To Mow or not to Mow (with apologies to Will Shakespeare)

To mow or not to mow the back lawn? That is the question

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous backache.

Or  take a sea of paracetamol and just get on with it?

Or by opposing them,  just work through the pain? 

St George's Day

It's St George's day, today

But at home we have to stay.

No celebrations at the pub. 

Or visit restaurants for grub.

We may think its such a drag

But we still can fly the flag.

Let us show that we are strong.

As this lockdown could be long.

We are British,  have great resilience

We love our NHS in all their brilliance.

Working hard to keep us well

In conditions of pure hell.

We may be bored and scream and shout

But unless you need to, don't go out.

Read a book or watch the telly. 

Bake a cake or make some jelly.

Play some music, text a friend.

To stop you going round the bend!

The sun is shining, such a boon.

Birds are singing, nesting soon.

The seasons pass, then come once more.

Nature's timeless beauty at our door.

We can still stroll, go for a jog

Or walk to exercise the dog.

Keep our distance on that mile. 

And don't forget to wear a smile! 😁

Temptation

I have really been struggling with a certain temptation the last few days and the urge to do this thing is now overwhelming me. 

Giving in to this particular temptation is not really me at all, but I will have to learn to live with it. The lockdown is really no excuse for what I am about to do, but I feel I must unashamedly reveal this urge to you all. I fear it will be a really shocking revelation to all who know me well.  In the past I have always been able to control this urge and live quite happily not actually doing it - but not anymore.

Right  here goes...

I'm going to iron my underwear, socks and pyjamas!

Untitled

She was waiting for him in eager anticipation, lying  writhing on their king size bed.

"I need you" ,she gasped. "Please give it to me now?" she pleaded. "I need it so badly".

She heard him softly growl, his voice breathless  "I'm here now woman and I'm going to give you what you're craving. I hate seeing you frustrated this way, when I know you are longing for me to sastify you. I know exactly what you crave"

She looked at him lovingly and as her eyes strayed downwards she could see the bulge in his trousers.

"Oh, my darling  please give me your all, as hard as you like,  make me scream.

 I don't care if it hurts even,  just do it to me now"

"Right woman" he said masterfully " just roll over on your stomach and bend over the side of the bed and I'll give you the best you've ever had. If it hurts, too bad as you really have been asking for it"

She shrieked with relief and delight 

as he pulled the large tube of muscle rub from his trouser pocket and proceeded to rub it in her aching back.

EDDIE

EDDIE.




Edward Ashton knew he wasn’t the most good looking man in the world - in fact he assumed he was rather ugly. Hadn’t his mother always told him so? His henpecked father had to agree, for fear of reprisals from his waspish-tongued wife.

“You’ll never find a girl friend looking the way you do” his mother had said sneeringly, on more than one occasion, during his troubled boyhood and teenage years. He had no siblings to compare his looks to, which he supposed was a blessing. His mother was very attractive and knew it and his father was quite a handsome man - if somewhat lacking a backbone! Eddie got the distinct impression he was a terrible disappointment and also an embarrassment to them. His nose was too big, his mother had constantly pointed out and being only five foot 6 inches tall and rather solidly built, he lacked any self confidence whatsoever and never bothered talking to any girls, let alone ask one out!

“You were such a beautiful baby too” she’d sighed, when glancing at a silver-framed snapshot of him sporting a blue romper suit, with white smocking. Eddie had grimaced and thought she would probably have taken him back for a refund if it were at all possible!

It was only years later that he discovered he was adopted when applying for a job. He mother had suggested, not very tactfully, that with his distinct lack of brains, he could probably get a job as a refuse collector with the local council and she’d reluctantly had to root out his birth certificate. The news came as quite a relief that he was not actually biologically related to his parents. He hadn’t excelled at any subjects at school and found reading and writing difficult, but nobody had realised he was dyslexic.

The condition was not really recognised in those days and he was branded the class “dunce” by the teachers and bullied at school for being “fat” and “thick“ At home he’d spent most of his free hours doodling and painting on bits of paper to while away the time. His mother had no time for home cooking, as she was always busy taking over in some project or another at the local women’s guild, so Eddie tended to exist on fish and chips and make do meals, after his father had died unexpectedly. The newly extra wealthy widow Ashton dined most evenings in classy restaurants with her snooty friends.

Eddie was thirty -five now and had been a bin man for fifteen years and didn’t mind it at all. There were even certain perks to the job occasionally; some of the things people threw away were still quite useful he decided and his little bed-sit was a credit to that. He had moved into a housing association apartment after his mother had sold up and moved to Spain for the good life with her new man friend.

One time, Eddie had found a decent coffee table and some shabby, but otherwise intact picture frames dumped in one of the bins. He found a good use for the latter, by framing some of his own paintings in them. He bought some mounts from the local art shop and revarnished the old wooden frames. His small lounge/bedroom was starting to resemble a mini art gallery. If only he had a like-minded someone to share his passion with.




Every Saturday, Eddie would browse the local market to buy fresh vegetables and produce. Since he moved into his bed-sit he’d gone on a diet and lost two stones. He was surprised at the difference it made. His old clothes were hanging on him, so he treated himself to a whole new, trendier wardrobe.

He’d noticed there seemed to be several new stalls in situ and one in particular caught his eye. It specialised in art, selling original oils and watercolours, by an artist called Vanessa Merry. What a lovely name, thought Eddie, who casually wondered if she lived up to it! He was sure he’d heard of her before, she’d probably held an exhibition at the local library or something. A man in his late thirties appeared to be managing the stall this weekend and as Eddie was studying all the art work admiringly, they got into a conversation.

“ Hi, I’m David Merry” the man volunteered. “Vanessa and myself both paint” he added “though I think her work is far superior to mine; she seems to have a natural gift of catching the light, something I can never quite achieve”

“Yes, they are beautiful,” agreed Eddie, as he studied a watercolour of the town bridge over the river. “Is she here today? I’d like to meet her, as I do a bit of painting myself - er, just as a hobby though, I‘m not very good”

“Afraid not, she had a hip operation two months ago, but hopes to be back on the stall next week, but at least she’s had time to concentrate on her latest art projects” said David, with a broad smile. “Why don’t you bring a few of your pictures along for her to look at. She has quite a critical eye and also runs art classes with a colleague at the local college, twice a week”

“I might just do that” replied Eddie, who’d never let anyone look at his pictures before. “Right now though, I’d like to buy this local watercolour please”

He hadn’t a clue where he’d hang it, but felt compelled to purchase it, as he’d fallen in love with its soft, pastel shades and the way the sunlight played on the water. He thought Dave was a really great bloke and wondered what his wife Vanessa was like and looked forward to meeting this very artistic lady next Saturday. When he got home he surveyed his own paintings with a very critical eye and took down a few of what he deemed were his best efforts, leaving plenty of space for his new purchase. He carefully packed them in a hold-all and put them in the tiny lobby, ready to take next weekend.


Eddie was a bag of nerves that Saturday morning; armed with his paintings, he set off to meet the artist. He couldn’t see any one at first that he thought might be her, but as he got nearer the art stall, he saw a very tiny young woman, who couldn’t have been more than 4ft tall. She was leaning on a specially adapted walking stick and chatting earnestly to David Merry. Eddie thought how pretty she was as he got nearer. She had dark blonde hair and he noticed immediately that her smiling eyes were a pretty hazel.

“Glad you remembered to come” said Dave “ this is Vanessa - did you bring your pictures, by the way?” Eddie shook hands with Vanessa and nodded - and fell in love instantly, with her engaging smile.





“Pleased to meet you ” he said, blushing slightly. “I bought one of your paintings last week and David said you’d give some of mine the once over” He took three pictures from his bag and Vanessa studied each one in turn.

“These are really quite good” she said. “I can see you have a natural ability Eddie, where did you study art?”

“Nowhere” he replied “Though I’ve always enjoyed painting, sort of taught myself I suppose”

“Why don’t you enrol at the college for my art classes, if you’re free one evening a week? I’m sure my colleague would love to meet you”

Eddie smiled inwardly; he was always free, wasn’t he? - and what had he got to lose? "Thanks, I’d like to - I hope you’re recovering well from your hip operation, by the way” he replied.

“Thanks, getting there” Vanessa replied. I’ve had one op already, it’s one of the complications of being a very small person. We can sometimes have problems with our joints, it can be very painful, but at least it doesn’t stop me painting” she added, cheerfully.

When he got home Eddie decided he would definitely enrol for the new art classes starting in the autumn, as he really wanted to learn more and apart from that he wanted to see Vanessa again. What a pity she was married, he thought.

A few weeks later it was the day of the first art class and Eddie was a bag of nerves, as he approached the entrance to the college that evening, but he soon realised he needn’t have worried, when he got a warm welcome from Vanessa and her colleague Margaret who was a pleasant lady in her early fifties. The other students were friendly too and soon complimented Eddie on his fine work. After a few weeks he grew in confidence and decided to enrol in adult literacy classes as well, as he longed to be able to read and write properly, something that had always been a sense of embarrassment to him in his youth. He discussed it with Vanessa, whom he’d grown very close to and she encouraged him to “go for it”

Months later after everyone had gone home, Vanessa asked Eddie to stay for a chat. “Let’s go for a drink” she said “There’s something I want to discuss with you”

Eddie was quite intrigued as they entered “The Red Rose” pub in the high street. It turned out that Vanessa was so impressed with Eddie’s art work she wanted to sell them on her stall and asked him to go into partnership with her, in running it.

“Well of course I’d love to, but what about your husband Dave” asked Eddie, wide eyed in amazement. “Won’t he mind?”

“Husband? - Dave’s not my husband, silly!” laughed Vanessa “He’s my older brother - he only helps out on the stall now and again”

Eddie leant forward and clasped her small hands in his “ Then I think we’ll make a great team” he said.

She responded by putting her arms around him and giving him a lovely smacker on his lips.





“Yes and in more ways than one - I’ve been dying to kiss you for ages! I love you Eddie Ashton - will you marry me?” Everyone within earshot in the pub whistled and cheered.


Well it was a leap year after all!

Espana Phohibida!

In 2020, I was off to sunny Spain 

Viva Espana

But I never did get on the ruddy plane

Viva Espana

I didn't get suntanned on the beach

Viva Espana

All was closed and totally out of reach.

Viva Espana

But at least I'm well and still alive

Viva Espana

Love to you. Long may we all survive

Viva Espana

Truth Hurts

When a beloved partner dies suddenly, at least you can console yourself that they loved you and you are glad of the good times and the last holidays etc you spent together.

Then completely by chance you find out something about them that completely shatters the memories. You think that the whole relationship was built on lies and you cannot get past the awful truth, you discovered about the one you love. I wish you were here still, so that I could ask you why you turned out to be a lying, cheating scumbag. You were often so judgemental about other people's lives - what a hypocrite you were!  Was it just the two I now know about or were there more?  I hope they were worth it Paul. No wonder your heart packed up. I thought you really loved me. How naive was I not to see the signs, that are all so obvious to me now?  I'm such a dumb blonde.

You never really know anybody it seems...