Tag Archives: #prose

“The man with the lamp”

“The man with the lamp”

“Is your name, Florence?”I asked the man

“No.”he said.

“But my mother‘s name was Florence, and me she bred;

I carried her lamp, I carry it still,

I turn it on when the weather is chill,

I warm my hands around the bulb… “

“… nothing much rhymes with ‘bulb’ does it, poet?

You thought you were clever,

coming out in this cold weather;

but, no, you’re not,

you’re such a ‘twonk’

and you can’t even use ‘that’ word as a rhyme for fear of offending somebody!”

By a sad twist of fate…

By a sad twist of fate…

By a sad twist of fate, when Sea Mud was Christened, his chosen name of ‘Seamus’ was poorly written, by the slightly sober priest, as one ‘Sea Mud, son of Kat Twine and Bran Bin O’Really. Generations of O’Reallys, O’Cow Bells, Mac Hines, and the like, had passed through St. Praticks on their way to lives filled with strange looks at bank counters, questioning glances at border crossings, and numerous persnickety questions at a number of official premises – all of which were later followed by the gaiety of Gaelic laughter in local alehouses – at Sea Mud’s, and the others, expense.



If you take a picture of a bird with your phone camera and it doesn’t come out that clear – you have taken a ‘blird’ photo.

When in Cornwall… #1

When in Cornwall… #1

Useful Advice When Visiting the Duchy of Cornwall Nursery Garden Garden Centre Café, Lostwithiel: ‘

Pass the Duchy of Cornwall Leek and Parsnip Drizzle Cake on the Left-Hand Side.’

St. Op. (St. Optimus).

St. Op

St. Op, or St. Optimus, to be correct, is (and was) a little known village a few miles to the North-West of South-East Cornwall; or it may be a few miles to the South-East of North-West Cornwall (one of the two… possibly – other locations are available) and has been little known for over a thousand… years. Not mentioned in the Domesday Book, not Brett’s Peerage, Whittaker’s Almanac, any Copy of the Beano, Dandy or Bunty; St. Op boasts of no famous, curious, or interesting landmarks at all. To be truthful, people have passed through, by, and nowhere near to St. Op without even realising it was there – or caring.

St. Op does, however, have a steadily declining population, estimated at 71 in 1971 and 20 in 2020, although there was a drastic dearth of souls to be counted in the year 2000, but we think that the whole pop. of St. Op may have caught the deadly Millennium Bug, and been cocooned in a nearby hospital (53 miles away) in Truro… or Penzance, or not – whichever answer is likeliest.

Find St. Op on your Ordnance Survey map today, and you will be extremely lucky.

In the little Village of St. Well.

In the little Village of St. Well.

St. Well’s Well was, well, it just was – what more could be said about it?

This. It had always been there. Well, that is for just about as long as anybody knew of the village of St. Well, there had been a St. Well’s Well – it’s almost as if the village had been named after the well itself; although some did say that there had been a St. Well who had lived in the village a long, long time ago – he was rumoured to be a saint, and, some do say, a man of the church.

Not that any sane person would consider taking a drink from the St. Well’s Well, it was barely of a standard to be used for washing clean the narrow roads of Cornwall after the silage tractor had passed by.

But, as ancient monuments go, St. Well’s Well ticked all the boxes; barely accessible, situated well away from any parking, and a bit of a disappointment when you did eventually find somewhere to park, climb down to the hidden wellhead, and take the obligatory ‘selfie’.

At least St. Well had an ancient monument; some Cornish villages have to make do with a George VI postbox.

“Roast Concert Ukulele with Rosemary Parmentier Potatoes, Rainbow Carrots, and a Mixture of Winter Greens. “

“Roast Concert Ukulele with Rosemary Parmentier Potatoes, Rainbow Carrots, and a Mixture of Winter Greens.”

“Please can you tell me what there is upon the menu?” asked Paddington, politely.

“Well…” said the maître d’, “We have a selection of dishes for a delectation of tastes…” he awaited a few moments, to build the suspense. “But, our ‘piece de resistance’ is the ‘Chef’s Special’, which is ‘Roast Concert Ukulele with Rosemary Parmentier Potatoes, Rainbow Carrots, and a Mixture of Winter Greens.’ the maître d’ stood back and awaited an order of the ‘Chef’s Special’ to be received.

“Ummm.” considered Paddington; and polite as ever, he spoke, “Very nice, as I expect that is… have you got anything with… marmalade in it… on it… or very near to it?”

The maître d’ was slightly taken aback. Actually, he was ‘very’ taken aback; but, before he could conjure up a response…

“No? Oh, well don’t worry, I will have the Chef’s Special. I brought along a couple of jars of my latest home-brewed marmalade just in case the chef had forgotten it.”

The Chef’s ‘even more’ Special was a great success – and, luckily, Paddington had brought enough marmalade to go round.


#6 in a series of 10 from the book, ‘Ten Creative Ways to ‘Literally’ Cook Your Ukulele.’