Arthur entered The Baaamy Inn followed by a gust of icy air, “blimey it’s cold today, the pond on the green’s frozen solid, I remember when we were kids we used to slide around on it but today they are not allowed to have fun like we used to; I saw young Tommy crouched at the edge tapping the ice with a stone, I asked what he was doing and said he was making a hole so the fish could breath!”
Over at the knitting circle, Natalie’s fellow knitwits were intrigued by what she was making; “it’s a wooly string vest for my husband”, she said, “when I told him about it he asked if I could make him a fishing net, I said I wouldn’t know how to and he said, ‘easy, you just stitch a load of holes together’!”
I treated myself to some fish and chips from The Happy Plaice t’other day”, said Babs, “they used to wrap your meal in newspaper, ‘today’s news is tomorrows fish and chip paper,’ they used to say; I remember hearing about a guy who saw an article in his wrapper about an unclaimed Lotto prize worth a fortune and suddenly realised it was his, well, the next day an ex-girlfriend of his saw a picture of him in her chippie wrapper and he was holding a huge cheque – now they are a happy wealthy couple!
On the other side of the village is The Fish Inn, you may recall me telling you about Geoff who likes a sneaky drink, so when his wife asks where he’s going he grabs his rod and tackle and says ‘fishin’, anyway, despite being in competition with one another, Landlord Len and Publican Pete are quite good friends and now again they have an ‘eat-each-other’s’ night when they swap chefs for the evening; tomorrow the Baaarmies will be enjoying Pete’s fabulous fish pie, and the Fishers, Len’s luscious lamb hotpot!
Colin was wound up and ready to go, “fish keep their money in a river bank”, he said, “a fish blushed because it saw the pond’s bottom – long time no sea, said one dried fish to the other dried fish – sturgeons work in fish hospitals – a squashed crab is a crushedacean – a greedy cab is shellfish – a fish with no eyes is a fsh – fishes are clever because they swim in schools – goldfishes have holidays around the globe – dam said the fish when it swam into a wall – a fishes favourite movie is The Codfather…….”
Several years ago when Len’s dear Maggie had but a few weeks of her precious life remaining, they bought a pair of koi carps for the pub’s pond, the larger one they called Loi, and the smaller one Moi; often when Len wanders over to look at them, Moi suddenly hides behind a lily leaf; “why do you do that?” he once asked, “because I’m a little coy”, he heard Maggie say!
I doubt you remember me. I hated school. I had no interest in learning, which is why I left with no qualifications.
You tried hard to persude me how much richer my life would be if I was to lose myself in a good book now and again. However, all that time studying Richard the Second by the immortal bard never encouraged me to read a novel! I failed English Lit miserably.
You tried even harder to teach me grammar. I failed that too. The only grammar I was interested in was my Grannie!
Thirty years after leaving school I read my first book. I liked it. I read another and another. I thought I’d have a go at writing, and found myself more articulate than ever I thought before (sorry, that sentence is a bit clumsy!)
I’m in my twentieth year of blogging now. I’ve written over three thousand short stories and even a few poems.
What I am trying to say is that something must have got lodged in my brain during the five long years you tried teaching me. For that, I am eternally grateful.
Tom loves his drum kit. He loves his twin daughters too and he named them Anna-one, Anna-two, a cymbal of his affection for them. Just lately his neigbours have become annoyed by the noise and are promising repercussions if he doesn’t quieten things down. But he’s sticking to his drumming, they’ll not beat him!
It was just another evening at The Baaamy Inn and usual the chat was flowing as rapidly as the beer; “the wife and I went for a coffee with Jane and John t’other day”, said Arthur, “they told us they’ve decided to renew their wedding vows, Jane said she’ll wear the same silver shoes she wore the first time round and John said, ‘yep, silver to match your hair’ – Jane looked at his shiny head and said ‘I guess you’ll be coming barefoot then’!’’
Bert had joined them, Dirty Berty as he’s known due to the fact that he’s always covered from head to foot in splodges of mud; “my lady is obsessed with cleanliness”, he said, “yesterday I found her in the chicken shed polishing the hen’s beaks, she said she’s fed up with me always looking filthy, so I reminded her that farming is a dirty business, and anyway, I have a bath once a week to which she replied “yes, you love lounging a pool of filthy water”, if she goes first I promise I’ll play the Hippopotomus song at her funeral!” – Suzie at the next table leapt to her feet and started to sing, “mud mud glorious mud, there’s nothing quite like it for cooling the blood!”
“Do you remember the time Dick the Vic officiated at a nudist wedding?”, asked Babs, “he was asked to undress accordingly which didn’t please him, so in the end they agreed to let him wear one thing, his dog collar; the bride had flowers in her hair and the groom a posy tied to his you-know-what and the vows went something like ‘to love, honour and obey, in dress and undress’, well at the end of the service they all sat down and Dick felt a prick when he sat on a thistle and uttered an inappropriate expletive for a man of the cloth – even though he wasn’t wearing one at the time!
Dick, aka the Reverend Richard is known for his sense of humour, he once wrote a prayer for Landlord Len which sits in a frame at the end of the bar – our lager, which art in barrels, hallowed be thy drink, I will be drunk at home as in the tavern, give us this day our frothy head and forgive us our spillages as we forgive those who spill against us, and lead us not into incarceration but deliver us from hang overs, for thine is the beer,the bitter and the lager, forever and ever, barmen.
“I asked my wife if she wanted to renew our wedding vows” said Colin, “she said two wrongs don’t make a right – I vowed to love her 24/7, so remind me to give her a kiss on the twenty-forth of July – what animal swears the most? ahippopottymouth – a mouse that swears is a cursor – I thought I was done with stealing but I took an oath today, I swear I’ll give it back – I swear I’ll kill somebody if they fire me, said the bullet – I have a plastic surgery voucher I no longer want, I’ll sell for face value – I keep vouchers in the fridge so they don’t expire …..”.
Len has a photo of their wedding on his bedside table, he always looks at it for a few moments after he climbs beneath the duvet, then he turns his head towards the empty pillow that lays alongside his; all that talk of vows brought back a happy memory of those they made on their day; “I promise to always be the bubbles in your champagne”, he muttered – “I promise to always be the froth on your beer!” whispered Maggie.
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Thanks to Denise at GirlieOnTheEdge for hosting Six Sentence Stories where this week’s given word is Vow.
A solemn verger led a robed choir to their candlelit stalls.
I held my breath. Suddenly it burst into song.
Thirty voices swooping and swirling, this way then that. Soft as a whisper then loud as thunder. All thoughts were swept from my mind as music filled my soul.
Let the sea roar, let the floods clap their hands: let the hills be joyful together!
Forty minutes later, silence. The choir stood, turned and followed the verger, disappearing into the gloom from whence it came.
For a few moments we sat in silence wondering what just happened.
I could resist adding one of my favourite short choral works, The Lamb by John Tavener, based on William Blake’s poem of the same name. It’s on my funeral playlist by the way!
