Far away, across the field
The tolling of the iron bell
Calls the faithful to their knees
To hear the softly spoken magic spell.
Thatâs a nice little one Spitty.
http://i736.photobucket.com/albums/xx4/jemflux/james-joyce-quote.jpg
Yeh can say that again Jimmy.
Nottarf!
Just today,as we trundled at snail-pace around the magnificent motorway that is the M25 [try not to cry] I was explaining to a youngster I work with,as we pootled along in thick traffic at three miles a fortnight about âgrammatic inflexionââŠI chose to start with âoughâ-I managed to explain bough,through,though,cough and tough-at which point he swore at me and said I was making it up! This happened today-heâs 19 years old-no wonder âtxt spkâ is so popular with todayâs yoofâŠ
well they do say that English is a tricky language to learn - thatâs why weez started so young!
To learn the language is very easy, to learn how to spell it is another story.
http://i1318.photobucket.com/albums/t641/petzi23/There_zpssjlnqywm.png~original
Pootle/Pootled is such a lovely word, but Meg Hillier got herself into hot water a while back after stating that women cyclists should have slow lanes to âpootle alongâ to stop them from being intimidated by MAMILs (middle-aged men in lycra) whizzing by.
Still you could excuse her for being a pillock as she was Labour. .
Is that how you spell it up there? We spell it Labor.
Yep. We spell it proper. 
Proper spelling? I am impressed.
Not sure why our Labor pollies decided to drop the U, but so long as they all look after laboring people instead of the big knobs Iâm happy.
On the subject of spelling. Have you noticed that on the latest weather forecast there is a warning of high winds in the north of this country.
They are calling it âAbigaleâ. Clever eh! A BIG GALE.
Clever, or am I seeing it wrong?
Seriously speaking for a minute Pug. How you manage to do that job of yours is beyond my imagination, how can you put up with sitting in a cab mile after mile, day after day, year after year, it would drive me insane truly. I canât even stand short car journeys in the daughters car, and the bloody traffic jams, but someone who makes his living by driving has my deepest admiration, not to mention the patience of jobe (I know itâs spelt job, but I donât want to rub the job bit in too much)
I love the freedom of movement I have on a train.
Years ago going to work day after day on the same bus at the same time every morning, seeing the same old miserable faces, passing the same shops and buildings used to be agony for me, and that was all before I had to do a hard days work, but I always spared a thought for the poor bus driver who, when he dropped everyone off had to go back and do it all over again. God bless your stamina man and anyone else who drives for a living.
Maybe one of the Bards could dedicate a few lines to the all suffering working driver, tâwould not be before itâs time.
Ah Jem, I can wholy sympathise with Pug; for ten years I was a self employed courier, I drove the length and breadth of Britain and it was the best job I ever did. After returning from a long day on the road I would still look forward to a new destination the next day.
I was an apprentice trained engineer for most of my life seeing nothing except the four walls of the factory. Donât misunderstand, I loved working with my hands and making stuff, but come the weekend I would escape to the hills and dales. Had I not been made redundant I would have been in that job until the end of time (well, my time anyway) but it was the kick up the butt I needed and it was the best thing that happened to me.
I loved being out on the road, I was my own boss, and once people got to know that you could be trusted to deliver the goods, work flooded in. With no such thing as âSat Navâsâ all my routes were planned the night before using a map and A to Z and I have always had a Passion for maps it was a dream come true.
Those days are long gone now but every now and then I have to get my driving fix so off I go on a long oneâŠFor old times sake. Keep on Truckinâ PugâŠ
Maybe he too loves being on the road Bob Iâm sure heâll let us know. (cancel that poem Gumbud, theyâre all wasters)
I was just saying how much Iâd hate it, but we are all different. I worked sitting at a bench all me life and loved every minute of it, but that would probably be torture to some others, I would look out the window at all the crowds rushing about like flies in all sorts of weather while I worked away in a nice cosy workshop cracking jokes with the other bench hands, the money was great and the days flew by.
YO!,cherubs and seraphimsâŠ[sort yerselves out]
DOES MY BUM LOOK BIG IN THIS???
http://i68.tinypic.com/2a0t2v.jpg
This was taken as I entered the Dartford Tunnel,from my trailing escort vehicle. It gives SOME idea of the width,but not a lot regarding the lengthâŠwhich is what catches most of the âglory boysâ out,as they attempt to scream past-and end up just screaming. The home is 48 feet long,the trailer including swan-neck is 52 feetâŠand add my unit tugging the whole shebang,to find yourself trying to squeeze past a 65ft long âab-loadââŠguess whoâs NOT going to give way? In response to your question,Jem-Iâve had enough,now,mate. I should have stayed n the Marines,bruv. Took these all over Europe,E&W-all I got from that,was learning several languages. But in truth,Iâm gettinâ too old for this sh1t nowâŠ
Wow! thats some load Pug, fair play to you.
trust me,mate-that is FAR from the largest or longestâŠand some of the newer one even have chimneys!
my second eldest cousin - maternal side had a late birthed son after all her daughters had become married etc etc - he was the spoiled lad - he joined the army at one point and then became a long distant lorry driver from UK across the continent. I remember catching up with him and having a beer and asking what is it about the job you like? " well itâs getting away from UK and the kids for a while; traveling abroad and maybe traveling broads!! - there is a sense of freedom ; my own boss etc etc - lots of things all in one!!
fine by me I thought BUT not for me!
there was a young driver from hythe
kept seeing too much of his wife
so he took to the road and to Dover he drove
and across channel for new life!
He would deliver his loads near and far
bed down for the night in his car
then by dawn he was gawn, and nigh angel had flown
and he was alone once again near and far!
OK change of tempo - watching a history of woodstock - what a phenomena - and who kicked started the show???
well of course Richie Havens and IMO one of the saddest songs we may all have song in our lives and it goes to the core:
Lyrics
I get too low with no reason
You say its the moon or maybe the season
But somethingâs not the same
And I wonât let my mind believe
Baby, somethingâs wrong
Or the feelings gone
I canât make it anymore
I canât make it anymore
Lately I donât feel much like talking
Instead of going home I just go out walking
And thinking too much and not longing for your touch
Baby somethings changed
I donât feel the same
I canât make it anymore
I canât make it anymore
Donât know the reason why
But I just canât lie
When I feel this way
There are things that I must say
Canât make it anymore
I canât make it anymore
I canât make it anymore
I canât make it anymore
Oh, anymore
Where did we go wrong?
Where do I belong?
Can we find out when
It all began?
Why Iâm leaving you
Why our love ainât true
I canât make it anymore
I canât make it anymore
No, no no no
No no, no no, no
© Richie Havens - Woodstock man!
iTâS VERY CLEVER, but I think you are overestimating the weather bods.
Abigale translates more into A bi Gale. Nah, thatâs got nothing to do with the weather. Unless of course sheâs under it.
I used to have a galefriend once.