Slip!

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There’s a sign above the bar in The Baaamy Inn that says ‘Cash, use it or lose it’, but despite it being there most people pay by cards or whatever, including Arthur who spent quite a while attempting to pay for a round using his phone, “it’s my grandson’s fault”, he said, “peruading me to bank online, he made me come up something called with a… what was it…a needle number I think, and he warned me that if I let slip it’s 1959 everyone will have access to my account, but worse than that, they’ll even know my birth year!”

“I can’t be without  cash”, said Ted, “that’s real money, without it I can’t slip a tip to the waitress in Kathy’s Caffy or drop coins into that homeless guy’s hat, it beggars belief; when I can’t make my mind up about something, I like to toss a coin, heads or tails, tossing a phone’s hardly the same, apparently they have an add, or an abb, or an ass or something called Googledoodle where you can get advice” – “the only ass on mine”, said Arthur, “is the photo I accidentally took of my bull’s backside” – “OY, watch your laguage” , yelled Landlord Len.

“Why are you wearing slippers, Bert?” asked Babs, “well, as I was about to leave the house I noticed one of my shoes was brown and the other one was black, I looked on my shoe rack and noticed my other pair was half black and half brown too, so I’m going to have to buy myself some new ones tomorrow”.

“Why are you sitting on a newspaper Babs?”, asked Bert, “well, I was counting my sheep before coming here and I started to fall asleep on my feet”, she replied, “it’s happening more and more of late, anyway going down the slope with my eyes half closed I accidentally slipped on a slick of mud and landed on my backside; I know the seats here aren’t as clean as they were back  when Maggie looked after them, but I didn’t want to make this one worse than it already is!”

“The limo I hired had no driver” said Colin, “all that money and nothing to chauffeur it – the Czech Republic doesn’t accept cash or cards – I know jokes about cash machines but I can’t think of one atm – a slipper is a shoe made from a banana –  I just slipped on a banana skin, I look ridiculous in it – the dentist became a brain surgeon when his drill slipped – dentist’s mistakes are accidental – I have trouble admitting my mistakes, it’s not my fault – farmers can’t keep secrets because the corn have ears, the potatoes have eyes and the beans stalk – I learn a lot from slip ups, I should make some more – I made a mistake at the shop, I wanted 6 Sprites but picked 7up – I couldn’t find any fresh ice, it was all frozen – I slipped on some spilt margarine and hurt my foot, I can’t believe it’s not better – a slippery book is is non-friction……”

As usual, at the end of the session Landlord Len was sorting out what cash he’d taken ready for the bank – his mind went back to when he and his dearly departed Maggie would sometimes play a game similar to Jenga and see how high they could pile the coins; just for old times sake he had another go and was doing quite well until it suddenly toppled over, “I know that was you Maggie, you naughty lady!” he muttered, he heard her chuckle and start singing her favourite song, ‘money money money, always funny…..’

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Thanks to Denise at GirlieOnTheEdge for hosting Six Sentence Stories where our given word is Slip!

100 words

I came across Fishy Fred walking along the riverbank.

‘Look what I caught’, he said. In his bucket was a sad looking baby –  then I noticed it had a tail!

‘A merbabe’, I exclaimed, ‘where did you find her…him…it?’

‘Sitting on that rock’, he said, ‘should I take it to the children’s home or the aquarium?’

I heard a voice in my ear. ‘Wake up sleepy-head’.

‘Oh, I nodded off, I just had a ridiculous dream’, I said to my girlfriend, ‘I dreamt Fred found a merbabe!’

‘How exciting, I hope it comes true’, she said, flapping her tail.

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Click the merfrog to visit the squares!

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Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers

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PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

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Pics!

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for Wordless Wednesday and boghops here there and everywhere!

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This year’s parade theme was The Movies!

Meanwhile in the park…

Some children were learning about CPR!

The funfair was still going strong!

24 hours later – what a difference a day makes! Now we just need some rain to bring the grass back to life.

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My book

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I love books, I’ve always got one on the go. A while ago John, a friend of mine asked me why I didn’t write one myself. It seemed a great idea at the time, but I’m finding it more difficult than I thought.

John’s an interesting person so unbeknown to him, he’s become my main character. I need to come up with something to spice the story up a bit, so I asked him if he had any ideas I could use.

He said he likes books in which the hero gets unexpectedly murdered towards the end.

I thought that was a great idea, however he might regret coming up with it – I forgot to tell him my book’s an autobiography!

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Thanks to Sadje for hosting What Do You See?

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Image credit; Ebahir@ Unsplash

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A short story!

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He’s a miserable sod. His current obsession conerns the dreadful goings on in the underworld.

He claims he heard screams, then followed the desolate voices until he came upon a spiral staircase littered with bones leading down into a pit which resembled a devil’s temple.

Oh, the tales of woe he weaves.

There is so much to celebrate in this world. Sparks of joy not the dakness of doom. Reality not fantasy! Fairies, unicorns, magic, choirs of angels, ice cream! I’m right, aren’t I?

Oh, I just heard screams. I’ll let him follow them! Coffee anyone?

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Thanks to Brenda for hosting The Sunday Whirl where this week’s 12 words are – screams desolate temples bone sparks pit voices follow underworld spiral weave current

55 Words

…in 55 carefully chosen words!

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“Here it is, my gastronomic conglomeration of mulifarious constituents amalgumated then pulsed to create a heterogeneous and gratifying regale designed to galvanise and titilate ones taste buds. The components and methodology are known only to me and my multitudinous anticedants.  Savor and relish”.

It was, well, interesting. Less a hotpot, more a hodgepodge I’d say!

*or as we’d actually say in the UK, a hotchpotch!

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Thanks to Sammi Cox for hosting the Weekend Writing Prompt

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Yarn!

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Len, landlord of The Baaamy Inn has been giving thought lately to all the amusing things that have happened there over the years, infact he’s bought himself a notebook so that he can write them down, he’s calling them his Baaamy Yaaarns, like the time he purchased some new darts; he got Bert to try them out and every time one hit the board it bounced back and landed on the floor – he’d forgotten to take the little rubber point protectors off.

Natalie over at the knitting circle was reminiscing about the time fellow knitwit Polly went to buy a drink unaware that a strand of wool on her cardigan had become trapped in the back of her wobbly chair, she went to bar with a trail of yarn unravelling behind her; she passed to the left of a loving couple that was standing drinking champagne, then started to come back passing them on their right before realising she’d forgotten to pick up a straw,  she went around the couple to pick one up and when she arrived back at the table not only had her cardigan shrunk by a third the loving couple were bound together;  the young man said “this is fate, we should tie the knot, wool you marry me?”, and she said “of course I wool!”

“I used to knit a bit”, said Babs, “I once tried knitting my grandson a jumper, I wasn’t sure of his size so I took a guess at it, anyway when I finished it I got him to try it on but he coudn’t because it was it was way to tight, he said ‘you can’t pull the wook over my eyes, Gran’, cheeky little devil!

Arthur was talking about an idea he once had, “I thought I’d try inventing ready coloured yarn by adding something to the sheep’s grub like food colouring or paint, that way I’d have a flock of many colours; I wasn’t just determined I was dyed-in-the-wool about it, unfortunately it didn’t work out and it was the idea that dyed not the fleece”.

“I’m writing a mystery novel” said Colin, “or am I? – the Mexican’s favoutrite novel was Tequila Mockingbird – I’ve got a book about herbs, it’s a  thyme-less yarn with some sage advice – Indian folk like naan fiction – a cat swallowed a ball of yarn and had mittens – the German shepherd was selling meat instead of wool but it went from baa to wurst – a really fast sheep is a Lamb-orghini – a young sheep wearing a swimming costume is a lamb bikini – next to my house a horse crossed with a sheep, now I have a new neigh-baaa – I was surrounded by sheep, it was a lambush – a nun found knitting habit forming – pirates knit with yarrrrrn – tired people knit with yawn – it takes three sheep to knit a sweater, I didn’t even know they could knit…..”

After a busy night, Landlord Len was upstairs in his armchair, his notebook on his lap, he opened it saw  a yarn about a very special Valentine’s Day event they once carried out – but he didn’t recall writing it; then he realised it was in his dearly departed Maggie’s handwriting; he looked up and smiled, and when he looked down again it had disappeared, I just wanted to remind you‘, he heard Maggie say.

Thanks to Denise at GirlieOnTheEdge for hosting Six Sentence Stories where this week’s given word is Yarn

100 words

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We loved sitting under this tree  watching the sunset. Remember that conversation we had?  ‘How’s work, how’s your mum, what did you have for lunch, I need a haircut… will you marry me?’ Your face! You giggled and said ‘no!’ Then looked me in the eye and said ‘of course’!”

Then your sun set. Why? I blamed myself, your family, your doctor, God even. How dare he? I was so angry. But it was nobody’s fault. These things happen. To some. To you.

That was ages ago. The tree’s still here, weather-worn like me. But something’s missing. You are missing.

You.

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Prod Froggie to visit the squares

Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

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Pics!

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For Wordless Wednesday, and bloghops here there and everywhere!

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Welcome to Bexhill-on-Sea’s biggest event of the year!

Click pics to enlarge

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On with your dancing shoes!

And then the sun went down!

The evening ending with a bang!

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Time to go home!

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That was Friday. Saturday was Carnival with its wonderful procession through the streets of the town – and the park took on a completely different look. I’ll show what happened in next week’s Wordless Wedneday!

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Monday’s bench!

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There are seven benches in the park, four here and three around the corner. I’ve given them all names, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, you get the drift. Each day whilst on my walk I sit for a while on the appropriately named one. Today it was….Monday!

Imagine my surprise last Friday when I found the benches had been repainted! They each had a sign saying Wet Paint on them. Where was I going to sit?

My disappointment was short lived when I discovered Friday was the only bench without a warning sign, the Saint of Seats must have been smiling down at me!

Or perhaps not. Just as I plonked myself down I noticed the warning sign blowing along the track. I was sitting on wet brown paint and to make matters worse I was wearing my best cream linen trousers.

I always try to see the positive side in every unfortunate situation, so I told myself that the three brown stripes on my rear may actually look quite good, designer style even!

I caught the bus home, and when I stood to get off, I noticed that I’d deposited three sticky brown stripes on the seat. Someone boarded the said bus and sat in my vacated seat unaware that her white skirt was about to become very fashionable indeed!

I’ll sit on Tuesday tomorrow morning!

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Thanks to Sadje for hosting What Do You See?

Image credit; Shan Ali @ Pexels

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