Brilliiaaaant observations
Jem at his questioning best.
A great string of one-liners chums, much appreciated
I wish I had even half of your energy Ms Pie
Well,MR Pie wishes she’d ease up,RJ.
The wail heard from Pie Towers last night was 'What,AGAIN?
This’s the third time this year & we’re not halfway through March,yet"!
[he was,of course,referring to beating the house rugs. What did you think he meant?]
Good Morning Possums.
I think you all need another story today.
I will be back to post one.
“I know who I WAS when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then”
― Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass
I often feel that way, is it inspiration or simple condemnation?
Some days I feel I can do no right, that life is a battle, with no end in sight.
On other days the world is shining, no cause for me to start my whining.
Is it shadows blinding my sight? Or is it the unknown, that causes my fright?
Either way, there is no escape, unless I had an invisible cape.
Now there is a thought that eases my thought.
Shame there isn’t a place, they can be are bought.
One thing that really gets my goat is cannon balls exploding. After all they are only chunks of iron but when they fall among men on horseback they explode.
Too true Ben, I would imagine when a canon ball hit the ground there would be more of a big ‘Thud’, because there’s nothing to explode is there.:shock:
I only found out some years back that in the earlier films battle scenes and westerns featuring lots of horses they used trip wires to make the horses fall, this caused many painful injuries to the unfortunate animals until it was finally stopped.
Also in westerns, when the wagons formed a circle and the Indian braves were riding around the circle, many of the Indians would dramatically fall off their horses even before the Cowboys shots were fired, very enthusiastic braves they had in Hollywood back then. Still it was all magic to us kids. ;-)
Excellent mood capturing poem there Sweetie, take a bow dear lady.
I had the below post written a few months ago, the time of the equine flu. Sometimes things that are in the news remind me of something that happened to me years ago,
I jot it down then it gets lost in the files, but now and then I’d be looking for something else and then it would pop up and stare me in the face.
Horse racing being in the news a while back reminded me of something that happened to me years ago. First I had a dream.
In the dream I was a young man and I was being chased by a big fat overfed man on a horse, I was in a panic and then I spotted a building with the front door wide open I dashed in. I feverishly tried to get the door closed but it wouldn’t budge, the man dismounted and followed me in, I was up against the wall in a small room, naked and completely defenceless, the man approached me with an evil sneer on his face as he started to unbutton his jodhpurs…then, through the mercy of God I woke up, I was in a sweat.
The wife beside me in the bed woke up too and asked me what was the matter, I told her my dream exactly as I dreamt it. “What does that dream mean to you my dear woman?” She turned over to go back asleep and muttered “Don’t do any horses tomorrow Jem, it means your going to be screwed by an unscrupulous bookie”
Strange things dreams. The wife was half asleep when she said that to me but she was right.
A few days later I was in town having a pint with an old workmate, hadn’t seen him in years, racing was on the TV and my friend asked me to go in 20 quid with him on a horse he had a tip for. I don’t normally put more the a fiver on any horse, even that is stretching it for me, but hail fella well met and not wanting to appear a skinflint in his eyes I said “Only 20 quid?, no bother” He wrote out the bet and went into the bookies next door, an old place run by an independent bookmaker.
Anyway the horse won a 4/1 and we were delighted, 100 quid back for each of us including our stake money. I said I’d go and collect seeing he put it on, then he stood up and began to search for the ticket, he turned out all his pockets but still no luck, he retraced his footsteps back to the bookies searching the footpath but it was nowhere to be seen, vanished.
He went over to the bookie counter and told the grumpy looking old git behind it that he had lost his winning ticket and could he write the bet out again to verify his handwriting (the usual procedure in such cases). The man pointed to a sign on the wall that said “Your ticket is your receipt, keep it safe, no receipt, no claim” He was perfectly within his rights by the way, same as if you lost a lottery ticket.
And that was the dream out as they say, we was well and truly screwed. I must add that with the big name bookies there is never a problem paying out in similar cases.
I often wonder did my ‘friend’ really lose the ticket in the first place and went back to the bookies a few days later with the ticket and came out 200 quid the richer, bookie dockets used to be good for three months, alas that’s something I will never know. -true tale.
Is it good, to look back in anger.
Loved your post Jem.
I will think on that for tomorrow.
Lovely that we kept Ben.
Sorry I missed you Spitty.
Good Night Possums. X
Oh, I say very quiet on Scribbles.
I better think of something quick…
Ok, there are many songs about places, we listen to them, and don’t really take a lot of notice until you actually come across a place in one of those songs.
The Monkees - Last Train To Clarksville
I have been there, it looked pretty run down to me, but so many years later.
So many songs about New York too, most especially if they name the Avenues, although I never saw any whores on seventh avenue, part of the lyrics from Simon and Garfunkel’s The Boxer.
Then there was Graceland by Paul Simon, yes I have been there too.
New Orleans, yep many songs about there also, a place I loved.
How about any of you? Do the songs make you think when you visit the places.?
I would like to adopt this as the New Zealand anthem and ditch that boring thing about God defending NZ, which he doesn’t anyway
Good choice.
I can’t get the video to post???
Did you see the video Sweetie? or just can’t repost?
The video works ok for me … 
Yes I have watched it.
Fantastic.
I tried to post the video.
It doesn’t work, no problems, we have the link.
The School Bus
Our first home in New Zealand was in Brown’s Bay , north of Auckland and about a half hour bus trip to Takapuna where I went to my first school. The school bus picked us up every morning at about quarter past eight and we were packed in like sardines for the trip to Takapuna Grammar school. As a recent arrival to New Zealand, I still had some kind of ‘Pommy’ accent and I found that although most of the kids were friendly, one or two used to poke fun at me. This was usually in good fun and no malice was intended but on one occasion a fifth former , so about two years older than me, started to pull my hair. After a bit of ignore it started to hurt and I reached over my head with both hands and clamped onto his wrist. Without any plan, I stood up and turned around to face my attacker. This, of course, caused his arm to rotate and he let out a cry of pain and burst into tears, much to the enjoyment of his classmates who all laughed at him in his pain and clapped me on the back like the winner of a contest. It was all, of course, not planned but by chance I had dislocated his elbow, as we found out later. There were no repercussions although he had to go to hospital to get fixed. It was put down to an accident in the crowded back of the bus and no blame was attached. Which, in a way, was true as I had no plan of attack just hurting hair.
Love the story Ciderz.
I think I may have a bit of a posh accent, or so I am told. I know lots of Cockney from my Dad, but it doesn’t quite sound right with my accent.
I hate bullies too, I got a bit of that at school, however I am such a joker it soon stopped.
At the school I mentioned there, they had a very good anti-bullying system. Apart from prefects, they involved top sporting pupils like First XV Rugby, First XI Cricket and athletics sports to police (if that’s the right word) the school during break periods. No violence was involved but such pupils carried ‘karisma’ or what we would call ‘mana’ and would almost always stop bullying. I was a fast bowler in the First XI and champion shot putter and they listened to me when I told the bully off.