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ISSUE 238 Date: 25th May 2012

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Issue 238

Page 2

Thoughts & Quotes ...

Anonymous ramblings

Faith is the opposite of logic

Fate is only for those unable to control their own futures.

Few women admit their age. Fewer men act theirs.

First deserve, then desire.

Five out of four people have problems with fractions.

For every action there is an equal and opposite government program.

For the common man can do nothing: The fact he undertakes the task makes

him uncommon.

For him that stealeth, or borroweth and returneth not, this book from its owner,

let it change into a serpent in his hand and rend him. Let him be struck with

palsy, and all his members blasted. Let him languish in pain, crying aloud for

mercy, and let there be no surcease to this agony till he sing in dissolution. Let

bookworms gnaw his entrails...and when at last he goeth to his final punish-

ment, let the flames of Hell consume him forever. Anonymous "curse" on book

thieves from a monastery library.

Forgive and forget.

Form is temporary. Class is permanent.

Friends may come and go, but enemies accumulate.

Friends help you move. Real friends help you move bodies.

Friendship is like peeing in your pants: Everyone can see it but only you can

feel its warmth.

For every negative in life, there is a greater positive.

Friends come and go, but enemies are here forever.

Freedom is not free.

Freedom comes at a cost: hope is free.

Friends are like a four leaf clover, hard to find but good to have.

Getting lost is not a bad thing it’s just not that good either

Go big or go home...variation, go hard or go home (Go big or don't go at all)

Good friends are like stars — you don't always see them, but you know they are

always there.

Good things come to those who wait.

Government philosophy: If it ain't broke, fix it 'til it is.

Greatest gift one man can give another; the awesome responsibility of free-

dom.

Grass is greener on the other side, but you'll eventually have to mow it.

Greed is the mother of all sins.

Great minds think alike. (or Fools seldom differ)

Guitars are like speeches, they must be in tune.

Great ideas are like diamonds; hard to find, not too useful, and impossible to

hold onto.

Issue 238

Page 3

LIFE OBSERVATIONS

It seems that very few people truly notice the beauty of trees in blossom and fresh green leaf,

which are all around them in the spring, and make this such a wonderful time of year.

Is there anything more annoying than a doorbell not working?

Why is it that manufacturers of small objects of desire such as doorbells design them to require

two different sorts of screwdriver to attach them to said doorframe and fail to provide the holes

through which said different type of screw can be so screwed. Why do they presume the pur-

chaser will have two different screwdrivers in their possession and the ability to puncture said

outer casing prior to inserting screws? Why do they fail to mention the small plastic strip round

the battery has to be removed or said doorbell will not play its annoying tune rather than going

ding-dong as the last one did for several years until the unfortunate incident with the pizza deliv-

ery man: this information would have been most helpful as to discover same once the bell hous-

ing was attached on finding the bell would not chime was somewhat annoying. Nevertheless, I

am sure two blood blisters caused by the lethal snap on mechanism will heal just as quickly as

one. (Handy hint: dressing making scissors are no use at all to prise open the casing, neither is a

teaspoon handle in the shape of an apostle, nor a butter knife.)

You can tell so much about a person by the way they slice up a sponge cake into slices.

Online bill paying is meant to be cheap, quick and easy. But this presupposes that whoever is at the other

end, has up-to-date data and information.

Sometimes it’s easier and less stressful, to confront a real person face-to-face.

The millions of dandelion clocks on the field behind my house, though a nuisance, are a remarkable sight,

and I imagine, must be a similar sight to the one that greeted the Israelites, when manna came down from

heaven in the wilderness, to feed them.

upend v

(transitive) To end up; to set on end.

To tip or turn over.

To destroy, invalidate, overthrow, or defeat.

pussyfoot v

To move silently, stealthily, or furtively.

To act timidly or cautiously.

To use euphemistic language or circumlocution.

fishmonger n

A shop that sells fish.

A person who sells fish.

tandoor n

A cylindrical clay oven used, in Middle Eastern and

South Asian cuisine, to make flat bread, or to bake

meat.

nether adj

Lower; under.

Lying beneath, or conceived as lying beneath, the earth‟s surface.

worsted n

Wool yarn made from long strands of wool.

Wiki image

CLIVE‟s three free e-books

NOW PUBLISHED on RBW and issuu

http://www.risingbrookwriters.org.uk/DynamicPage.aspx?PageID=52

http://issuu.com/risingbrookwriters

Issue 238

Page 4

Steph‟s FREE poetry e-chapbook is now published on www.issuu.com/risingbrookwriters

and on RBW main site

http://www.risingbrookwriters.org.uk/DynamicPage.aspx?PageID=52

The chapbook is illustrated by some of her original artwork.

She is a member of Stafford Art Group and has exhibited some pieces locally.

Random words:

Close, gale, special, darkness, protest, cushion, Sunday, minute, rain-

bow, sugar, unnatural, diamond

Assignment: WINDOWS or ‘the last call’

Random words: PMW

Humphrey the hippopotamus lived at Carshalton Zoo and Wildlife Sanctuary, along with Ambrosia,

the African elephant. Their pretty young keeper, Kate, would feed, water and clean them out every

day. She was meticulous in her attention to detail when it came to the animals’ welfare. She was

the daughter of the centre’s founder, Professor Gray, a specialist in zoology and natural sciences,

and her didactic and scholarly background had had a profound influence on Kate, so that she had

travelled to Africa many times. She was appalled and horrified by the results of ivory poaching she

had witnessed, and the seizure of African parrots and small primates such as marmosets, for sale

in the West. Great caution was required on such trips though, because those involved were dan-

gerous and reckless characters, who would stop at nothing to pursue their evil and lucrative trade

in endangered species.

Cryptic clue: You‟d find the first part on a golf course, and the sec-

ond happening in a game of snooker. Together, they make a refresh-

ing change.

Humphrey was a specialist in the care of hippos, which was difficult as he lived in Carshalton.

His neighbours were didactic to a degree and viewed with caution a man keeping a hippopotamus

in his garden.

Kate, Humps dear wife assured them that he was meticulous about keeping it clean and prissy

over it's food.

Nevertheless a group of neighbours got together to do something about it, having found out

that the main hippo food was called 'ambrosia of the African swampland' and it had a peculiar smell

when growing. They made a decision to march on Humphrey‟s drive way, so with banners and

shouting "We have come to seize your hippo in the name of animal welfare,' they had brought a

circus caravan to put him in. (EH)

Issue 238

Page 5

PMW

Assignment - Memories.

Memories are the strangest things,

For when you‟re young I find

Each detail‟s there in sharp relief,

And swiftly comes to mind.

But as the years roll on and on,

They start to fade away,

So when you start a sentence

You forget what you want to say.

Things that happened long ago

Are easy to recall.

But of what was said this very morn

I cannot think at all.

I go upstairs to fetch some thing

And can‟t remember what.

So down I come and start again

Because I quite forgot.

Oh yes, it‟s quite depressing

To admit I‟ve gone to pot

And I‟m no more on top of things….

The sharpest knife I‟m not!

The only thing I know for sure,

Befuddled though I be,

Is just how much I still love you,

And what you mean to me.

I wish I had a £5 note

For every time they say

At least you have your memories

To lighten up your day.

Assignment - Dragons.

A man rolled up at a public house.

Quite late it was at night.

Seeking a bed and a hearty meal,

But all he got was a fright.

The landlord‟s wife wasn‟t welcoming.

Didn‟t want the trade, you see.

Annoyed to be woken from her bed…

A right old misery.

“Take pity, dear wife, on a traveller, please.

Then I‟ll be on my way once more.

A crust of bread and some ale‟s not much.

Then I‟ll ne‟er again darken your door”.

“Be gone!” says she, by way of reply.

“I don‟t want to take your shilling!

Be gone, and don‟t ever come back this way.

To feed you I am not willing.”

Just then, the traveller saw the sign.

Above the door it hung.

Bearing the name of the public house

In the winter wind it swung.

“Before I leave, I‟d like a word

With the man of the house, my dear.

I‟ve spoken to the dragon, now

Can George please come down here?”

Some weeks ago while rummaging, PC Daniel Smithers had noticed the tag on

Randolph’s ankle and had thought to himself, I’ll keep a close eye on that one!

He knew the station sergeant was keen to boost the crime clear-up rate in

Trentby, which, at just 2% was at an all time low, and Smithers saw an opportunity

of boosting his own ratings and prospects of promotion at the same time, and with

very little effort on his part. All good news as far as he was concerned.

So it was that he saw it as his civic duty as protector of the public and up-

holder of law and order, that whenever Randolph was in the charity shop, PC Smith-

ers would hide behind a rail of clothing, or pile of boxes, to spy on Randolph and

catch him in flagrante, or red-handed, or up to no good.

What he was unaware of, was that Randolph was well aware of him, with his

large, bulky frame and clumsiness, and took a very dim view. On more than one oc-

casion, he complained to his shop colleagues or customers, or anyone within ear-

shot, ‘Hey, I’ll have him! That counts as police harassment, that does!’

Tiffany Topliss, 29 year-old reporter with The Daily Oracle, drove her red Fiat Panda

through the wide gates of Bluddschott Hall, her tyres crunching on the gravel, and

came to a halt outside the imposing oak front door. Hopping out of the car, she

straightened her short skirt and grabbed the bell pull. Down the empty, hollow corri-

dors of the hall, the sound echoed, eventually reaching the scullery, where Mrs

Marge Potts, housekeeper, was busy discussing the day’s to do list with the cook

and the maid.

‘That’ll be that reporter from The Oracle, I expect. What a racket! We’ll get

back to this in a mo, ladies.’

Irritated, Marge opened the creaking door just wide enough to peer out, and

check that it was indeed Miss Topliss. Then she promptly slammed it, shouting,

‘Tradesmen round the back, if you don’t mind!’

Man

y th

anks

to G

S f

or

loan

of

the

stat

ue

for

ph

oto

gra

phic

purp

ose

s.

Workers’ Playtime Project

RBW are delighted to announce the free e-book of this project has

been uploaded on to the RBW main website,

Issuu.com/risingbrookwriters

profile page and our Facebook

page

Control/CLICK the picture

The project‟s book is crammed

with colour pictures and

recorded memories.

The actual manuscript is

currently with the printer

and will be released shortly.

Copies of the book will be do-

nated to local libraries and to

all the participating groups.

The main website also contains

MP3 tracks of the memories

for those who prefer to listen to

accounts of oral

social history.

Very shortly the distribution

round of workshops will begin when those taking part will see their

memories in print for the first time and be able to hear the memories of

people from other groups taking part. A Power Point Presentation has

also been prepared for their enjoyment.

Issue 238

Page 8

Assignment conversation:

‘Don’t use the teapot,’ said the grey haired woman with the thin lips and thinner smile. ‘Use a tea

bag in each cup. It’s very wasteful but otherwise you’ll spend all day throwing stewed tea down the

sink. And only half a spoon of instant coffee in each cup.’

The white haired woman smiled looking for cream: there was no cream.

‘The sink has a plunger with a tube so you can pour slops down it without dirtying the water so

much.’ The grey-haired woman pointed at the stainless steel sink unit, and tapped her foot for at-

tention.

The white haired woman smiled.

‘The cakes are in tins, some are truly awful, there’s only one knife. Each cake needs to be cut

into finger slices, don’t give them too much or there’ll be no profit. There are the green serviettes

and those flower doilies.’

The white haired woman smiled, looking for fine linen: there was no fine linen.

‘The money dish is on top of the cupboard, don’t leave it un attended. Give all notes to Theo

immediately.’

The white haired woman smiled.

‘The milk is in the fridge on the top shelf. The sugar is here,’ she tapped a sugar bag. The

boiler, have a I told you about the boiler?’ She waved towards a stainless steel box in the corner.

The white haired woman smiled, looking for Demerara: there was no Demerara.

‘You don’t have to fill it. It’s always boiling hot. Just like an urn. You’ve used an urn before,

haven’t you?’ with that the tight-lipped woman with her tight clipped voice and tightly held clip

board strode away across the floor boards to bully some poor man erecting a sign board. The metal

seggs in the heels of sensible shoes were clopping with each step.

The white haired woman smiled as she rolled up her sleeves and washed her hands. Welcome

to voluntary work, she thought scanning the disaster that was the vicarage kitchen, she would rise

above this mess and set it to rights before the guests arrived, she had after all been the chef de pa-

tisserie for forty five years at the Hotel Royale de San Malon. The other matter was more important,

the new vicar, that pinched old-maid, was clearly very unhappy, she allowed her unhappiness to

overflow and impinge on the lives of others. Twas ever thus!

Random words (PMW)

The great film, “The Shawshank Redemption” features the music of The Ink Spots, who came to fame

with their hit, “Whispering Grass” in the TV series “It Ain‟t Half Hot, Mum”.

Shawshank‟s hero, Andy Dufresne, brutalised and bleeding at the hands of vicious guards is put in soli-

tary confinement, but as the film evolves, he wins the respect of other inmates, much to the fury of the

corrupt warden.

Andy sets up a prison library, helped by Boggs, a not very bright, somewhat sycophantic inmate,

who is responsible for a humorous episode, when he describes “The Count of Monte Cristo” as being by

Alexander Dumb Ass, due to his incorrect pronunciation.

When fortune eventually swings Andy‟s way, he escapes by means of a poster of Hollywood queen, Rita

Hayworth, visiting vengeance on the brutal warden in a most appropriate way, and finds sanctuary in

Mexico.

Cryptic clue -

Defend the animal‟s lair and produce a place of refuge

and beauty.

Issue 238

Page 9

Before breakfast SMS 2012 Sandown IoW 2012 Watery dawn, nacre on the roof ridges, sneaks with shards of mandarin across dark sand.

White cliffs, wearing streaks of magenta, waiting, silent, rebuffing all comers. Find damp seat, cover with newspaper. Spindrift pillows float across salt-blackened groynes, No gulls cry. A lonely black-headed bird circles. Wait by reeds. Any time now.

Caged, alpha male, Snoopy stirs. Bellows his lungs to announce the day. Sniffs the air for prey. Lion king, despite circumstances.

Window panes tremble. Dew glisters on mown grass. Sands sigh their secrets, and porridge boils and bacon sizzles in all the B&Bs along the front. Welcome to Thursday. Going home tomorrow

Issue 238

Page 10

RBW

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“Mornin‟, George. How‟re yer beans doin‟?”

“Oh, hello,” George replied absentmindedly. “They‟re not. Never seen „em so small

an‟ paltry. It‟s the cold weather. Everything‟s slowed up.”

“Tell me about it. It‟s been a shocker. My lumbago‟s been a proper pain. About the

only thing that hasn‟t slowed up. Worse than ever this year.”

“My Flo‟s suffering with her gammy leg. So‟s everyone with rheumaticky joints”.

“Hm. Right crippled up with my lumbago, I am,” said Gladys, sucking air in through

her false teeth. “Don‟t know what to do with meself sometimes”.

“The joys of getting older”, George commented, sympathetically.

“Not much joy about it”, Gladys dismissed his effort at sympathy like a Raphael

Nadal forehand being smashed over the net at Wimbledon. “Have you spoken to those new

neighbours of yours yet?” she changed the subject.

“Not really. Just passed the time of day, to be friendly. How about you?”

“No”.

“Quite a looker, isn‟t she, the wife.”

”Don‟t know so much about wife. Partner, I believe is what she calls herself. Funny

sort of expression, if you ask me. Always sounds to me like a plumbing business, or paint-

ers and decorators firm, partner.And them with two kids too! What‟s wrong with good old

marriage, is what I say? No commitment, the younger generation, and look where it‟s got

us. Kids on drugs, binge drinking, living off benefits….”

George nodded in sympathy. “Well if you ask me, it‟s not nice”.

“My Flo says you can tell what sort of a family they are by the curtains.”

“What curtains?”

“Exactly. They don‟t have any curtains. Not decent. Not proper for a nice street like

Laburnum Avenue. Being able to see into each room like that. What‟s wrong with a nice

bit of net, Flo says? The whole world and his wife don‟t need to see all yer goins on”.

Gladys nodded in agreement, tutting her disapproval. “Bet she doesn‟t suffer from lum-

bago, mind!”

“I wonder when they‟re going to get round to cutting their back lawn?” She mused.

“Believe they do a lot of voluntary work…charitable stuff, so I heard. Probably too

busy doin good”, George told her.

“Charity begins at home. Their so-called „garden‟ is letting down the whole

neighbourhood. They should think about the good of those of us as have to put up with the

likes of them!”

“I said to my Flo that perhaps they haven‟t got a mower. Told the young lady I‟d be

glad to go round and cut it for her, but Flo wasn‟t havin any of that. „What er with that big,

strapping husband of ers….er, I mean partner, and you with yer pension book and bus

pass. Should be ashamed to even let you think about mowing it for them. But then, women

like that aven‟t got any shame. Don‟t you go talking to er again, our George‟. Only trying

to be neighbourly, Gladys.”

Just then, George was aware that the net curtain at his kitchen window was being

drawn aside, and his wife‟s face appeared, glaring out at him. A sharp tap on the glass fol-

lowed.

“Ah well. Better go. Can‟t stand here all day, Gladys, putting the world to rights.

Give my best to your Fred. P‟raps I‟ll see him later for a pint and game of dominoes?”

“Oh no! He‟s been told to cut out beer. It‟s his cholesterol. The doctor is quite con-

cerned about it. Besides, I need him to stay in and help me clean out the spare room. Our

Linda‟s coming to stay next week. She‟s back from Canada. Her boss sent her out there.

„Indispensible‟, that‟s what he said she was, to the company.

Another tap on the glass. “Yes, I‟m sure. Well, I‟d better go. Got to take Flo to get her

feet done.” (PMW)

Issue 238

Page 14

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,

And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles

made:

Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the

honey-bee,

And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes

dropping slow,

Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the

cricket sings;

There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple

glow,

And evening full of the linnet's wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day

I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the

shore;

While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements

grey,

I hear it in the deep heart's core.

W B Yates, Lake Isle of Innisfree

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