Tag Archives: #Blog

A Tiny Vignette

Do You Read These If They Don’t Have A Picture?

‘Plinketty-Plonketty’ Peter Penquite (the second ‘e’ of which is pronounced thus giving it the full three-syllables of silliness – ‘Pen-Kwit-e’) was, shall we say – yes, let’s – quite pernickety.


Well, that’s a story for a post far longer than this one.


#SoCS – it’s almost a real blog!

So, here is my ten minute spiel for Saturday the 25th of Augustinius.

Been photographing butterflies in the garden today (not what I should have been doing, obviously) and took some stunning (to my mind) pictures.

Have had such pleasure from the bees and butterflies on the Buddliea – lots of bees (and bs).

The sky has been a mixture of cloud, dark cloud and clear blue sky – and we are getting a mixture of warmth, chill, breeze and it is hard to keep up with the constant changing.

Just popped in for some lunch with Jane and then I shall get back out to try and sort out the problem that we have with water leaking through into the kitchen flooring. The drainage system is not ideal and we may have to think it through as to whether we alter it or just reseal around the drain.

Just one of the things that we have inherited in our lovely cottage home – it is 130 years young and so we expect some areas that will need upkeep as we go.

BTW this is more of an actual blog than I normally do – any good?

Not so much of the madness that normally ensues when I put thumbs to screen.

Oh, well, I shall have to say fare thee well and adios for now mon amigos.

Here’s to next time when we can travel with the words once more.


PS the t*imer hasn’t gone off yet.

*the timer went off here.

Upon the naming of the band (it is important to get that right; otherwise there may be troubles ahead)

A garage band - but, not 'the' garage band in question.

A garage band – but, not ‘the’ garage band in question.

The band are looking for a new name. They have tried several monikers and none of them seemed to identify with the style of the band – not that a ‘style’ was easily identifiable with the band either. They spent three days as ‘Toe-Jam’ and decided that was just gross; half-an-hour as ‘Four Blonde Nuns’ until they found out there already was a band locally called that. They thought of using their initials (like ABBA) and when Andy, Barry, Bill and Aidy tried they decided that maybe that idea wouldn’t work for them.
At the moment they are choosing weekly names (which is good on the one hand and bad on the other) and this week they are going under the rock name of ‘Just Add Walter’ which was Bill’s idea of funny. Next week the name-in-waiting is ‘Dublin’s Irish Quarter’ which is courtesy of Andy.
They may get around to writing some songs somewhen soon; but, as of now, they are just going for getting the name right.

Updates to follow.

From ‘A Walk in the New Forest’ – 08-08-2015


In the cool of the shade
And the relative silence of the glade
Along paths newmade
By us
We recharge
Our selves.

Amongst the trees
With subtle breeze
And a pace of ease
Just so
We wander

A lone Mistlethrusslewotsit
Chirps plaintively
From an unseen perch
Asking…?Warning…? Just happy to be…?
Perhaps seeking another Mistlethrusslewotsit
To join her
In her ullulations.

A destinied silver vehicle
Flashes across the blue
First heard, then seen, then…
A gradual diminution of her…
I think they were all at the windows
Looking down upon the glory
Of the morning forest;
They are not as lucky as us
Walking here.

A hunting horn is heard
But, only in my mind
This one is from nigh
A thousand years ago
And the sound
Has only just reached me.

The ‘clip-clop-clip!’
Of a three-legged horse rider
(I jest, as I cannot see either,
And if either had three legs
I would be a little surprised)
Anyway the sound
helps me to route
Our way away
From them
As the dogs are still young
And I am not.

We reach the barely moving stream
They plunge and slurp
I watch and smile
They cool their paws
And slake their thirst
The sleepy river keeps us a while.

I capture moments
In words and film
To replay when
I am stuck within
Four walls
No trees
No comforting,
Companionable breeze.
I laugh and grin
At the pups’ games
Chasing round, across the bridge,
Through shallows;
Making waves.

A dragonfly flits atop the water
Too fleet of wing
To be captured by my lens
Its hues glimmering
As it wends upon its way.

We walk alongside the stream
Not rowing, not even gently
And life is but a dream.
Or so the song says,
And then we return to the forest walk.

And we walk for a goodly time
With few words between us
As we embrace the joy of our trek.

And I sense this is a good forest;
Not a Mirkwood or a Garroting Deep
As I have read
An old forest
Gainsaying the name
But a kindly one
To me
A Narnian forest
In good times
I expect to meet a Mr Tumnus
But, sadly, don’t.

“Walking in the forest
Walking back and forth
Walking East then walking west
Then I’m walking…
Lost in the forest
Walking back and forth
Trying to get out of here
But, just walking back and forth!”

Just a made up song

As of yet.

I know. As it’s morning
Sun rises in the East
So depending on where the sun is…
It’s 11:54 and the Sun is high above
The direction I need the least is up
Even when push comes to shove.
But, my sense of where I am
Does lead me on
And soon we’re at the stream again
As I knew we would be
My doubts which grew are gone.

Walking back on my last legs,
Sorry, ‘the’ last leg of our walk in the forest
We have all had a work out
And no harm has befallen us
I’m sure we will all be pleased
To get back to see Home.

Monday Morning Train Station Blog no. 1


Just another Monday morning
Nothing to fuss about
No troubles ahead
Nothing but blue skies
And not ‘too’ hot.

So, I’m sat on the bench at the railway station once more. A week’s work is ahead of me and I am fashionably early for the train. It is quiet to a degree and I am the first one here for the Waterloo service (not a euphemism) stopping at Southampton, Southampton Airport (Parkway), Eastleigh, and so on.

Distant seagulls are busy practicing for a Wagnerian opera performance; whilst freight and early commuters are droning along the nearby A35 creating a continuous band of FM road noise.
It is quite chill and still the day retains an element of the night. The sky is a blanket of one shade of the colour grey, it may be that there is not a cloud in the sky – we must wait and see, it could just be awaiting the starter-motor of the Sun to give it a blue blush.

“Welease, Wodewick!” (or ‘Wodewina!’)

From a cardboard box to freedom!

From a cardboard box to freedom!

We travelled the four or five miles necessary into the New Forest before we considered where we would welease W. Then we travelled a few more as we didn’t want to upset the picnickers in our first choice spot. We eventually (3 mins later) found the ideal place and W was soon to be seen (then not seen) in a wood-stack (if it ‘was’ a girl rat, we may have chosen this moment to rechristened her Joni Mitchell Rat – but, we didn’t) “Bythe time we got to Woodstack…”

Anyway, we have released W and mission Welease Wat was successful.

We we hope that the new home is acceptable; and have put in place. Mechanism for forwarding mail.

Enjoy your Sunday adventures, as we have enjoyed ours G & J 🙂

PS just have to explain to Rosie-Cat where W went to (but, not the exact location, obviously)

Land of Wood – Woodlands, New Forest – an ‘actual’ Blog!


The New Forest

isn’t that new

it’s been around for quite a number of centuries

and we are very lucky to live so close to it.

The pups (still they are pups) enjoyed their walk there today

They were thrilled (but, not so you’d notice) to be the stars of our first ‘Periscope’ online broadcast. Eleven and a half minutes of them being cute and tireless in their pursuit of… something; whilst I tried to keep them in shot and avoid tripping over; disappearing into a muddy swamp or being ‘nutted’ by a low-hanging branch.

The battery on my phone only allowed Eleven and a half minutes or I would have gone on for ages with my inane comments, silly jokes, puffing & wheezing, etc. as I tried to be David Attentionborough.

Anyway, I survived the ordeal and, during the broadcast (which was viewed by (possibly) dozens of people, managed to spot a ‘Hello!’ And a comment of ‘Clever dogs!’ All of which leads me to consider the possibility of it almost being a near success.

And, come to think of it, this is actually the nearest I’ve come to doing an ‘actual’ ‘blog’ in all the years I’ve been posting – whoot!

So, I have now told you of my escapades with Vega and Haiku this afternoon. Hope you weren’t too bored with my spiel – it’s definitely a different and interesting process when compared to writing and posting a poem (which I have been known to do from time to time)

It’s good to share.


Easy like, it’s Saturday Morning – almost a Blog

Drummer = big hit as he has a big kit.

Drummer = big git as he has a big kit.

When your head is banging
Like there is a bad drummer inside it, And he’s rehearsing for his first (and only) gig.
Thumpety-thump, thumpety-thump-thump!
And if I meet him later he will surely get a frosty reception from me
And will know where his drumsticks did go.

Anyway, the day may be quiet,
But that emphasises every noise that ever there was – it’s no picnic, I can tell you…
But, I shall whisper these written words
Because even their silent rustling is like a heard (yup, heard) of cattle passing by.

I did the coffee thing – managed to pour cold water on the granules and then had to nuke the bejesus out of the result. Now, I have to wait as the coffee is 3 degrees hotter than the hottest temperature known to Man. Pour me.

It’s a Saturday, Samedi same crud, no, not true, lots of good stuff soon;
When this hangover (from life, I don’t really drink) eases off a bit.

This was going to be a poem…
It’s not.
You may have noticed that.
I will poeticise lyrically later – maybe.
For now, you have a baddish (ting) bloggish blog yow thing that says little, does less, and goes nowhere.

Thank you for reading.
If you have read, please put:

‘Shhhhh… quiet, please!’

In the comments.
Thank you


A Pasta-Present for the Future – a sad tale.


A pasta-present for the future.

The pasta-making machine was a brilliant idea
And as brilliant ideas can be totally useless…
This one was.
Nothing wrong with the machine itself;
Just the idea that ‘somebody’ would want to ‘make’ their own pasta
When it is so inexpensive and handy to buy any of the myriad shaped, sized and coloured pastas in the local Supermarket.
It was a thoughtful gift
But, now it is gathering dust
And rust (possibly)
In a dark cupboard somewhere –
The sort of place where dreams go to slowly fade away.