered why each month the layout of our Portrait of Words challenge changes I thought I'd let you know. In an effort to keep this writing challenge interesting, some months I'll give you categories for the photos such as a "purpose", "backdrop" and so forth, while other times it will be more of a free form challenge. Hopefully, this will keep things from becoming stagnant. As always, you are welcome to offer any suggestions you may have . Leave a note in the comment section or email me.This month we have four photos from which to create a story and I'm asking that you include each photo within some part of your story. Easy peasy right?

Here's my story:

Aimee Farrell sat on the chair in the corner of the room and closed her eyes. She really didn’t want to go through all this but she must.

The story unfolded.

She had been 18, flushed with pride at having passed her exams and was taking a gap year before starting a Languages Degree at Cambridge University. Her plan was to travel round Europe before having to work her socks off at Uni, get a job and hopefully get married and start a family. That was her future, this was now

Her parents were very supportive and had given her the proceeds of an endowment policy they’d taken out on her when she was a baby, which had just matured. £3000 would pay her air fare to Paris and make things easy for her until she found some work, she wanted to work so she could keep some of the three grand for a rainy day.

She was a pretty girl, forever changing the colour of her hair, wearing colourful clothes and never without her Ipod full of the latest music. She would be travelling with her best friend Jackie so her parents weren’t too worried, they were sensible girls. The night before they embarked on their trip their parents took them out for a Chinese meal at their favourite restaurant and joked that it may be the last decent meal either of them would be getting for a while so to help themselves to more spring rolls.

Amidst hugs, kisses and farewells at the airport the two of them gathered up their rucksacks and were eager to board the plane to Paris, their first destination, promising to keep in touch via internet cafes wherever they could and telephone, reversing the charges of course.

Things went well, they found work in cafes and fruit picking so were able to conserve their initial funds. They had a great time seeing different places and meeting wonderful new people, picking up the language of whatever country they were in easily. They arrived in Amsterdam and found cheap accommodation in a bedsit over a sex shop. The girls who plied their trade in the shop below were all friendly and they looked out for the two teenagers from England. They had such fun in Amsterdam riding round on bicycles like everyone else. One time she had got a bright yellow bicycle with a basket on the front in which she carried a pot plant of chrysanthemums and hadn’t wanted to give it back. She vowed to get a bicycle just like it when they eventually got back home, she could see herself riding round Cambridge on it.

All was going well until one night when Jackie had gone out on a date with a Dutch boy she’d met, leaving her alone. She decided to stay in and read and listen to music. “Go and enjoy yourself Jackie, I’ll be fine, see you when you get back and you can tell me all about it” she said.

It was gone midnight, she was sitting looking out of the window listening to her Ipod and watching the people coming and going on the street, she didn’t hear the door open or see the man enter the room. Somehow the girls downstairs hadn’t seen him open the door to the stairs that led to their room, they were usually so watchful. What followed was her worst nightmare. The man was drunk and without any preamble he grabbed her and forced her onto one of the beds. She screamed of course but the streets were lively with tourists and the girls were busy downstairs so no-one heard her. When Jackie returned she found her beaten and bleeding and was in a state of shock. Jackie called for the girls downstairs who got her to the hospital and stayed with her whilst Jackie contacted her parents. Within two days she was back home in her familiar bedroom but now she needed counselling to help her face going back to see the man responsible for the attack in court. He’d been so drunk he’d passed out in the room.

Aimee sighed deeply and said “Well my dear, now you have opened up about it, things will get easier you know. Another few sessions would help you I’m sure. Shall we say the same day and time next month?”

It was difficult listening to other people’s problems but Aimee Farrell was a counsellor and that’s what counsellors do.

Saturday 13 June 2009

Saturday Wordzzle # 67

The idea is, every week Raven (Views From Raven's Nest) gives you between 8 and 10 words/phrases and you have to create a small but coherent paragraph using every one of them and the same with the mini challenge. You can do either, both or a megawordzzle using all the words, or even all three, it's up to you, you can post them on your blog or email them to Raven. If you join in go to Raven's and put your name on the Mr. Linky so other participants can come visit you.

Here's my efforts, complete with my doodles.

This Week's Ten Word Challenge is: nausea, everything is on sale, expect great things, frying pan, pledge, birds of a feather, stick, Saturday morning, liver and bacon, caterpillars

“I expect great things this Saturday morning” said the store manager. “Everything is on sale from walking sticks to frying pans and we must all do our bit, like birds of a feather and all that you know. I give you my pledge if we sell everything today I’ll treat you all to liver and bacon for lunch at the café.”

That was a promise guaranteed to make everyone nauseas and ensure they were as slow as caterpillars when it came to selling the stock!

For the mini challenge: aggravation, protective, bargain basement, take me out to the ballgame, break a leg

“I’m stuck here, in this bargain basement of an apartment, day after day with nothing but aggravation from the neighbours. Trust you to break a leg when you promised to take me out to the ballgame” she said, putting a protective hand over her stomach and her growing child. “You’re a waste of space” she said. She got no response; he wasn’t listening – as usual!


It was Saturday morning and he was having a lie-in, after being out with the lads the night before, when he’d heard her rattling the frying pan on the cooker and the smell of liver and bacon assaulted his nostrils waking him with a feeling of nausea. Then Carrie was shouting him for him to get up.

“You promised to take me out to the ballgame and shopping first, everything is on sale at the mall and it’s not bargain basement stuff either!” she called.

When Carrie agreed to his night out with the boys she said “OK but I expect great things in return!” and of course he’d agreed, anything to avoid aggravation. He didn’t mind going to the ballgame, but shopping was his penance.

The night out had gone down well, they’d gone on a pub crawl and ended up at a club, after which he didn’t remember a lot. He opened one eye and scanned the room; he was in the spare bedroom so he wouldn’t have disturbed Cassie when he came in. He threw the covers back and tried to swing his legs out of bed, only to find one leg wouldn’t move. Looking down he was amazed to see his right leg encased in plaster! “What the f….?” he said to himself. How on earth had that happened, he couldn’t remember a damned thing. Picking up his mobile phone he dialled Gary’s number.

“Gary, what the hell happened last night, how did I manage to break a leg?” he asked.

“I didn’t know you’d broken your leg mate, you were dancing on a table and fell off and cracked your head so we took you to hospital and left you there” Gary told him.

“Oh thanks a lot, what happened to ‘we have to stick together, birds of a feather’ and all that?” he said.

Well there was nothing for it he’d have to get downstairs and face the music, Cassie would be furious. He grabbed a robe and made his way downstairs like a caterpillar – slowly.

Of course Cassie went berserk and gave him a right ear-bashing; she made his life hell all weekend. He vowed to take the ‘pledge’, no more beer, ever again.

Sunday came and he told Cassie he’d have to ring work and explain he wouldn’t be in.

“No need” said Cassie “I’m going to cut the plaster off!”

“You can’t do that! I know you’re a nurse but my leg won’t have set yet” he told her clutching his plaster protectively.

“You haven’t broken your leg. My friend Jackie was on duty at the hospital when you were brought in drunk and she telephoned me. I told her to get your leg plastered and send you home in a taxi. I hope you’ve learned your lesson!” said Cassie in-between laughing fits.

I'm off on another jaunt so I'll catch up with everyone on Sunday - Have a great weekend.

Friday 12 June 2009

Friday 55 Flash Fiction # 79 Trust Me

She was terrified as he inserted the needle into her arm.

He'd promised her it wouldn't hurt and she would feel great.

She drifted off, feeling pleasantly happy, light and relaxed.

Later, coming back to full consciousness, she was glad she'd trusted him........

The mirror told her the liposuction had worked - her saddlebags had disappeared.

Friday 55 Flash Fiction is brought to you by G-man (Mr Knowitall). The idea is you write a story in exactly 55 words. If you want to take part pop over and let G-man know when you've posted your 55.

I'm out tonight folks and out all day tomorrow so won't have time to visit, but I promise I will catch up on Sunday.  Have a great weekend.

Wednesday 10 June 2009


Someone sent me this and with everything that's going on in our Government at the moment I thought you might like it.

Gordon Brown was visiting a primary school. In one class they were in the middle of a discussion related to words and their meanings. The teacher asked Mr. Brown if he would like to lead the discussion on the word 'tragedy'.So the illustrious leader asked the class for an example of a tragedy.

A little boy stood up and offered: 'If my best friend, who lives on a farm, is playing in the field and a tractor runs over him and kills him, that would be a tragedy'.    No, said Gordon - that would be an accident'.

A little girl raised her hand: 'If a school bus carrying fifty children drove over a cliff, killing everyone inside, that would be a tragedy'.‘I'm afraid not,’ explained Gordon, ‘that's what we would call great loss’.

The room went silent. No other children volunteered. Gordon searched the room. 'Isn't there someone here who can give me an example of a tragedy?'.Finally, at the back of the room, little Johnny raised his hand. In a quiet voice he said 'If a plane carrying you and Mr. Darling was struck by a 'friendly fire' missile and blown to smithereens, that would be a tragedy'.

'Fantastic!' exclaimed Gordon. 'That's right. And can you tell me why that would be tragedy?'.

'Well,' says little Johnny 'it has to be a tragedy, because it certainly wouldn't be a great loss and it probably wouldn't be an accident either'.

Monday 8 June 2009

Love Potion.......

Someone sent this to me, I thought you might like it.

All of you ex-educators and lovers of proper English will appreciate this story.

On his 74th birthday a man received a gift certificate from his wife.  The certificate paid for a visit to a medicine man living on a nearby reservation. The medicine man was rumored to have a wonderful cure for erectile dysfunction. After being persuaded, the man drove to the reservation, handed his ticket to the medicine man, all the time wondering what was to come.   The old medicine man slowly and methodically produced a potion, which he handed to the 74 year-old. With a grip on his shoulder the medicine man warned

“This is powerful medicine and it must be respected. You take only a teaspoonful and then say '1-2-3'. When you do that, you will become manlier than you have ever been in your life and you will be able to perform as long as you want."

The old man was encouraged. As he walked away, he turned and asked "How do I stop the medicine from working?"

"Your partner must say '1-2-3-4'" the medicine man responded. "But when she does the medicine will not work again until the next full moon."

The old man was very eager to see if the potion worked so he went home showered, shaved, took a spoonful of the medicine and then invited his wife to join him in the bedroom. When she came in he took off his clothes and said,


Immediately, he was the manliest of all men.   His wife was excited and began throwing off her clothes…and then she asked,

"What was the 1-2-3 for?"

And that, boys and girls, is why we should never end our sentences with a preposition – or one will end up with a dangling participle!

Saturday 6 June 2009

Saturday Wordzzle # 66

The idea is, every week Raven (Views From Raven's Nest) gives you between 8 and 10 words/phrases and you have to create a small but coherent paragraph using every one of them and the same with the mini challenge. You can do either, both or a megawordzzle using all the words, or even all three, it's up to you, you can post them on your blog or email them to Raven. If you join in go to Raven's and put your name on the Mr. Linky so other participants can come visit you.

Here's my efforts, complete with my doodles.

This Week's Ten Word Challenge is: swashbuckler, heads-up, dry martini, recovery, jungle gym, whiskers, bathing suit, spade, circular reasoning, abrasive

Heads up boys” cried Captain Whiskers as he somersaulted across the deck of the boat in his bathing suit, waving a plastic cutlass in an effort to look like a swashbuckler.

The abrasive boss of the cruise ship told him many times in a round about way that he was just a tad too enthusiastic, but circular reasoning just didn’t have the desired effect, he still used the boat like a jungle gym. Eventually the boss had to call a spade a spade and tell him straight to lay off the dry martini whilst he was working or he would find himself in recovery in the local hospital.

The Mini Challenge: butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, stagnation, chart, star crossed lovers, apricot brandy

Sipping her apricot brandy, looking as though butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, the author of ‘The Star Crossed Lovers’ checked the book chart to find out how her latest novel was doing this week, only to find it was still stagnating at the bottom of the list.


Kitty’s phone rang, it was her friend Jean giving her the heads up about a jungle gym she’d noticed for sale in the local paper, it was a bargain and Kitty had been looking for one for ages to install in the garden for her two kids. Since Ged, her husband, walked out on her and the kids she had become an avid bargain hunter, she had to be, money was tight.

The man at the other end of the telephone seemed rather abrasive but she made a note of the address, which was within walking distance, and said she’d be there about two o’clock to take a look. From his voice she imagined him to be somewhat of an ‘old colonel with huge whiskers’ type and was pleasantly surprised when the door was opened by a good looking man about twenty five. He looked a bit like Errol Flynn Kitty thought, a proper swashbuckler, the sort of man with muscles capable of wielding a spade. Putting on her ‘butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth’ face she made small talk while he led her through the house to the garden to view the gym, all the while trying to convince her with circular reasoning what a bargain it was. He explained that he had not long moved in and the gym was already in the garden but he didn’t have any children so had no use for it. The gym was just what she was looking for and David (the man) kindly offered to deliver and rebuild it in her garden.

“How kind” she simpered in a voice as sweet as apricot brandy.

Kitty wrote down her address and telephone number, the number on the pretence that he may not be able to find the house when really she was hoping he may keep it and ring her in the future for a date.

“I’ll be there about seven” he told her.

Kitty rushed to school to pick the kids up then hurried them home and gave them their tea after which she packed them off to her mother’s for a couple of hours. Taking a quick shower she changed into a dress that resembled a bathing suit it was that brief and quickly tidied her hair and put on some make-up. She just had time to check her astrological chart and pour herself a dry martini for dutch courage before he arrived.

The doorbell rang and Kitty almost fell over her own feet getting to the door. Opening the door with a flourish Kitty put on her sweetest smile which froze on her face.

“Hi, this is my partner Paul” he said introducing the man standing by his side. “He’s come to give me a lift.”

A partner? He’d never mentioned a partner, especially not a male partner!

Making a quick recovery from the shock Kitty showed them to the garden and ran upstairs to throw on a pair of jeans and a sweater.

“Back to stagnation for me” she thought “housework and looking after the kids, I’m never going to meet anyone! We were star crossed lovers, never meant to be.”