Monthly Archives: January 2016

A Nosey Limerick


A Nosey Limerick

Nosey, I am
And Nosey I was
I looks into things
If they’re there – just because!
I pries
With my eyes
You ‘could’ say I spies
But, my excuse is; I’m the Wizard of Oz!

Vive la Pomelo!


We had a Pomelo in our fruit bowl for a while and just didn’t quite know what to do with it. Then we sought a YouTube video (and found the one below) to see if that could be any help. It certainly was. We managed to peel a ripened Pomelo and (even though it was a little fiddly) there was much joy at the eventual prize. Not as tart as a grapefruit; slightly drier than a orange. A lovely fruit. Recommended it is, by us, to you. We buy ours from Lidl at less than a £1 a go. Enjoy. G:)


The Seven Day Challenge to write upon Seven themes: Day 1: Romance

The challenge: each day for seven days is to post a quote under one of the headings below. It can be from a book, a poem, a song, a speech, whatever.
You can (if you wish) nominate someone to also take part in the challenge.

Day 1: Romance; Day 2: Self; Day 3: Hope; Day 4: People; Day 5: Funny; Day 6: Wise; and Day 7: Awesome.

Today I nominate: your good self – yes ‘you’ my reader (unless already under the obligato of already doing this challenge already, already).


NB The above quote is not actually in William Shakespeare’s words (and he never had a typewriter) but, a translation from lines in Verdi’s ‘Falstaff’



Day 1: Romance (as I see it)


The scene: Underneath my Umbrella:

Fitzgerald: It’s a fine romance with no… xxxs
Act 1, Scene i

Mark Antony: Friends, Romance, and Countrymen… lend me your ears.

Fellow in the Forum: Sorry, mate, I’m using mine. Anyway, you’ve got your own – on the side of your head; though it is a bit strange how they’re both on the same side!

Act 2, Scene iii

Timothy son of Cullen: Well met, good cuz. Thou hast taken up thy challenge with a hearty hey and a ho and a nonny nonny no.

Anne of McVeigh: Good cuz, thou hast (hast thou not) the hair on your chin of a fine fellow. Thy challenge, also, thou hast set upon with all the flair of fair Hercules setting about his twelve onerous tasks.

Tim of etc.: Lead on McDuff.

Anne: McVeigh!

Tim: Sorry, good cuz, I am a little of the ale.

Anne: Which is as it should be.

Both: Amen.

Act 3 Scene xiv

All: When shall we three meet again?

Grae: Tomorrow?

All: Murmurs of some discussion and then of general agreement.
All: Tomorrow it is.

Tim: No matter ‘what’ the weather.

Anne: Don’t be a silly sundry fella
We have the providence of my umbrella.

All: Yay!

Act 4 Scene f

Passer-by: But, what has any of this got to with ‘romance?’

All (variously) Oh, yes. Bother! Romance! I’m on ‘people’ (and other utterances).

Passer-by: You’d forgotten about that hadn’t you?

Grae: Fair sir-

Passer-by: Miss!!

Grae: I’m sorry, I have a Parrot Sketch.

Passer-by: Never mind that, my lad; get on with the romance – it’s what the reader wants.

Grae: Singular?

Passer-by: Most likely. All this drivel is fain by choice; I leave you now – farewell by voice. Byeeeee!

Act 5 Scene indigo

The Scene: A fair in fair Verona.

SFX sounds of a far away affair in the fair.

Grae: Hasten we now to an ending
It’s been a journey and no pretending.

Tim: It could be nearly opening time; a little drink would be no crime.

Anne: Fill not your heads with brews of wonder; still of writing you must ideas plunder.

All: All is fair and all is pleasant; let us to the Duck and Pheasant. Let us drink and toast the queen; for a pun is such a wond’rous thing.

Epilogue: in the fair fair city of Verona
Lays a camel one kind owner
Only 50 ducats cost
Useful in the car park when thy vehicle’s lost.

The End

A Love Song (or A Daft Song) – a work in progress



I’ll be the Romeo to your Juliet
The iron railing to your suffragette
I’ll be the Leafy Lane to your Superman
The Political Incorrectness to your Charlie Chan
But, I won’t wake 500 moles
And I won’t wake 500 more

But, I would do almost anything for you,
(Run down to the store and back)
But, I won’t do that!

Meatloaf! Proclaimers! Eat your heart out for those lyrics

An awful lot of nonsense (or a lot of awful nonsense) #nonsense


The bread rose in the East;
And the jelly set in the West;
And I stood between the two of them
In my wholly unholy string-theory vest.

So, I toasted breakfast “Here’s to breakfast!”
And went a bit wobbly right around teatime;
And, in between I shivered my timbers – as any good milliner would.

Sad to say, the day ended and started as it had begun
With the jelly setting and the bread raising
And the Knight riding off with a distressed damson (in distress)…

… as they do.

Thursday – again!


“It should read ‘I ❤️ Day Toast’ “

Yes, viewers, it is Thursday once more. I don’t know why; but, it just keeps on coming around again, and again. Not satisfied with never knowing what the weather is going to be or not to be, we have this never-ending succession of days – and only the seven to choose from – and yet, we have no choice! Every day is in exactly the same place every week. How can this be natural? I don’t believe that we can’t find some new names for the days of the week (and possibly lose the ‘week’ thing altogether!) how about as from tomorrow we have ‘day Azimuth’, then the day after that ‘day Bidet’ followed by ‘day Canteloupé’ and when we get to ‘day Zoology’ we could go backwards to A (otherwise we would just be in a rotational 26-day sequence, and where’s the fun in that!)

Anyway, as I was saying, just before I stopped saying it, which was just now, you remember, it is Thursday – and there is nothing that we can do about it. So enjoy it as best you can because tomorrow is another day…


… I just can’t remember which one it is though…




NB a stream-of-consciousness rant of sorts on ‘Thursday’ – for you – it had to be done.

A Haiku and a Tanka (as time is long)


Time, it has been said,

It is not short, it is long;

I have to agree.


The premise upon

Which this correction was made

was suggested to me

By a hairy man, one day;

His name was John of the Bruce.


If you listen to BBC Radio 4’s Farming Today, this might make sense.


“Cluck! Cluck!”
“Who’s there?”
“Henry who?”
“Henry Homingday!”
“This is my new home – hello, Daddy!”




helpful note:

It was on BBC Radio 4’s Farming Today this morning that 500,000 hens have been rehomed to a good life after they have been producing eggs and eggs and eggs. Good story for them. G:)

A Morning Haiku (as time is short)

Morning is broken:

It wasn’t my fault at all;

It’s just what it does.

A Story About Fighting Dragons (Previous Experience Required)


A Story About Fighting Dragons (Previous Experience Required)

Now, how can I start to begin to think about trying to write about fighting dragons, when I’ve never even met one?

And, anyway, would I fight one if I met one? I’m a pacifist, you know.

Actually, it’s just not PC to fight dragons anymore.

We can barely shadow-box without incurring the wrath of society.

So, if a dragon ‘were’ to be in my vicinity I would be more likely to try and negotiate friendship through my poor grasp of sign-language, than attack it with the pins and needles of anachronistic chivalry.

I wouldn’t last long.