Umbrellas in winter? Balaclavas in July? Show us what “off-season” means to you.
Friday 12th June 2015.
Afraid I am doing more photo challenges because I have run out of ideas for other writing or informative posts. Have been editing my love story, am nearly finished, another chapter to do.
Gerry A/C 2015©
Saturday 6th June 2015
Guest photo challenge host Lignum Draco inspires us to respond to the theme, “vivid.”
Gerry A/C June 2015©
Friday 29th May 2015
In-between moments can be just as memorable as grand finales. This week, share a photo you took on the way to something else.
Monday 25th May 2015.
The Portuguese Fireplace can be found by the roadside close to Millyford Bridge – 2 kilometres (1¼ miles) from Emery Down, near Lyndhurst, beside the minor road leading towards the Bolderwood Deer Sanctuary.
A plaque explains the presence of the Portuguese Fireplace:
This is the site of a hutted camp occupied by a Portuguese army unit during the First World War. This unit assisted the depleted local labour force in producing timber for the war effort.
Almost adjacent grassland bumps and hollows mark the site of a contemporary Canadian Forestry Corps camp, whilst 0.75 kilometres to the west, across the minor road, by a gate leading into the woods, is a short length of fairly deep cutting bordered by substantial moss-encrusted banks – this was part of the route of a First World War narrow gauge railway used to take timber to a sawmill located close to what is now the Millyford Bridge car park.
In fact, by that car park, on the northern side of the minor road still lies a quite large rectangular concrete block; and on the other side of the road can still be seen building foundations. All are the remains of First and Second World War sawmills.
The First World War had a great effect on the New Forest. Airfield and army camps were set up, the whole Forest was used for manoeuvres, and charcoal was in great demand. Even the heather was used for bedding and for packing ammunition. The greatest use, however, was for timber. Importing timber was difficult, and became more so as the War went on. Coal was the main source of fuel for the navy and for industry, so huge quantities of pit props were needed for the coal mines, and more timber for the trenches in France. The New Forest was a major source for this wood, especially Conifer, but many of the forestry workers were in the army. The Women’s Forestry Corps, which had 2,000 women employed nationally by 1918, was part of the answer, but those working in the New Forest were also assisted by Portuguese Army Unit. Lumber camps with steam saws were set up in the Forest, and one of these, near Emery Down, was manned by the Portuguese. After the war was over, the flint fireplace from their cookhouse was preserved as a memorial to their work.
For more info:
Yesterday, the 30th June my daughter made this wonderful cake for me. Being my birthday she went out of her way to make this for me. She spent most of the afternoon in the kitchen baking it and then decorating it. This has been the fourth year running in which she has made me a wonderful cake. Each year with a different topic/title.
Just recently, the last couple of months that is, I have been concentrating on editing and reading through two of my novel length stories. My love story ‘Our Dream’ has been completed and ‘The Parchment’, a fantasy story, I have completed my first edit a few days ago. After reading it through again, I will say I am pleased with it, I do like this story. Of course it is possible that it can be improved, after all every story can be improved upon. Everyone has a different angle, different viewpoint. Our own personal imagination is our limit, the more imaginative or insane one is the better the story, well maybe. My point is, I enjoy writing stories of all lengths, poetry and song lyrics but just lately I have come short of ideas. Having no prompts or suggestions has made my mind go a little blank of late. So for my birthday yesterday I was given an online writing course, a mystery, crime fiction writing. It is set out in 12 modules with a varying amount of units within each module. This particular course is over a year but the course is open for 18 months and at the end, if completed then one will receive a recognised certificate. (so they say) So I am hoping this will inspire and improve my writing, which I feel is not as high as it could be.
Also the two stories I have now finished I am intending to e’publish via createspace or one other. Gerry A/C July 2015©
Thursday May 14th 2015
Just a day or two ago I finished writing a story, and have done a first read plus edit. This story was born way back in the 1970’s, it now consists of 80,000 words and 186 pages. I feel rather pleased with myself about this story in particular because it started off as just a few hand written pages in an old school exercise book.
I do not look at myself as writer because before all this came to life I wrote lyrics and songs on the guitar and poetry when alone, or on a train, I used to enjoy train journeys when a teenager. My writing started with lyrics for the odd chord structure which I liked, many of the lyrics I still have, including the old writing book I used. Scribbling’s everywhere, odd phrases, odd lines even complete verses with a chord sequence written with them. After years of absence I could not recall what I originally had in mind. I remember sitting on my bed looking out the window on a rainy stormy night, enjoying the storm, the lightning the thunder and shadows of the night. This particular night I wrote a poem called ‘Within the Darkness of Night’. It could also be a song lyric, but was written as a poem. I have included it in this post. I ask if you read it think of yourself walking lonely streets on a stormy night, with lightening in the distant sky and thunder clapping over head. You are squinting your eyes protecting them from the heavy rain. You are soaked to the skin, shivering and felt completely alone. Each corner you turn shadows jump out at you making you startle, strange sounds and lightening creating its imaginary beings. Your mind goes mad, you are thinking of many scary things. Enjoy!
Within the Darkness of Night!
The cat sleeps quietly, The street lights dim,
Everyone retires to bed, Except for the misfit.
The shadows of the night lurk, The owl hoots are scary,
Everyone shivers within their beds, Except for the misfit.
The wind howls through the trees, Swaying back and forth,
Everyone sleeps through the horrors, Except for the misfit.
River waters trickle quietly on, Sudden splash of jumping fish,
Everyone dreams of these beauties, Except for the misfit.
Swaying trees creak and squeal, Tall dark shadows are staring
Everyone is happy in their sleep, Except for the misfit.
Horrors of the darkness is his beauty, The lurking shadows of fear,
Everyone carries on sleeping, Except for the misfit.
The night speaks to us all, Sounds quiver through the air,
Everyone still sleeps merrily on, Except for the misfit.
Night drifts into day, all the beauty now deserts him,
Everyone awakes to this new day, Except for the misfit.
Tonight when you go for a walk, Listen to the night talking
Then HE can sleep peacefully, HE can only be the Misfit.
Gerry A/C © May 2015
So my point is, the more poems I wrote, the more lyrics I wrote the more imaginative my mind became, it was then the beginnings of my story ‘King of the Wood’ was born. I hand wrote the tale in my exercise book, over the years I added small snippets to include when the time came. That time in 2011, when I discovered ‘Nanowrimo’ so the first half of the story was put into words on my computer. It was with this story I completed my first of four Nanowrimo’s. After writing 4 complete novel length stories I still call myself a scribbler. So from now on I will be known as ‘The Scribbler’.
I still have three to edit, in truth it is actually only two I remember doing one already, one pass that is..’The Parchment’.
Thank you for your time!
Gerry A/C May 14th 2015©
Wednesday 13th May 2015.
450th Post, who would’ve thought it.
Taking the Stairs? [poem]
Pushing the button, I get locked away.
My vision is blinded, cannot see a thing.
Routine, same thing again today,
The sudden jolt, I hear a little ting.
Rising or falling, watching the number,
Seven, eight or nine, many more.
I am just like any other consumer,
Watching and waiting for the door.
Another ding, and the door parts,
I am still alone, on my own.
I stumble as it once again starts.
Something strange it starts to groan.
Numbers stop and red lights flash,
Heart rate rises, what do I do?
Calm down, do nothing brash,
Breathe calmly and wait for the crew.
Not again, second time this week.
Can only sit down and wait.
Once again do I turn a cheek,
Again it looks like I will be late.
Patience is now getting very thin,
They should start supplying chairs.
Uncertainty is getting under my skin.
From now on I’ll take the stairs.
March 23rd 2015
Saturday 9th May 2015
This week, share a force of nature from your corner of the world.
https://cobbie69.wordpress.com/Pop over, have a look and let me know.
Saturday 25th April 2015.
This week, share your photographs that have captured motion, and tell us the stories behind the images.
Gerry A/C 2015©
Saturday 4th April 2015
Gerry A/C 2015