We loved sitting here watching the sunset. Remember that conversation we had one evening? ‘How’s work, how’s your mum, you 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 your doctor, the hospital, God even. How dare he? I was so angry. Sadly, these things happen. To some. Why you?
Here I am, watching the sunset. Our bench looks weather-worn, a bit like me. That tree doesn’t look a day older, unlike me! One thing’s missing. You are missing.
Six miles down the road from me is Pevensey Castle. Built by the Normans after they landed there in 1066, it sits in the corner of a Roman fortress dating back to 216 AD. Despite its age, most of the Roman walls remain at their original height, although those on the southern side were washed away by the sea, which has since receded by about a mile. Let’s take a walk!
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Click to enlarge images
The Roman Fortress Walls
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The Norman Castle
On September 28 1066, a fleet of about 700 ships came ashore here, led by William the Conqueror.
A miniature model of one of the boats the Normans arrived in.
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They then built their castle. Many of the walls we see today were rebuilt in the 1300s
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In we go!
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This is one of the guns used to ward off the Spanish Armada in 1588. The cariage it’s mounted upon is a reproduction.
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Here are the remains of the chapel
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and this is the well.
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This is how the chapel and well would have looked back then. The castle remained inhabited until the 14th century.
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Looking at the Roman walls from a tower
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These projectiles date back to 1264. They were launched by a machine called a trebuchet when fending off invading forces
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I would have been up to my neck in water out here in 1066!
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Just a short walk away is a Norman church; most of the outer walls date back to 1080.
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Time to drive home – mind that wall, it’s been there almost 2000 years, and we don’t want you knocking it down!
I was late, and I dashed down the steps to the underground station, dodging this way and that to avoid people staring at their phones.
A train came to a halt, and I was almost knocked off my feet by a horde of people alighting, most of whom were staring at their phones.
I climbed aboard and spotted Jim, sitting there, staring at his phone. “Hello, Jim”, I said. He said nothing, then my phone ting-a-linged. ‘Hi’. said a message from Jim. I asked how he was, and he didn’t utter a word. Another message appeared. ‘Fine’, it said. I didn’t bother to try and make any more one-way conversation!
I jumped off at the station and dashed to the shop just as it was about to close! I made it and collected my new phone!
As I strolled back to the station, people kept bumping into me. Couldn’t they see I was busy on my phone?
As I got on the train, someone I knew said hello to me. ‘Hello’, I typed back.
At last, a chance to use a story I’ve been sitting on for ages – albeit slightly altered to accommodate the given words!
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Soon ‘twill be time for young folk to don creepy costumes and act like fools, lunatics even while incessantly performing ghastly pranks in the hope of receiving a treat or two. However, it was not always that way. A similar tradition once existed when homeowners were urged to offer nourishment to those less fortunate than themselves.
‘Twas late October in the year of our Lord 1789. In the waning hours of Hallowmas Eve, urchins in rags, some no more than skin and bones, and sufferers from calamity marched from their hovels in the west until the cobbled streets of Bartonwick came into view.
Smoke curled into the sky from the crooked chimneys of thatched stone cottages. Banging on doors, the soulers begged for food and money, offering songs and prayers in payment.
A soul cake, a soul cake,
Please, good missus, a soul cake.
An apple, a pear, a plum or a cherry,
Any good thing to make us all merry.
One for Peter, two for Paul,
And three for Him that made us all
Old Harriet Wicklesmith opened her creaking oak door, and a smile spread across her wrinkled face. All day she had mixed, stirred and baked her Soul Cakes. She proffered a vast bowl filled with steaming cross-topped sweetmeats. One by one, the soulers helped themselves.
“May your souls be freed from Purgatory when these cakes are eaten”, she murmured.
“We shall eat the fruit of your labour. Blessings and prosperity will be yours,” one replied.
She returned to the calm of her room and settled before the crackling log fire, content that her good deed was done and her soul comforted for another year.
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Thanks to Brenda for hostingThe Sunday Whirl. This week’s words are – urged exist pranks view letters incessantly west fools lunatic bones ghastly vast. I used all but one!
As well as being a Baaamy boozer, Fred is also a football coach for the local under eighteen team, “I had to stop the game and call young Johnny over, I told him that win or lose we play as a team, to curse and swear at the other side was not acceptable and to call the referee an idiot and then threaten to punch him was disgraceful, then I said to him ‘go over there and repeat everything I’ve just said to your gobby grandfather’ ”.
“The other day I was chatting to Tracy”, said Arthur, “she teaches the tiny tots at the toddler school and during playtime five-year-old Milly was sitting in a pedal car and having difficulty making it move, then suddenly the frustrated child started swearing, Tracy told her she shouldn’t curse and anyway, she didn’t know what those words meant – Milly said ‘yes I do, I learned them from my Daddy, they mean my car won’t start’ “.
“That reminds me”, said Babs, “I’ve been having trouble with my parrot, she keeps cursing, where she’s learned it from I don’t bloody know, well I mentioned it to Dick the Vic because I knew he also had one; he told me that his just says prayers and suggested I take mine to the vicarage so they could meet, well, when I entered his room mine said, ‘well, hello’, and his raised its wings and said, ‘hallelujah, my prayers have been answered!’
Over at the knitting circle, Polly was telling her fellow knitwits that just lately everything was going wrong, she thought she was cursed, “I decided to visit a fortune teller hoping I might get prior warning of upcoming mishaps”, she said, “he was not much help but as I was leaving he gave me a gift, a calendar, I gave it a cursory glance and noticed the last two months were missing, worrying, anyway I then visited a palmist hoping for better luck and he said I could ask three questions – I asked him what kind of questions and he said ‘anything’, I said don’t you think £30 is a lot to pay for three answers?’ and he said, ‘no, not really, that’s two gone, what’s your third?’ “.
“Two fortune tellers met”, said Colin, “one said ‘your day’s going fine, how’s mine going?’ – I thought about becoming a fortune teller, but something told me there was no future in it – the fortune teller said he foresaw six years of bad luck, I asked if things would then get better and he said ‘no, you’ll have just got used to it’ – it’s bad luck to believe in superstition – fancy swearing is cursive – I used to be a chef that cursed a lot, then I discovered oven mits – I don’t curse, I don’t smoke, I don’t drink…dammit, I left my cigarettes in the pub – I banged my head and swore, I was con-cussing – someone who cares for swear words is a cuss-todean – a mouse that swears is a cursor – the animal that curses the most is the hippopottymouth – apathy is a curse, but don’t care enough to do anything about it – the painkiller that makes you curse is called I be profane – my alarm clocked cursed instead of beeping, I got a rude awakening…..”
Bad language in the Baaamy Inn is a no-no, Landlord Len objects to cursing of every nature, and this evening things had got a little uncomfortable on occasions; his dearly departed Maggie used to tease him about it and couldn’t resist whispering something in his ear, ’I love you Len, I swear’, she said – “I love you too, Maggie, I promise”, he muttered, “but I don’t swear!” – you should have heard them chuckle!
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Thanks to Denise at GirlieOnTheEdge for hosting Six Sentence Stories, where this week’s given word is Curse.
Dapper Daniel flung back the curtains and gazed from his window. It was a perfect day. The sky was blue and the trees adorned with Autumnal tones. He had just one errand to complete, after which the remainder of the day was his to enjoy. What could be nicer than a boat trip along the river that flows through the forest?
Mission accomplished, he prepared himself for what was to come. Always one to dress appropriately, Dan donned his ruddy shirt and amber shorts, then set off for the mooring place.
As the boat made its way downstream, all he could hear was the quiet chug-chug of the motor, singing birds, and rippling water. Pure bliss.
After a while, they stopped. The captain invited his passengers to step ashore for a while and take a stroll upon the leafy carpet beneath the bronzed trees.
An hour passed, and the roamers returned to the vessel, all of them except for Daniel. They searched for him, but he was nowhere to be seen.
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Deep in the forest, he began to think that wearing those clothes was not such a good idea. To make matters worse, he’d visited the tanning salon earlier in the day and adopted an orange hue from head to toe. He got some very funny looks from a couple of rabbits who thought a tree had come to life!
To cut a long story somewhat shorter, he eventually came across a road and made his way back home on foot.
It had been an event he’d rather forget and one he’ll forever keep to himself. Nobody knows of it but you and I, so please, for Daniel’s sake, keep it to yourself!
I got the sack the other day. My boss said he’d found a gizmo that could carry out my job more efficiently and speedily. When I told my wife, she asked where she could buy one, cheeky mare!
I admit, I was a bit slow, and I was known to make the odd mistake now and again. But to replace me with a robot or whatever was an insult.
I blamed all my blunders on my fools … I meant tools. Oh, this stupid keyboard!
