Saturday 28th June 2014.
http://cobbie69.wordpress.com/ For my 101 challenges a total of 20 short, very short stories.
Light and dark, tall and short, happy and sad — this week, share a shot that captures a contrast.
Wednesday 25th June 2014
Personality on a Page.
http://cobbie69.wordpress.com/ For all the original 101 Stories..
Gaa/C© June 2014
Water, water everywhere and I steer clear of it. Well not quite true, I just remain a safe distance from the liquid. While my friends, in the past, would arrange and go swimming whether it be swimming pools or the beach, I would always remain home, making my excuses. As it was swimming bored me, and sun bathing on the beach was and still is to me a complete and utter waste of time. Nothing is more boring than sitting on the beach trying to get skin cancer. But my fear is water and has been for as long as I can remember.
One hot summers day my mother packed a picnic and took us down to the river, this part of our local river was like a mini beach, pebble shingle and a variety of depths to paddle or swim. The water was clean fresh and cool, and was a very popular meeting place for local families and very safe for their children. The main advantage of this part of the river was that the parents always had their children in view.
I was about eight years of age, and playing happily in the water with friends and my brother. All was going well, laughing and enjoying the water, running in and of the water, stopping for a sandwich and a drink and back into the water. I was happy in the water until an accident happened and I think it was this that put me off water ever since. I fell and lost control and submerged, completely underwater, I then scrambled about in a panic. A friend nearby pulled me up out of the water and I went and sat on the river bank. Not really knowing or understanding what had happened, all I do know is, I never went near water again. Needless to say I have never learnt to swim, I did however make sure my daughter learnt to swim and she loves the water. She swims well, like a fish as the saying goes. Yeh right!
A little contradiction is I love boats and being on the water in boats, the small ones can be scary, but the bigger ones, like ferries and cruise liners and yachts I love and enjoy the sailing. Not sure what would happen if the boats hit a problem, how I would react, my calm and relaxed persona would possibly fly out the porthole.
For awhile I fitted cookers and heaters into boats of various sizes and getting to some were a little risky to say the least. To get to some of these yachts the supply of small rubber dinghy or inflatable crafts were used and these frightened the pants off me. Walking along beaches and coast lines is a hobby of mine enjoying the views and looking out to the sea, but I always remain a good distance.
I use to enjoy walking in the rain, that cool refreshing feeling was so invigorating. But swimming pools and coastal beach bathing is not for me, much else about water is okay.
Gaa/C June 25th 2014
Wednesday 30th April 2014
Just for you. Yes Including You.
Just wanting to brag again about my Campnano challenge which I managed to complete. I must admit I surprised myself with this project, by signing up to it but never expecting to fulfill it. No more to be said.
Casting ones mind into the world of fantasy.
Drifting on the wind, floating high.
Clouds engulf and wipe the dirt from your skin.
Droplets of rain then wash and cleanse the soul.
You slowly fall to the earth, and find yourself once again whole. ..
In the past few months I have had my eyes opened, opened to people’s dilemma’s and ailments and health issues. I posted a couple of posts about my hospital stay and what I went through, and received an overwhelming response of kindness. I am still astounded at people’s kindness, and how they continue to be upbeat and happy. However since my release from hospital and now trying to recover I have since read many other people’s blogs and posts about their issues, and am always surprised at the way the people manage to carry on with life. Some of their issues are very serious health problems some not quite so, but they are very meaningful and serious to them. I must admit to being ashamed by not commenting on their posts, mostly because I felt at a loss for words, because words never seem to be enough or right and me, well, I am never sure as to what to say. It is to everyone, past present and future I dedicate this little light-hearted poem. Also a beautiful song for you all.
The first line is the hardest to write,
So I’ve decided not to bother,
By leaving it out all together,
I can continue with the second.
Now I’ve come to verse number two,
I have no trouble at all to write,
The third line was easy to do,
And the fourth came just right.
Words for the third was hard to find,
Some came easy, while some were hard
But thinking for them, “ I don’t mind,”
It’s like finding that winning card.
Fourth is a verse that never goes right,
It’s the most difficult of all,
Sometimes I’ll sit up all the night,
All I hit is a bloody brick wall.
The fifth I find is a load of trash,
Because it’s the last, I let it go,
But at least I did give it a bash,
Why I wrote this , I don’t know.
Gaa/C May 2014©
Friday 14th March 2014
Another exclusive unearthed from the Daily Gerald reporter…Gaa/C 2014©
Changes/To write?…. The following report is purely a report.
Changes,, new developments and new mentality, Change it from yesterday to today, and tomorrow. What exactly constitutes to change. Changing ones underwear, changing ones clothes. Changing ones hairstyle or colour. The act of changing ones mind, yes I suppose these can all be accounted for as change.
Change – replace with another. As I have just had done to me.
Change – attitudes, these are and can be considered drastic, and hurting, or just bad, depending on what it is that has changed. Or how the person or persons changed. eg: when something is considered good and normal between, say, two people. Whether it be siblings, parents or even lovers. This happens when one of them decides to change their thoughts and attitude towards and an on going situation. Especially when the other is thinking that it need not have changed as such.
I have just become one of the many, especially Facebooker’s to use a quote of the day or just quotes. What the hell is all this about? Proving that one can research and find all these quotes on Google or any other search option. Purely their choice I know, but it seems to be so rife that it becomes boring. [Like me I suppose]. Easy it is to put a quote on a post or timeline, easier than writing our own words of wisdom, is it? oh! and it makes us all look good. How many of us actually believe or follow the actions of these words that some person has thought up and written for us to make ourselves look good. Sad when people result to this. But I have ‘Changed’ and also become sad, because, hey I am using a couple myself. I say words of wisdom, well are they? Do I actually heed or take in the words on these quotes, do you, it makes me wonder.
Lets take the first line – ‘no one falls in love by choice, it is by chance’ [maybe so, but we do have a choice. Do we not have control of our own emotions and mind.]
Second line – no one stays in love by choice, it is by work. [to me this is pathetic, love is natural and needs no work. relationships yes maybe]
Third line – no one falls out of love by chance. it is by choice. [ I will be nasty and say what a load of crap. I have never experienced falling out of love by choice.] It is usually forced on one by the opposite party.
How ever you might well disagree, but that is your choice and is respected. But what I have encountered partly for my myself but seen from the outside looking in, is the absolute rubbish people say just to verify their reasoning. You have changed, is a common one. Even exaggerate the situation. I can be and probably have been guilty of this as well, it just seems to be human nature. Words like this demean the real emotion of love, the power, the drug to be addicted to. So many ways to love, fall in love, experience love, in fact there are far too many to mention, THERE ARE NO RULES TO LOVE! are there? Yet someone writes a few lines and hey: we are all using them. [including me]
Change, can be made voluntarily, as much as unknown to us, changes gradually happen while we live, not knowing it is happening. We are told this is life. But is it and are we so readily to accept this, or should we question. I think it is often used as an excuse, not a reason. Health is a good reason for change, forced upon us, and we have to adapt and change to compensate the illness and its symptoms. That is another post, which will be written and edited shortly by Daily Gerald newspaper.
Sunday 16th February 2014
Local Folk Songs Today Three Drunken Maidens.
Back to normal, hopefully. No more hospital posts, [maybe the odd small update] but for now normal posts. Today I take you back to my local folk songs.
The Three Drunken Maidens, is an old song based on the Isle of Wight. Which is by the way a short Ferry ride across the Solent. From Lymington it would be by car ferry about 45 minutes or from Southampton which you choose, a car ferry is an hour or the Hydrofoil is 30 minutes.
I chosen two versions, which are quite different. The second is by a very well-known female singer. Maddy Prior was very popular and mostly known for her singing with the folk style band Steelye Span. As well as other folk style bands. She, in my mind, has one of the best voices. I wonder if you agree!
Keep a watch out for my Brocks Music Shed, I am to do a post on her and her music shortly.
Tuesday 25th March 2014.
“Knife and Scissors need sharpening ma’am. Just a penny fur each item.” He would shout with a broad yokel accent.
Just recently I have been researching folk songs and music. This particular style of music has always been a favourite of mine, and while doing so I came across this one. I could not find a recorded song so I have decided to make a normal post out of it rather than a music one that I intended to do. This song and title reminded me of old services that my mother use to use. Many of you might have even experienced or come across the same.
Above is the song, and it brings to mind the days when I was a very young boy, a man, rather scruffy man with his bicycle toured the roads and streets touting for work. He was offering the sharpening of knives and scissors and all sorts of gardening tools, shears, pluming cutters, hoes, virtually anything that was offered to him..
His bicycle was fitted with two circular grinding stones. One large one and one small one, of different grades. Apparently a coarse stone and a fine stone.
He would set his bicycle on a stand and make a few adjustments and somehow got his pedal and chain to connect with a few different cogs that would then enable him to turn the grind stones. Some of theses pedlars would be towing a small cart which would carry other tools and a seat and cogs and connections. He would spend a few minutes setting up his bicycle so he could sit and peddle away turning the stones and sharpening the offerings given him. He was quite popular in our road, many of the neighbours would come out and get a selection of knives or scissors sharpened, including my mother.
This man was just one of a few that use to travel our streets in those days. We use to have a pretend Frenchman selling onions, Another was man selling fresh vegetables and other groceries from his van. My mother used him regularly. Every Friday he turned up about 5pm and he became a friend, his name was Mr Bishop. Also a coal delivery service every week, once and sometimes twice, depending on demand.
We also use to get a lot of other door to door selling, flower sellers, wooden peg sellers, and at Christmas others would appear trying to sell wreaths and log decorations. There are probably others that I cannot remember, but I bet you can think of a few different one.
Today trends have changed so much, health and safety etc, and this no longer happens, or at least to acceptability standards.
Saturday 4th May 2013
Weekly Photo Challenge: From Above click me for more info
Friday 5th April 2013
One day in the 1990’s, a group of young men, ( though ‘men’ might not be a particularly appropriate description) came driving out of Bournemouth intent on causing trouble and strife. They robbed a petrol filling station just outside New Milton and careered off through a maze of lanes and country roads. When they heard the police sirens, they decided to dump the money. The ringleader stopped the car, saw that strange, tall concrete tower, ran into the Hordle churchyard, and hid the money under a bush. Not noticing the plaque on the wall.
The next day the ringleader decided to return and recover the money. Now, he really wasn’t very clever and struggled to read maps,he drove around all day until early evening when he noticed the unmistakable tower, and then Hordle churchyard. He then found the bush and the money. It was as he turned to leave that he saw something terrible at the churchyard gates. There was a tall, gaunt , angular figure of a woman, wearing a long, black Victorian dress and a large, black bonnet with a feather pointing vertically upwards….and she was jumping – up and down – up and down. Now, if a woman is wearing a heavy Victorian dress you can’t see whether she is bending her legs at the knees or not – but you would swear that this apparition was not bending it’s knees: it was straight and rigid and there it was jumping – up and down – up and down.
The young man panicked and ran off in the opposite direction, and each time he looked behind there she was jumping up and down –up and down, always at the same distance and never looking as if she was moving. The young man kept running and stumbling, across a field and then the tall gaunt looking tower, Peterson’s Tower, appeared in front of him. Being terrified and not thinking straight he headed for this tower. A blind alley, and silly move on his part.
He stumbled through the open doorway and dragged himself to the spiral staircase. He came to an empty room, crossed it to the next spiral staircase. He stopped and looked behind and there she was in the doorway, still jumping – up and down – up and down. Then to the next room and again there she was jumping – up and down – up and down. And he continued up the thirteen levels and each time he stopped and looked, there she was, still jumping – up and down – up and down and never getting any closer. He came to the iron ladder that led up to the roof.
Now the Peterson’s Tower is being used as mobile phone mast, and in the final top room was all the transmitting and receiving equipment. As the the young man scrambled up the ladder and across the room, the ‘Jump to Glory Jane’ shade passed through the receivers and transmitters, and fizzled and crackled and then jumped off into cyber space.
And ideal ending to this story would be that the young man followed the shade by jumping off the roof to his death. But he did not. The police found him the next day crouched in a foetal position and gently rocking back and forth, apparently both laughing and crying at the same time.
He never made any sense since and was put into Tatchbury Mount Hospital, mental hospital, in nearby Calmore. And it was said that he never found peace again. The tall gaunt man made tree that was being used as a mobile phone mast, sitting amongst all the trees of the grounds of the hospital was the view from his window. Perfectly straight branches, and trunk, tall and gaunt and rigid and at night looked just like ‘Jump to Glory Jane’ Was she jumping – up and down – up and down.
Folk lore from the Forest lives on and adapts to the age. Like a tree it continues to grow and even when the old oak has fallen, new branches will grow from the trunk.
My next post the Sway tower/Peterson’s,,,,
Saturday 2nd March 2013
Weekly Photo Challenge: Lost in the Details
Tuesday 8th January 2013
The brief story from the New Forest,,
King William Rufus…
The story and biography of William Rufus which contains interesting information, facts & the history about the life of William Rufus. William of Malmesbury (1095 – 1143) was an English historian during the 12th century who described the court of the Red King as being filled by “effeminate” young men in extravagant clothes mincing about in “shoes with curved points”.
King William II ( William Rufus – The Red King )
William the Conqueror was obliged to let Normandy pass to Robert, his eldest son; but he thought he could do as he pleased about England, which he had won for himself. He had sent off his second son, William, to England, with his ring to Westminster, giving him a message that he hoped the English people would have him for their king. He is sometimes called the Red King, but more commonly William Rufus. William Rufus let his cruel soldiers do just as they pleased in England, and spoil what they did not want. He cared only for being powerful, for feasting, and for hunting.
The atrocities in Jerusalem started the preaching of Peter the Hermit and led to the First Crusade. Many thousands promised to go on this crusade and among them was Robert, Duke of Normandy. But he had wasted his money, so that he could not fit out an army to take with him. So he offered to give up Normandy to his brother William while he was gone, if William would let him have the money he wanted. The Red King was very ready to make such a bargain, and he laughed at the Crusaders, and thought that they were wasting their time and trouble.
In England Rufus removed the Archbishop of Canterbury, St. Anselm, and everyone else who tried to object to his behaviour. He was hated by the people who dislike the court and the favor that King William II showed to Ranulf Flambard, whom he appointed Bishop of Durham in 1099. Rufus had never showed any interest in women. He did not marry, nor produce any heirs to the English throne.
In the year 1100, Rufus went out to hunt deer in the New Forest. He was later found dead under an oak tree, with an arrow through his heart by peasants. A wood-cutter called Purkis took his body in his cart to Winchester Cathedral, where he was buried. Who shot the arrow nobody knew, and nobody ever will know. Some thought it must be a knight, named Walter Tyrrell, to whom the king had given three long good arrows that morning. Walter Tyrrell rode straight away to Southampton, and went off to the Holy Land; so it is likely that he knew something about the king’s death. The Norman friends of Rufus fled the English court and returned to Normandy.
The Death of King William Rufus – The Rufus Stone…
The death of the Red King remains a mystery. A stone, known as the Rufus Stone, marks the place where he was found. The inscription on the Rufus Stone is as follows:
“Here stood the oak tree, on which an arrow shot by Sir Walter Tyrell at a stag, glanced and struck King William the Second, surnamed Rufus, on the breast, of which he instantly died, on the second day of August, anno 1100. King William the Second, surnamed Rufus, being slain, as before related, was laid in a cart, belonging to one Purkis, and drawn from hence, to Winchester,
and buried in the Cathedral Church, of that city.”
Here it says that nobody knew who shot the arrow but there is a story that it was Sir Walter Tyrell..The story goes that an arrow was shot, supposedly at a stag, by the Frenchman Sir Walter Tyrell who was the King’s best archer, but the arrow struck an oak tree and ricocheted off it straight into the chest of the king, puncturing his lung and killing him there and then. Depicted below with this lithograph.
There are differing stories about Sir Walter Tyrell and one is that ..Sir Walter hot-footed it back to Normandy in fear of being charged with the King’s murder, the tale says that he stopped at a blacksmith on the way and had his horse re-shod with backwards facing horseshoes, so as to confuse the chasers!
As it happened, there were no chasers because no-one was particularly upset about the King’s death.
Indeed, there wasn’t even an effort to recover the king’s body by the Crown; a local charcoal burner named Purkis loaded the corpse onto his cart and carried it to Winchester Cathedral, where a somewhat low-key burial was performed.
Where I used to live there was a shop, grocery store in the high street of a New Forest village of Brockenhurst, just a few miles away from this, Called Purkis’s. Their history is goes back, but not sure if it is true to going back to charcoal burner taking the body to Winchester. There is the stone which is pictured, and further along the road there is a public house called ‘The Sir Walter Tyrell’ it is a very popular pub. Back in the 1970’s I play a couple of gigs there. Oh such times.
The Sir Walter Tyrell.