I know we don’t celebrate Christmas, but most of our customers do which is why I said we should take advantage of it. I’ve added turkey sandwiches, mince pies, mulled wine and a few other festive nibbles to the menu. I’ve ordered some bits and pieces that would make nice presents, bracelets necklaces and things, and cleared a place for them over there.
All I asked you to do was put up a few decorations. I didn’t expect you take it that literally though, I mean, six little stars dangling from the ceiling?
In 2017 I took part in the A-Z Challenge and wrote a story each day about a seaside village called Amble Bay and the people that reside there. As I’m going to be busy today putting up my Christmas decorations I thought I’d save time by using the one I wrote on B-day simply called…
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Well, here we are at Amble Bay beach. It’s not the prettiest of beaches I admit, but at least there’s no risk of being hit on the head by a coconut like was in Barbados last year! I see you have your bucket and spade. It’s pebbly here now but there’ll be some soggy sand when the tide goes out.
What are you looking at? Oh her! I should have warned you. That bit along there’s reserved for folk of a naturist persuasion. That’s Naked Nora practising her yoga. No, not a pretty sight, but not as alarming as Willy in his orange mankini! He didn’t realise it was a joke when we gave it to him. He thinks it’s very fetching and regularly strolls along the shore wearing it.
This old fishing boat has been in the Whiting family for generations. It’s got more patches than my gran’s patchwork quilt! But Netta goes out in it most days and she usually comes back with a few wriggling fish. They sell it in the fish shop over there in the car park. I prodded a lobster in there once. Wretched thing snapped hold of my finger. I got my own back though – I ate it!
Fancy an ice cream?
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Not Amble Bay, but a picture I once took of my beach at low tide
Fluent is a lovely word. Say it slowly, roll it around your tongue. Floooooent. It sounds delicious, it’s a perfect example of an evocative verb. Smooth and flowing, it’s effortless and graceful.
Then some dumbo went and stuck EF in front of it. Poo, what a stink!
Arthur arrived at The Baamy Inn limping slightly, “I was playing tag with the grandkids this afternoon, the ‘ole legs aren’t what they used to be, trying to run around wore me out so I suggested we play hide and seek instead; I found Billy behind a tractor, Milly behind the hen coop then I hid behind a haystack, I was there for ages, so long I nodded off, eventually I went indoors and asked where the kids were, apparently they’d gone home ages ago.
Then she told me my supper was cold, she’d made some pasta, tag something…tagioly…tagetty…taggy-telly, that’s it” ; “talking of the telly”, said Ted, “I’ve been watching too much TV just lately, even my dreams are having advert breaks, the wife suggested I started reading more so I turned the subtitles on”.
Babs was wearing her new camouflage jacket, she’d bought it to blend in when walking around her pastures, “I was told the camping shop sold them, well, I walked round and round the shop but I could find them, eventually an assistant helped me and I got this one” ; “it’s still got a bright yellow price tag on it”, said Suzie at the next table, “that’s so I can find it before I head off outdoors”, Babs replied.
“My wife went shopping for Christmas decorations yesterday”, said George, “and I thought I’d tag along, I’ve already moved the tree indoors and she’s keen to get dressing it, we needed to get some dangly bits and pieces that the dog would leave alone, he has this annoying habit of attacking baubles and pinching candy canes, we’re worried that one year he’ll end up at the vets with a severe case of tinselitis!
Colin, the king of corn and terrible taglines was off – “some nuts were playing tag, the peanut yelled I’m gonna cashew! – I’ve been making pasta recently, I’m pretty good apart from a Fusilli mistakes – pasta with a cold is mac ‘n sneeze – I spend a lot on pasta, it’s worth every Penne – witches wear price tags so they know which witch is which – I made up a joke about a tv controller, it wasn’t remotely funny – I asked the shop assistant where the decorations were and she said, Aisle B, Home for Christmas – my tree was happy when I removed the decorations, it was absolutely delighted…..”
All that talk of pasta earlier reminded Landlord Len about one of Maggies favourite jokes and after everyone had left he started muttering it to himself – “Macaroni, Penne and Spaghetti were drinking wine in a bar one evening, they saw a noodle sitting by itself and thought it looked Cannalloni”; he heard her laugh then whispser, ‘it’s pasta your bedtime, Len, off you go.’
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Thanks to Denise at GirlieOnTheEdge for hosting Six Sentence Storieswhere this weeks word is Tag.
I’ve been a bit greedy this week and come up with a piece for each of the pictures – see you at the other end if you make it that far!
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I’m probably expecting too much. After all, it’s pretty old and suffering from a severe case of disrepair. What do you think?
Sorry, I was forgetting you can’t see it! I’m trying to get this old radiogram to work. You remember them. They were like fancy wooden chests, only instead of being filled with junk they had a built-in radio and record player, or gramophone as they used to call them. That’s where the name came from. Radiogr…well, you get it. It used to belong to my Grandma, her radiograma you could say!
Right, I’ve plugged it in. Lets turn it on. Hey listen, there’s a sqeeking noise. I do believe it’s come to life! Let’s open the doors down here and find some vinyl records.
Now, what have we got? This one’s by Lonnie Donegonegon, here’s some guy playing a piano, Liber something or other, one by Buddy Holly – I guess that’s a Christmas record! It’s still squeaking, so I’ll have a go playing this one, it’s by the Duke of Ellington…..wooo, a bloody mouse just jumped out!
Forget it, Alexa, play me some music.
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Here’s a vinyl I meant to add to my sausage story on Saturday, but forgot to!
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The second picture brought to mind something I wrote back in 2008
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She was staring into space focusing on nothing at all
I asked her why She said because
Her eyes were filled with tears Which trickled down her cheeks
I asked her why She said because
Her brow was heavy with sadness Her face etched with sorrow
I asked her why She said because
She knew that I was leaving She knew I had to go
She asked me why I said because
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In 1969 Lennon and McCartney wrote and recorded a short song entitled Because. Co-incidence or not, the melody is almost identical to Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata played backwards. The piece was also composed in the same key, C minor. The vocals where sung in three part harmony, then over-recorded three times with the tiniest time delay to create the sound of nine voices. It also features a soaring vocal line reminiscent of Allegri’s Miserere. The modest accompaniment of an electric harpsichord and Lennon’s guitar make this simple composition one of the most satisfying of all the Beatles songs. Sit back and enjoy.
This week’s wordsatThe Sunday Whirlare – thistles horns stiff treat wee chirping fit down stick blushing out moment.
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The moment I saw the prompt words a story entered my mind but it was somewhat…shall I say…risqué! Even I was blushing as my mischevious muse read it out to me. She’s worried that AI might make her redundant in the future, so she’s been taking quite a few risks of late. I decided to stick her on the naughty step and try writing down something unaided.
An hour later nothing was going on in the ‘ole brain box, so I thought I’d treat myself to a wee dram, there’s nothing like a stiff drink to get the mind moving!
A deer stood mid the thistles, tickled by the thorns, chirping birds they whistled, whilst perched upon its horns….
No, I don’t think it’s fit for purpose, but at least I’ve gobbled up all the words while talking to you!
I glanced through the window. You wouldn’t believe what I saw. A vision of beauty, laying there, begging to be swept up and carried away. Curvaceous, sensual. Pale pink skin I so wished to stroke.
I had to do it. Throwing caution aside, I flung open the door and ventured inside.
It was the best thing I’ve ever done, and the tastiest sausage I’ve ever eaten.