Keith's Ramblings

for Shweta’a Six Word Story prompt where the given word is Normal.

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for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt where the given word is Galaxy and the limit, 92 words.

 

 

Did I sleep?  Don’t know, I’m too excited.  I crawl from my tent. 

Thousands of people are laughing, wandering about.  Some sit, head in hands, vowing never to drink again!

It’s starting to rain.  We cheer!  The ground’s turning to mud.  What’s a festival without mud?

The crowd’s moving towards the arena where a galaxy of stars awaits.  Guitars are being tuned, drums bashed, mikes checked!  One-two-testing, one-two-one-two!

Almost there.  Ready?

Suddenly the sheer volume is mindblowing.  I’m swaying,  swinging,  spinning,  singing.  I look stupid!  I don’t care.  Nobody cares!

Festival … enjoy!

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for Friday Fictioneers.

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Look at that odd … thing.

Is it a ball, is it a balloon, no it’s …

That reminds me, I need some oranges.

Mandarins are more appeeling, oranges give me the pip!

Very funny, seriously though I’m going to make some marmalade.

My Ma made marvellous marmalade.

Very amusing Marmaduke. I might make some jam too.

James, what happened when a truck spilt a load of strawberries on the motorway?

Go on, tell me.

Caused a jam!

Your jokes get worse. Say, why don’t we pop to the bar for a beer?

Great idea, I’ll raise a toast to your marmalade!

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Thanks to Rochelle for hosting and to Dale for the picture

Click Froggie to join in the fun!

 

for Six Sentence Stories where the given word is Quarter.

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I like nothing more than a challenge and have completed many feats of do-or-die over the years, always with a degree of success that left my followers totally gobsmacked.

They said this was a deed too daring, but to the shock and horror of my friends  I took it on, undetered and with optimistic confidence.

I got off to a great start, it was a doddle and within minutes I’d completed a quarter of the task in hand.

Halfway through, I slowed a bit but anyone else would have been proud to have got that far. 

Between you and me, I did begin to struggle a little bit at the three-quarter mark, but I swept back my hair, mopped my sweating brow and exuberantly carried on.

Three, two, one mouthful to go then with a thunderous belch I triumphantly finished two bowls of phaal curry, two tubs of rice, six poppadoms and … wait for it … four whole naan breads!]

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Thanks to GirlieOnTheEdge for hosting.

 

for Wordless Wednesday and others.

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Chartwell House in South East England was for over forty years the home of wartime Prime Minister, Winston Churchill. He bought the property in September 1922 and lived there until shortly before his death in January 1965. 

I went for a look last Thursday!

The house

 

 

The statue

 

 

The studio

 

 

The grounds

 

The end!

for Friday Fictioneers

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He always said he wanted to make a mark; be remembered for something by generations to come.

He made a mark alright, a skid mark along the road as he slid into the back of the car in front.

For generations to come, he’ll be remembered by the family of those whose lives he wrecked.

Today, bunches of flowers mark the spot. The spot where a driver was more interested in the text he was typing than what was happening around him.

Yes, he made a mark, and yes, he’ll be remembered for something by generations to come.

 

Thanks to Rochelle for hosting and to Liz Young for the photo.

Click Froggie to discover what others have come up with this week.

Thanks to Rochelle for hostings and to Liz Young for the picture.

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When I saw the picture I immediately thought of one of my favourite UK sitcom characters, Edie from Last of the Summer Wine!

“Mother, look what you’ve done”

“It’s your father’s fault, Glenda, he keeps swapping the pedals around”. 

for Wordless Wednesday and others!

A couple of hours ago I walked part of the disused railway track formerly known as the Cuckoo Line.

Click pics to enlarge

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for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt where the given word is Nomenclature and the limit, 76 words.

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Calling Maximilian a ‘loganamnosist’ is an understatement. His ‘lexiphanic’ language is incomprehensible. Why he uses such long words discombobulates me!

He says today’s lazy-speak (my word, not his) is ‘symptomatic of the gradational decline in the standard of articulated and scripted English’.

“Max” I said. Mistake!  

“My designated nomenclature is Max-i-mil-ian” he enunciated. He claims it’s Latin for ‘the greatest’. Yea, in your dreams chum!

He’ll never change. Max without long words just wouldn’t be Maximilian! 

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*In case you are wondering, a loganamnosist is someone with a fascination for long lost and archaic words, and lexiphanic means to use pretentious vocabulary or grandiose phraseology. I just thought I’d have a go at being a legolept myself!

for Friday Fictioneers

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Millie and Billy are best friends and love playing together. They are fearless too. Billy likes spinning around until he’s dizzy and Millie once ate a sprout! Yuc!

Yesterday they played creepy-crawly-dare. Billy dared Millie to pick up a wiggly worm and Millie dared Billy to prod a grasshopper. She let a caterpillar walk up her arm, and he sat a slimy slug on his nose!

Millie told Billy to shut his eyes and open his hand. She put a hairy spider in his palm then told him to look. Billy screamed and ran away. It seems he’s not so fearless after all!

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Thanks to Rochelle for hosting and to Miles Rost for the photo.

Click the Froggies to join in the fun!

for Wordless Wednesday and others.

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Beach huts near Bexhill on Sea.

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