I spend hours tending our garden. And what do you do? Nothing. You just sit there drinking coffee and watching me as I trim the lawn, cut the hedge and sweep the patio.
At least my plants appreciate me. I feed them, trim them, clear weeds out their way, and they thank me by blooming in every colour of the rainbow and more besides!
This morning I planted some campanulas in colourful clogs. I thought they’d like it, they looked really pretty. When I asked you what you thought, you just shrugged, grinned and said, ‘bootiful’.
I went indoors to wash my hands, I was only gone for a minute or two and when I came back out they’d gone. Walked away, leaving nothing but footprints along the path.
And what did you do? Nothing. You should have seen them go. You may as well have had a bag placed over your head, something I’m very tempted to do sometimes.
Why are you laughing? What did you do? You…you…you…grrrr!
It was the trip of a lifetime and I will remember it for years to come.
I treated myself to a seat in first class on the flight out, the first time I’d ever turned left boarding a plane!
My hotel was amazing, the perfect place to relax for a few days. I owed it to myself, a respite away from the trials and tribulations of home. Peace at last.
I went for a stroll along the green rolling hillside embracing its beauty whilst connecting with none other than mother nature.
It was then it happened. I tripped.
After falling to ground I rolled down the slope, bouncing and bumping into trees and over boulders before falling from a ledge and tumbling into a rushing rocky river.
And so here I am, lying in a bed. Not my hotel bed but one in a foreign hospital. The only thing they have in common is room service at meal times!
Like I said, it really was the trip of a lifetime!
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Thanks to Brenda for hosting The Sunday Whirl where this week’s given words are – lifetime share relax connect place last class awe home will years trip.
Beware, there’s a rude word hidden in the Knitwit’s sentence, I hope Len doesn’t hear it or I’ll be in all sorts of trouble!
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Welcome back to The Baaamy Inn where farmer Arthur seems to be in a little bit of pain, “I had my Covid jab this morning, and I’m feeling rather sore, when I got home my grandson told me that lots of injections are given in vain, then he walked away laughing his little head off – the other day he told me to open the medicine cabinet quietly so as not to wake up the sleeping pills, he does say the oddest things!”
“I was talking to Sally the surgery nurse the other day”, said Babs, “they do get some peculiar patients, one bloke told the doctor he was a bit puzzled because he’s having strange premonitions, Doc asked him when it started and he said, ‘next Tuesday’, another patient said ‘I’m having amnesia and deja vu at the same time, and I think I’ve forgotten this before’!”
Over at the knitting circle Natilie was speaking quietly so Landlord Len couldn’t hear her, “a few of us went to The Fish Inn the other night, the puzzles in their pub quiz are far more fun than the ones here, anyway, we needed a name for our team, United Friends, Friends United, Clever Friends, Friendly Five, the names kept coming, then, tongue firmly in cheek, I suggested Friends Using Combined Knowledge and we should go by its acronym – it took them a while to get the joke after which we settled on The Baaamy Bunch!”
“There were two blokes sitting over there yesterday”, said Ted, “they’d clearly had a little too much to drink, well, one guy addopted a puzzled expression said to other, ‘you look familiar where are you from?’, and he replied ‘Dublin’, and then the first bloke said ‘me too, what a coincidence, where in Dublin?’ and the other one said ‘O’Donnel street’ and the first one said ‘me too, what what a small world’ – then Len came over and told me they were the Murphy twins, and they aways get a bit confused after a few pints of the black stuff!” – Suzie at the next table leapt to her feet and started singing her favourite Irish song – “You’re drunk, you’re drunk you silly old fool, still you can not see….”
Colin’s moment had arrived, “my Nan thought she was doing a jigsaw puzzle of a chicken, I told to put the cornflakes back in the box – the inventor of the jigsaw puzzle died, his wife’s in pieces – the crossword clue was ‘four letters, do something dishonestly’, I thought about Googling the answer but I didn’t want to cheat – I draw the line at join-the-dot puzzles – a fake sudoku is a pseudo-ku – the Egyptian boy seemed puzzled when his Daddy died and became a Mummy – the ant was confused because his uncles were ants – it bugs me when people confuse etymology and entomology – I went to the doctor because I had hearing problems, he asked me to describe the symptoms and I said Homer’s fat, and Marge has blue hair – the puzzled panda was bamboo-zled……!
Len was thinking about how much his dearly departed Maggie loved the monkey puzzle tree on the village green, ‘you always said it the only puzzle that no one knew the answer to’, Len muttered – ‘except the monkey, Len!’, she whispered in his ear.
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Incase you are unfamiliar with Suzie’s favourite Irish song and wish to hear it – here goes!
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Thanks to Denise at GirlieOnTheEdge for hosting Six Sentence Stories where this week’s given word is Puzzle.
“I needed a brick wall in my garden to separate my wonderful floral displays from my legendary vegetables. I found a builder claiming to an expert, although you can’t always believe what tradesmen tell you, they can be a bit boastful.
I was telling him about my recent achievements, stuff I’d done, things I’d won. I was surprised he’d not heard of me, after all I am quite a celebrity around here.
But look at that. Why the odd shaped portal?”
“You’ve got such a big head, he probably wanted to ensure you could get could through without bumping it!”
Welcome back to the Footbridge Gallery at Bexhill-on-Sea train station where a new collection of pictures has been assembled, many of which are in recognition of our Chamber of Commerces’ 100 year anniversary and the Bexhill 100 Motoring Club.
I have been meaning to read that book for ages. It’s by Poppy Field, a story about some drug dealers and it’s called No ‘ope – I am determined to read it!
I went to the book shop with my mate Page the other day hoping to find a copy. I did, but it was on the top shelf and slightly out of reach. Page poked it with her umbrella hoping to dislodge it, but instead, the one next to it called Watch Out tumbled down and hit me on the head.
We had another idea. I took a book called The Step from the shelf and stood on it. Almost there but I still couldn’t reach it. We placed a copy of Your Highness on top, but it still wasn’t high enough.
Page got the thickest book she cold find from the dictionary department and added it to the pile. A couple of shop assistants appeared and they saw us.
To cut a long story short – and No ‘ope is a very long story – I purchased a copy and it’s the most boring book I’ve ever read.
There’s another book I’ve been meaning to read for ages. It’s by Libbi Ray and it’s called Quiet Please. I saw it on the top shelf in the library. I decided to borrow a book by Justin Reach instead!
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Writing this silly story reminded me of something I posted back in 2013…..
It was the day of the annual Cross Country Race. Paul Derry, Powdery to his mates was more determined than ever to improve upon his previous year’s performances. He’d had enough of coming in last and winning the booby prize, this time he had his eye on the big one, a chocolate medal and a bottle of prosecco.
Twenty would-be be winners stood in a line. A celebrity that no one had heard of popped a balloon and off they dashed.
Ignoring every one else, he ran along the path, trudged up a slope, got soaked crossing a stream, tumbled into a hollow, picked him self up carried on. The track was wide then narrow, a twist then a turn. He remained focused as if in a trance-like state.
It was then he saw it. That must be the pub at the end of this years trail, the picture on the sign looked right.
Puffing and panting, he ventured inside the Ruddy Duck Inn. It was almost empty, not one of his competitors were there. He’d won, he told himself, he’d actually won! How rare was that?
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A couple of miles away the other nineteen runners were enjoying several well deserved drinks in The Dirty Drake.
“Where’s Powdery got to?” asked one.
”Looks like he’s coming last again!”, said another.
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This week’s words at The Sunday Whirl are – wide line self hollow rare track twist eye trance trudge powder empty – I admit to taking the liberty with one or two!
