Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow

Brunfelsia pauciflora

They’re lovely, aren’t they, I have perhaps 5 or 6 bushes in my garden and they flower all year round.

It’s not just the beauty of the colours in their floral display that attracts me (and mine flower for the full 12 months of the year) but the scent.

I have them in my driveway, no matter what time of year nor what time of night, as I get out of my car I have this wonderful smell of the plants reminding me that I’m home!

But this isn’t a gardening post, oh no, I need a bit of help. Continue reading “Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow”

Hang on a cotton pickin’ minute May.

When I ask, did it become acceptable to arrest anyone for something you think they might do?

Linky thing.

Somewhere along the line the gubmint has managed to engender such fear, that it seems perfectly natural to arrest people in the street who are totally innocent of any crime what-so-ever.

I am not an EDL supporter folks, I find their tactics distasteful. However, they do have the right to peaceful protest in exactly the same way as anyone else in this country. According to this story, they were standing in the street and paying their respects in exactly the same manner as every other member of the public. Continue reading “Hang on a cotton pickin’ minute May.”

Bloomers and Bodices: November Short Story

Bloomers and Bodices: November Short Story

Ambrose had the feeling that the Extraordinary General Meeting of the Board of Grace Emporium was spiralling out of control. In all his years as Chairman, this was a first. Must be getting old, he thought as he listened to the increasingly angry exchanges between his two sons. Miss Phelps had abandoned her scribbles and looked hot and ill at ease as she gazed helplessly in his direction. He mimed raising a cup of tea, and was relieved when she slammed her shorthand pad on the boardroom table and fled the room.

They were still in full flow when Gladys, pushing a trolley through the heavy oak door, shouted “Tea’s up gentlemen, and by the way, Miss Phelps sends ‘er apologies. She’s gone ‘ome, she came over all poorly again.”

Continue reading “Bloomers and Bodices: November Short Story”

For The Times They Are A Changin

I wrote this piece this morning and put it on my blogger site, but thought it may stir a few souls, so here goes.

Well things are bad, and I believe are going to get a whole load worse, before there is even a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel.

To me the revolution has started. The strikes are growing and people are openly wearing the iconic mask from V for Vengeance. People the world over are waking up and realising that things left in the hands of politicians are now leading to disaster on a global scale. The revolution is coming from all walks of life and all ages and will continue to grow.

It amazes me that politicians really believe that Europe could become one superstate. Lets remember just in this country alone, we have the north – south divide, where oop north prices and jobs are vastly different from those in the soft south, in fact even in England some dialects are barely understandable to others from even the same country, so here we have self serving politicians from all over Europe who think that different countries, with old scores to settle, with vastly different cultures, language, tradition, history can all pull together in the same direction. Continue reading “For The Times They Are A Changin”

What part of Road Closed do you not understand

A major road where we live was closed on Monday to replace a bridge over the railway, the closure has been advertised for the last 2 months and residents have known about it for over a year, the closure will last about a year and is causing tremendous problems as traffic tries to find alternative ways round the few crossing over the railway.

As you approach the closed road from a roundabout there is a large (15 by 10ft) illuminated and flashing sign saying ROAD CLOSED, as you enter the road there are large red signs that you have to steer round saying ROAD CLOSED, all approaches to the roundabout are signed in blue and yellow stating ROAD CLOSED FOLLOW DIVERSION.

Yet today I drove towards the closure as I had to visit the osteopath to sort my back out (again) I sat in the car for a no more than 3 minutes and 4 cars and one lorry drove towards the closed road and had to reverse out, I knocked on the osteopaths door laughing and he said “watch” in the space of 5 minutes a further 6 vehicles approached the closed road with one car trying to cross the bridge on the pavement, the pavement being left for pedestrians and cyclists as removal of the crossing sends cars round a 3 mile diversion.

Looking at the cars all seemed to be blindly following their stanavs or on their mobile phones. Obviously Satnav knows better than great big flashing signs saying ROAD CLOSED.

And they let these people breed, there is no hope for the future generation.

Temper – November CW Comp.

This boardroom was a strange place. Boardrooms usually conjure up images of oak panelling, dark portraits of former chairmen on the walls and the smell of cigars and whisky, but this one was a shed – literally. This particular boardroom had bowed boxwood panels for walls with weak shafts of daylight percolating through the gaps, a two-year-old calender topped by a photograph of a pneumatic blonde astride a large motorbike nailed to a convenient beam and the smell of linseed oil (óleo de linhaça) and goats It was, it has to be said, more of a small warehouse, um pequeno armazém, than a shed, its darker recesses filled with sacks of fertilizer, piles of obscure agricultural implements, an ancient, asthmatic tractor and a couple of crates of empty beer bottles forgotten in a corner. Continue reading “Temper – November CW Comp.”

The Brush Travelogue (Nov C/W Comp)

“Maybe we should execute him. After all, we are the executive.”

The board of directors were used to Cranberry’s sour interjections. Recently, when Brian Brush the younger was almost killed while skiing in the Matterhorn, Cranberry said the papers should have headlined with:
A Brush with Death.
Still, young Brian’s behaviour was no laughing matter. After the death of the Blessed Brian Brush the older, sole control of the Brush conglomerate was passed onto the younger Brush.

“We must stop the young one’s wanderings. One of these days the private investigators will lose track of him like they did when he went caving in Indonesia and we’ll never hear from him again.” Chairman May was not amused. Behind him looking down on the gathering of members was the painted imposing figure of the Blessed Brain Brush the older. He would not be amused either. “Where has he got to this time?” Continue reading “The Brush Travelogue (Nov C/W Comp)”

Water drop jewels

Just outside the window a neglected planter stands with euphorbia weed, thin leaflets of crocosmia and a small self seeded Aquilegia – all fresh growth as if it is Spring, not Autumn. It has been raining, then there was a brief splash of sunshine and each water droplet became a mirrored bead on the Aquilegia. Underneath the leaf a tiny tear drop.

Continue reading “Water drop jewels”