tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52058474268302221592024-03-08T12:25:52.960-08:00Barbara's musingsBarbarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08384012695549443392noreply@blogger.comBlogger17125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205847426830222159.post-22352822174901954312012-02-15T14:42:00.000-08:002012-02-15T15:06:04.024-08:00Music is my first loveI've loved all sorts of music since.....well, for a very long time. My dad bought me a reel to reel tape recorder when I was a teenager (That was considered 'state of the art technology in those days!) and I spent hours recording music off Radio Caroline. Oooops, is that illegal? Well I doubt if I'll get arrested now although, knowing my luck............<br />
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It drives me mad nowadays how music has to fit into a box. When I was young there was a mixture of music genres in the charts and I think it's from there that I get my wide appreciation of different styles.<br />
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I know nothing about creating music - I wish I did, it must be so satisfying to produce a wonderful piece of music however, we can't be good at everything can we!<br />
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When people ask me what sort of music I like I reply 'Good music' I'm not being facetious when I say that. I really mean it. Of course everyone has their own definition of good music but why does it have to fit in with what's popular?<br />
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One day you'll find me listening to Mozart, another The Scorpions. Depends on my mood. In my (humble) opinion Jackson Browne is a far better song writer than Bob Dylan. As opposed to songs, he writes stories to music. If you listen to the words of his songs they are very moving. It's impossible to pick a favourite song but I thought this week I would like to share some songs that mean a lot to me.<br />
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I often wonder what the world would be like without music.I feel that the man in my previous blog has much to answer for when it comes to modern songs and I feel sorry for today's kids growing up with bland, mass produced songs - or am I just getting old?<br />
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Watching the news tonight about under nourished children in Afghanistan made me think of this song:<br />
<a class="twitter-timeline-link" data-display-url="youtu.be/ze3ziOoEUNA" data-expanded-url="http://youtu.be/ze3ziOoEUNA" href="http://t.co/SyzLfqkj" rel="nofollow" target="_blank" title="http://youtu.be/ze3ziOoEUNA">http://youtu.be/ze3ziOoEUNA</a><br />
This song never fails to bring tears to my eyes, the raw, painful emotion. I've read John Lennon's biography from six different perspectives, what a sad story:<br />
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<a class="twitter-timeline-link" data-display-url="youtu.be/NkOoZDK7Rz8" data-expanded-url="http://youtu.be/NkOoZDK7Rz8" href="http://t.co/U4NvAuvS" rel="nofollow" target="_blank" title="http://youtu.be/NkOoZDK7Rz8">http://youtu.be/NkOoZDK7Rz8</a><br />
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I often think they should make a film about Lindsay Buckingham and Stevie Nicks. What a love story that would be. I keep willing them to get back together!<br />
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<a class="twitter-timeline-link" data-display-url="dai.ly/cVGBnd" data-expanded-url="http://dai.ly/cVGBnd" data-ultimate-url="http://www.dailymotion.com/video/xvwi2_fleetwood-mac-silver-springs_music" href="http://t.co/WoojTtar" rel="nofollow" target="_blank" title="http://dai.ly/cVGBnd">http://dai.ly/cVGBnd</a>Barbarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08384012695549443392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205847426830222159.post-35037911658315137922012-01-29T13:09:00.000-08:002012-01-29T14:53:55.329-08:00The day I Accosted Simon CowellThis week's events brought it all back! I went with a friend on Tuesday to the Opera House in Blackpool to watch a live recording of Britain's Got Talent. We spent tha majority of the day squashed up and penned in amongst thousands of people getting drenched by the incessant rain. If you want to read about the experience there is an article appearing in the February edition of Gridlock Magazine - www.gridlockmagazine.com.<br />
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The last time the show came to Blackpool was in 2008. My granddaughter who was eight at the time was very excited about the possibility of meeting Simon Cowell and co. Her parents - who are song writers - were away working so we planned our day with precision to optimise our chances!<br />
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We hardly slept the night before because we were buzzing with excitement - yes I am quite capable of being an eight-year-old or any other age that takes my fancy. I'm not known for acting my age!<br />
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We jumped out of bed as soon as the alarm went and got ready for our 'adventure'.and arrived at the Winter Gardens at 6.30 am. Well? the early bird and all that..............<br />
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It was cold, miserable and damp due to the continual fine rain, the sort that wets you through, as Peter Kay observes. Exactly the same weather as we had on Tuesday this week.<br />
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I mentioned earlier that my daughter and son-in-law are song writers, they earn their living 'gigging' up and down the country but their dream is to be professional song writers. Not one to miss an opportunity I was armed with three CD's of their songs. The judges that year were Simon Cowell, Piers Morgan and Amanda Holden, hence three CD's.<br />
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Strangely there were no barriers up that time and - as far as I can remember, no crowds outside. In fact when Simon Cowell eventually arrived I think there were about twenty people there - although the numbers quickly swelled as word got around.<br />
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We waited for hours, not venturing far from the front doors of of the Winter Gardens in case we lost our vantage point! I think it was around eleven o'clock when Piers Morgan arrived - I walked straight up to him, shoved a CD in his pocket (They all had my daughter's contact details on in case I didn't have time to explain) and said 'There's a present for you' He looked a bit surprised and said 'Oh Thank you'. My next target was Amanda Holden who arrived about thirty minutes later. She smiled and looked genuinely delighted when I gave her the CD but again, didn't have time to explain as TV camera's were honing in on the celebrities as they arrived.<br />
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We then waited with Tony Adkins, Simon Cowell's then body gaurd. He was a very pleasant man and made my granddaughter's day regaling her with stories about how he felt sorry for the contestants - especially the children - who had their dreams dashed. He said he didn't think it was fair to put children through that level of rejection at such a tender age. He would break off to talk into his walkie talkie every so often trying to establish when his boss was going to arrive as he was already about an hour and a half late. Tony assured us that he would get Mr Cowell to stop and pose for a photograph with my granddaughter when he arrived. She was unbelievably excited! Mr Adkins made the wait worthwhile, it's not every day you get an introduction to Simon Cowell.<br />
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Simon Cowell's limo eventually drew up at around 2.30. Tony Adkins stuck his head in and had a conversation then Simon emerged shaking his head at his body guard and marched past the small crowd that had gathered ignoring calls from the crowd - including mine and headed straight for the door where a TV camera was waiting.<br />
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Well, you know those moments in your life when you see red? I had one of those! Could you blame me after standing in the cold and rain for seven hours with a small, excited child? I walked straight over to Mr Cowell who, I think, was being interviewed on camera, tapped him on the shoulder and stuck a CD in his pocket. 'There's a present for you' I announced as he turned round looking a little surprised.<br />
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'Oh thank you very much' he oozed, now the camera was on him! One of the security staff called my disappointed granddaughter over and told her to go down and see him at the tower the following week and he would get Simon Cowell's autograph for her. I took her down and he had kept his promise. She was delighted.<br />
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My daughter never heard from any of the judges about the songs but.....it was worth a try!<br />
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Here are links to a few of the songs on the CD. Have a listen and see what you think. <br />
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Jenny Cox - Would you run <a class="twitter-timeline-link" data-expanded-url="http://www.broadjam.com/artists/songs.php?artistID=33439&mediaID=447762" data-ultimate-url="http://www.broadjam.com/artists/songs.php?artistID=33439&mediaID=447762" href="http://t.co/leKGCBDs" rel="nofollow" target="_blank" title="http://www.broadjam.com/artists/songs.php?artistID=33439&mediaID=447762">broadjam.com/artists/songs.</a><br />
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When She Cries <a class="twitter-timeline-link" data-display-url="broadjam.com/artists/songs.…" data-expanded-url="http://www.broadjam.com/artists/songs.php?artistID=33439&mediaID=447766" data-ultimate-url="http://www.broadjam.com/artists/songs.php?artistID=33439&mediaID=447766" href="http://t.co/Qo6aaRd8" rel="nofollow" target="_blank" title="http://www.broadjam.com/artists/songs.php?artistID=33439&mediaID=447766">http://www.broadjam.com/artists/songs.php?artistID=33439&mediaID=447766</a>
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<br />Barbarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08384012695549443392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205847426830222159.post-32400640400661370962012-01-15T16:41:00.000-08:002012-01-15T16:41:27.125-08:00FIRST WIN OF 2012You probably know this by now but in case you don't - I like entering competitions. I enter quite a lot which is presumably why I've started winning a few. I opened my emails on 12th January to find an email beginning with the word Congratulations. I like emails that start with that word. Anyway, it turns out I've won a spa break for a family of four - or four adults - at Alton Towers including overnight stay, bed, breakfast and Evening meal. It's a first prize and my second spa break prize! The only trouble is it has to be taken by March so I don't think I'll be able to go.<br />
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I sold the last spa break I won so when it arrives I'm hoping to do the same (depending on the terms and conditions) The point is I'm still winning so it looks like the wins I had last year weren't a 'fluke' as I thought.<br />
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Now, I've seen a competition that ends in three days and the prize is a brand new fitted kitchen worth £20,000 including planning, fitting and top of the range appliances. I AM going to win this prize - watch this space. It involves writing a hundred and fifty words about your dream kitchen. Sounds easy enough doesn't it? Trouble is I've been thinking about it for three days now and haven't come up with fifteen words, never mind a hundred and fifty. I love competitions that involve writing and I've put in some pretty fantastic entries - at least I thought they were fantastic - sadly the judges didn't agree.<br />
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I was certain I was going to win that BMW in December. You should have seen what I wrote, it was genious.....mmmm I wonder who's driving round in that car! Maybe I should change tactics and write an X Factor type sob story......<br />
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I always get excited when competitions involve writing something because it isn't down to luck. Maybe I'm fooling myself because I've only won the ones involving luck so far. I did once win a National Writing competition, yes, I won the Gold Award. I was mighty impressed with myself until the prize arrived. Call me ungrateful - go on, I can't hear you - they sent me a certificate stating I was a Gold Award winner and a pen set containing a smart looking pen that didn't work. You wonder why I'm bitter and twisted!<br />
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<br />When I win a major prize you'll be the first to hear about it unless it's majorly major in which case I may be too busy laying on a sunny beach somewhere to be bothered writing my blog.<br />
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Now, I really must go and write about my dream kitchen. All that stands between me and that kitchen is a few inspired sentences.............<br />
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<br />Barbarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08384012695549443392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205847426830222159.post-61577789732987798002011-12-18T10:22:00.000-08:002011-12-18T10:26:53.885-08:00MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A GRIMNEY NEW YEAR<br />
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I thought I would just take this opportunity to wish my readers a Very Merry Christmas. It's a busy time of year and not much time for writing - unless you're ultra disciplined (which I'm not!) I think this will probably be my last post for 2011 as I'm sure you'll all have better things to do over the coming weeks than to read my blog!<br />
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If something particularly exciting pops into my head in the meantime I'll put a link on Twitter.<br />
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My regular readers - all three of you - will know by now that I have slipped into a fantasy world during the past few months. Now, there are some who know me that would say I've always lived in a fantasy world, but never mind about that.......<br />
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Of course, I am referring to The Land of Grimney. I do spend a lot of my spare time there these days and I love it! I have three characters in this strange land now and they seem to be taking on lives of their own which is fascinating to me, not being a fiction-type person. I suppose as much as anything it's the challenge I'm enjoying. I haven't played with imaginary people since I was about eight years old, I'd forgotten how much fun it could be.<br />
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I have also been promoted to 'site administrator' this week which I'm buzzing about even though I don't quite know what it means! It's a lovely feeling to be valued and given a promotion - even though it is in a fantasy land. Well let's face it it's the only place where I'm likely to be given a promotion! So I thought I'd just like to take the opportunity to let you know that I am important now. I promise I won't let the power go to my head though so don't worry all you peasants. Grimney are also running a Christmas poetry competition but if you want to enter, you'd better get your ice skates on because the closing date is the 25th December.<br />
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If you still haven't visited Grimney I suggest you give it a try if only to read some of the amazing poems and stories that members have posted in there. The address is: www.thelandofgrimney.co.uk<br />
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I thought I'd leave you with a couple of festive poems. The first is one of the entries I put into the Grimney poetry contest followed by one my twelve-year-old granddaughter wrote this afternoon. I'm so pleased that she likes poetry at such a tender age.<br />
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Have a lovely holiday and I'll see you in 2012 x<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b style="color: red;">Present by Barbara Thomas</b></span></div>
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The present looked exciting </div>
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Yes ever so inviting</div>
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It sat beneath the tree</div>
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With love it said, to me!</div>
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Wrapped in crinkly bows</div>
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And Santas in the snow</div>
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I picked it up, I pressed and squeezed</div>
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Then back it went beneath the tree</div>
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For weeks and weeks I tried to guess</div>
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The contents of that treasure chest</div>
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I willed my dog to make a tare</div>
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So I could take a peep in there</div>
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But she just sighed and licked her feet</div>
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‘Cos it didn’t smell of bones or treats</div>
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So finally surrender came</div>
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I had to play the waiting game</div>
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On Christmas day the gift was placed </div>
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Into my lap, did my heart race!</div>
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I pulled the bows and sellotape</div>
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And tore the Santas out of shape</div>
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When I finally got to see</div>
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What had plagued my curiosity</div>
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I forced a smile and tried to hide</div>
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The disappointment felt inside</div>
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The hints I dropped were very clear</div>
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But must have fallen on deaf ears</div>
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No Kindle did I find in there</div>
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Instead a dryer for my hair</div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><u><span style="color: green; font-size: 22pt;">A poem of Christmas by Tyrion Cox</span></u></i></b></div>
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Putting up the decorations, </div>
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The sound of cheer and celebrations,</div>
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Outside the snow twinkles and glistens,</div>
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The choir sing, and everyone listens.</div>
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Chestnuts roast on a flaming fire,</div>
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The Christmas spirit is lifted higher.</div>
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The star upon the festive tree,</div>
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Sways, and shimmers gracefully.</div>
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Presents look so beckoning.</div>
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We sit and wait its so exciting…</div>
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Then it comes, the magnificent day!</div>
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Both children and adults all shout ‘hooray!</div>
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The presents are opened,</div>
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Faces are brightened.</div>
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Everyone’s happy, cheerful, and glad,</div>
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Christmas time, here at last!</div>
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<br />Barbarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08384012695549443392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205847426830222159.post-4347375884363362072011-12-10T15:01:00.001-08:002011-12-10T15:03:02.292-08:00<!--[if !mso]>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">This week's blog is another true story from my childhood - followed by a poem based on the story. - Enjoy! </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span>
</span>SNOW JOKE</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">I was born in
Burnley, Lancashire and lived in a big, old terraced
house with a backyard, the gate of which, led out to a large cobbled area which
was our play ground.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Most of the
houses in the area looked the same, row after row of big, grey terraced houses
with chimneys that oozed out clouds of black smoke. This was the age before smoke
free zones and being an industrial town with factories and cotton mills, it
wasn’t just the smoke from residential chimneys spewing out smoke but also the
tall industrial chimneys which dominated the landscape.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Looking back,
the setting was quite gloomy and depressing but that’s not how I remember it,
with lots of extended family living close by - my grandparents lived next door
but one. There were always lots of family members popping in and out, lots of
laughter and quite regular family get - togethers mainly in my Grandma’s house
where there would be around thirty people crammed in, chattering or singing and
dancing to the strains of Grandad’s accordion playing.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Beyond the
green, latched gate next to ours, lived the original grumpy old man who was
known – for some inexplicable reason – as ‘Pop’</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Pop constantly
aggravated my Mum with his moaning and grumbling about ‘them kids’ which
referred to me and my two elder brothers, Tommy and David. David was the eldest
and therefore should have known better but he was a proper lad and led Tommy
and me into all sorts of scrapes and misdemeanors, the likes of which would
never have entered our innocent heads had it not been for our rebellious
leader. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">These misdemeanors
involved such pastimes as knock and run, and shouting “Baldie” out of the
window at folically challenged passers-by before swiftly ducking behind the opened
sash windows and peeping over the sill to catch the bemused reaction.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">I particularly
enjoyed playing knock and run. I didn’t really understand the purpose of the
game I just remember it was a source of great excitement, one minute we’d be
standing in front of someone’s door whilst whoever’s turn it was knocked
loudly. The next we’d be running like the clappers in a desperate bid to get
out of sight before the door was opened. Great fun!</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">I remember one
particular night when Tommy and David rushed into the house excitedly and
insisted I come out and play with them. I was delighted; I wasn’t usually in
such great demand. When we got outside they pointed to a gate.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">“See
that gate?” asked David “Go and rattle it <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">really</i></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-US">hard</span></i><span lang="EN-US">” he instructed “and
you’ll get some sweets.”</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">So off I went to
accomplish my mission. I grabbed the handle tightly and pushed and pulled with
all my strength. The gate rattled furiously but no sweets appeared. .I <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>threw a defeated look towards the two
expectant brothers lurking in the shadows.</span></div>
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<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US">“Nothing’s
happening.” I whispered.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">David emerged
temporarily from his hiding place to give further instructions.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US">“You’re
not shaking it hard enough.” he advised, “You need to shake it <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">really</i></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-US">really hard.”</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">I returned to
the task filled with a new determination after the pep talk. Grasping the
handle in two hands I proceeded to shake the gate until it was about to come
off its hinges. Then everything went black and my excitement turned to horror
as I felt myself shuddering from head to toe. I realised that I was freezing
cold and dripping wet. From within my miserable, wet darkness I could hear the
stifled sound of giggling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My vision
returned as one of the delightful brothers came to my aid and lifted the bucket
off my head. Then came my next set of instructions delivered in a somewhat
menacing tone:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US">“Right,
you better not tell mum what happened, tell</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US">her
you fell in a puddle.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I…. I fell in a puddle.” I wailed as my
mum wrapped a towel round me, but from the dark looks she threw at the two
‘innocent’ onlookers, she didn’t believe me.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">It wasn’t until
later it emerged that David and Tommy had been rattling the gate earlier and
had been warned by an exasperated Pop that if they did it again he was going to
place a bucket of water on top of the gate and they were in for a soaking. Ever
been had?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">In those days
winter really was winter with the obligatory four feet of snow. A path would
have to be cleared from the back kitchen door to the gate before even the
shortest of journeys could be considered. On one such day – the story goes –
Pop’s heart must have thawed a little, unlike the frozen snow and as a gesture
of goodwill, he had entered our back yard armed with a shovel and cleared a
path for us. To most people this would be a sign, an extending of an olive
branch, so to speak, but not to my Mum, withered by the constant barrage of
abuse<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>about her ‘little angels’ this was
an opportunity for……revenge!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">She donned her
wellies and crunched her way round to Pop’s door to confront the snow thief.
She ‘ram tammed’ on the door – as she put it – and a few moments later, Pop
opened it a little sheepishly, probably expecting to see a burly policeman
standing there judging by the violent hammering at his door.</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US">“Now
then” began my Mum, “Warrave you done wi’ our snow?”</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US">After
an incredulous pause and a sharp intake of breath Pop replied hesitantly:</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US">“I…
er ….. I’ve cleared a path for you.”</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US">“Well
you’d no right” continued my Mum, “That’s OUR snow, now</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US">gerrit
put back, the kids want to play in it!”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">That said, she
turned and crunched her way home victoriously, wearing a wicked grin.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">Pop, rather
grudgingly, trudged back and forth with spades full of snow until every last
flake had been replaced – so the story goes.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">Now, I can’t
validate this story, it is being passed down through the generations (Kunta
Kinte style) by my brother David. That said, David is the man who, during his
three ‘lost’ years when he disappeared with the hippies in a cloud of smoke,
was roadying for Pink Floyd,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the man who
now lives ‘just up the road’ from Chris Jagger (Mick’s brother) who he
regularly has ‘jams’ with and who, incidentally, once announced:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Oh she’s great this chick”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>just after the presenter on Top of The Pops
had introduced Alice Cooper. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">SNOW JOKE – a Lancashire
tale</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Bill the grumpy man next door<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Often
gave my mum what for</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Her little cherubs he complained</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Were running wild and unrestrained</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Chance came for sweet revenge one day</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">As she beckoned us to come and play</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">In snow that had fallen two feet deep</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">While we’d been drifting off to sleep</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">What possessed him we don’t know</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">But Bill had been and cleared our snow</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Perhaps the path was his device</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">To end the feud and break the ice</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">But mummy’s angels had been wronged</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">And for this moment she had longed</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">A chance to air her deep frustration</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Off she stormed for a confrontation</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Face to frosty face she came</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">With the perpetrator of her pain</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Hands on hips she pursed her lips</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Warrave yer done wi’ our snow? she quipped</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Bill was taken quite aback</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">By this incredulous attack</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I’ve cleared a path for you he mumbled</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-US">Put
that snow back</span></i><span lang="EN-US">, it’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">ours</i> she grumbled</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Bill’s jaw dropped in disbelief</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Lost for words that slippery thief</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The poor old wretch had met his match</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">When he ventured on to mummy’s patch</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">So off he trundled with his spade</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Quite disgruntled and dismayed</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">To re-instate our stolen snow</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Truth or fiction?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No - one knows</span></div>Barbarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08384012695549443392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205847426830222159.post-42122658321380247322011-12-03T02:34:00.001-08:002011-12-03T03:02:10.994-08:00<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">Here's a true story from my childhood days - followed by another true story written as a poem. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;"> WHITE
MARE ON ELM STREET</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">I swear my Dad invented Jim Royle’s
catchphrase “My Arse!” When I was</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">a child I thought the expression was part
of the English language </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">In fact if you know Jim from the Royle
family, you know my dad, he <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">was </i> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">Jim Royle, but with a work ethic.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">I don’t remember being bored when I was a
young girl, I always found </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">ways to amuse myself, usually out on the
cobbled back street either skipping</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">or throwing a ball against a high brick
wall and catching it. On one of these </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">occasions
my attention was diverted by a
strange sound. I must have been</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">around five years old and this is one of my
enduring childhood memories.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">Along the bottom of the cobbles ran Elm Street which
led on to Colne road,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">a busy main road. From the back street
could be heard the distant rumble</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">of traffic travelling along Colne road and occasionally
the rumble would </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">become a loud roar as a car turned left off
the main road into Elm Street.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">On this particular evening, a new sound
emerged amongst the distant rumble</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">of the traffic. At first it was barely audible
but as it approached it gradually </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">got louder and louder. I stood and watched,
curiously waiting to find out what </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">was making the noise. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">It started as a soft sort of clattering
noise like someone wearing big, heavy high heels. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">It got steadily louder until into my view
appeared a magnificent sight. I gazed in </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">wonder as a huge white horse with a rider sitting,
proudly aloft, passed by the end </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">of the cobbled street and the clattering
noise faded away again.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">I was totally fascinated and strangely
excited by the spectacle. Over the next few</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">days I noticed that the same thing happened
at around the same time every day </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">and I would find myself waiting with great
anticipation </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;"> After
about a week of this, I could stand the suspense no longer and a crazy plan</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">started to form in my little head.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">I waited and waited for the moment when I
could put my plan into action then</span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;"> the day arrived. I waited and waited then
eventually the soft clatter could be heard in</span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;"> the distance. Horse and rider came into view and I was
off!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;"> I
chased the horse along Elm Street On and on I ran, all my energy andconcentration </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">focused on the black outline
of the rider seated on that magnificent beast. Although I </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">continued to run at
full speed, the gap between me and the horse began to widen.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">I kept on running, I couldn’t let them get
away now I’d come this far. Idon’t know how </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">long I ran for but somehow
they got away, the silhouetteof horse and rider vanished over</span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;"> the brow
of a hill and the clatteringbecame softer and softer until I could hear
it no more.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">Not only had I lost sight of my horse and
my bold plan to ask if I could have a ride </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">but now I had a new and more immediate
problem. I was totally lost! Theunfamiliar</span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">landscape which just moments ago
had seemed so inviting, now looked frightening and </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">mysterious, green hedges
lined with trees, rapidly descending intohalf light as the sun faded.</span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;"> I spun around
on my heels and surveyed the strange and unfamiliar landscape I could feel </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">my
tiny heart pounding against my chest, partly from running, partly from fear and
partly</span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;"> from wondering what my mum and dad would say when they found out
where I’d been. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">Why had I chased that stupid horse up here?
I had to get home, but how? </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">With incredible clarity of mind I decided that
even though I hadn’t a cluewhere I was, if </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">I started running in the
opposite direction to the one thatbrought me here I would </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">eventually
recognise something familiar </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">The return journey was the complete
opposite to the exciting adventure which</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;"> had
brought me here, full of terror and uncertainty, all I wanted to do was get
back to
that </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">familiar cobbled Street. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">Oh! the feeling of relief when,
eventually I came upon a street that I recognisedbut the feeling</span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;"> was short-lived, soon to be
replaced with the fear of facing my mumand dad and trying to </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">explain where I’d
been. I was sure they’d be out franticallysearching for me by now, I must </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">have been
missing for hours. Finally I turned onto those WONDERFUL cobbles. No sign </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">of my
frantic mum and dad. With great trepidation Ilifted the latch on our green gate, walked </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">around the bend in the yard and opened the heavy, black kitchen door. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">As I entered the kitchen, I heard laughter
coming from the front room; I walked up the corridor </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">on trembling legs and into
the room where my mum and dad were sat by a roaring fire, </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">chattering happily.
My mum looked up as I entered;</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Oh hello” she said, casually, “I was just
coming</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;"> to
call you in, what’ve you been doing?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Oh….er….playing with me ball” I replied,
half truthfully.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">Relief swept over me, nobody knew about my
crime, and nobody ever did, until now that is. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">At some point I must have told my mum about
the recurring horse visionand I must have </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">given her the inclination
that I was excited about it because one afternoon she said </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">she had something
exciting to tell me.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">Apparently she’d been talking to Eileen from
the chippy on Elm Street
and it had transpired </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">during the conversation that Eileen
worked in riding stables on Manchester Road
and she’d</span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;"> told my mum that I could go with her one day and help her to ‘muck’
the stables out.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Would you like to go with her?” she asked.......
Would I!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">Well! For the next couple of weeks I ate,
slept and dreamt those stables. Finally the great </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">day arrived. Clad in my new stretchy
slacks and shiny wellies, I clung tightly to the carrier </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">bag containing my
picnic and waited anxiously for the door bell to ring.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">I boarded the bus with Eileen and she
chatted away happily about what she did at the</span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;"> stables. I don’t think I said a
lot, I was very shy but it was worth going through the pain of </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">being with this
virtual stranger to get to see a horse up close.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">I’ll never forget, the wonderful smell of horse
manure as we trudged along the muddy, winding </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">path leading to the stables.
Eileen opened a big gate and I followed her in to a massive yard, </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">the stones
crunched under our feet as we made our way in to that magical place. I looked
up in</span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;"> awe at a massive head peering out over a gate. The jaws went from side to
side as it munched on a clump of hay. It stopped chewing momentarily and gazed curiously at me, I stared into the huge</span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;"> shiny
eyes and felt I would burst with happiness. My love of horses had begun.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">After a long day filled with new
sensations, including back – breaking work, every minute of which, </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">I adored,
Eileen stunned me with the biggest surprise of all;</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Would you like to ride on one?” she asked.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">How much excitement can one child take in a
day?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">Sat on that horse with the leather saddle
creaking and the jangling bit on the bridle, soft leather </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">reins clutched in my
tiny fingers and the warm, horsy smell in my nostrils, the clattering sound </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">came from beneath me now not from a distance, I felt like a princess! Life
doesn’t get much </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">better than this.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">When I arrived home my mum and dad wanted
to know all about my day and I had so much </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">to tell them that my words were
falling over each other, they laughed, I think they could tell I’d </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">had a good
day.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">When all the excitement died down, I
remembered something important that I needed to ask my dad.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Can I go for horse riding lessons? Eileen
said she’d take me.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“And how much is that going to cost?” asked
my dad.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;">“Seven and six” I replied </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=5205847426830222159#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12pt;">[1]</span></span></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;"> “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Seven
and six? Seven and bloody six?”</i> he repeated,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 12pt;"> “Horse riding my arse!”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="mso-element: footnote-list;">
<br />
<hr align="left" size="1" width="33%" />
<div id="ftn1" style="mso-element: footnote;">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=5205847426830222159#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 10pt;">[1]</span></span></span></span></a><span lang="EN-US"> </span>seven and six:
equivalent of 37 pence</div>
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">
UNBRIDLED JOY </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I’ve
never seen a horse so black</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Overwhelmed, must sit on her back</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">And ride around that field so free</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">No saddle no bridle, just Diana and me</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Alongside the fence she stands</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Over I climb and with both hands</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Grab her mane and with all my might</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Pull myself over and hold on tight</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">There I sit excited and dazed</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">She lowers her head and continues to graze</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Come on Diana I urge her on</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">She doesn’t take a step, not one.</span></div>
<div style="border-bottom: solid windowtext 1.0pt; border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0cm 0cm 31.0pt 0cm;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 31.0pt 0cm; padding: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US">I dig my heels
into her sides</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 31.0pt 0cm; padding: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US">Hoping to go
for a gentle ride</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 31.0pt 0cm; padding: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US">She pauses and
lifts her head, at last!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 31.0pt 0cm; padding: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US">Then
snorts…and continues to nibble the grass.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 31.0pt 0cm; padding: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US">You’re lovely,
I coax, gently patting her neck</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 31.0pt 0cm; padding: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US">But Diana’s
just not in the mood for a trek</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 31.0pt 0cm; padding: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US">I get the
message and slide to the ground</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 31.0pt 0cm; padding: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US">Diana
continues her munching sound</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 31.0pt 0cm; padding: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US">I clamber the
fence but I’m still feeling fine</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 31.0pt 0cm; padding: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US">For a whole
ten minutes that horse was MINE</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 31.0pt 0cm; padding: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 31.0pt 0cm; padding: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US">On my way to
school the following day</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 31.0pt 0cm; padding: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US">The farmer’s
daughter was coming my way</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 31.0pt 0cm; padding: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US">I want a word
with you she screamed</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 31.0pt 0cm; padding: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US">My heart stopped
dead or so it seemed</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 31.0pt 0cm; padding: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US">My dad saw you
yesterday, she said</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 31.0pt 0cm; padding: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US">I looked at
her blankly and scratched my head</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 31.0pt 0cm; padding: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US">Sitting on
Diana’s back</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 31.0pt 0cm; padding: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US">She spoke of
my non-existent hack</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 31.0pt 0cm; padding: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US">Oh yeah well,
I meekly replied</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 31.0pt 0cm; padding: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US">She was by the
fence and I fancied a ride</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 31.0pt 0cm; padding: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US">Well it was a
stupid thing to do</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 31.0pt 0cm; padding: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US">I didn’t reply
I suppose it was true</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 31.0pt 0cm; padding: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US">What did you
think you were playing at?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 31.0pt 0cm; padding: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US">Climbing onto
a horse like that?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 31.0pt 0cm; padding: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US">I just wanted
a ride I repeated</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 31.0pt 0cm; padding: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US">She shook her
head and looked defeated</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 31.0pt 0cm; padding: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US">Then suddenly
I was rudely awoken</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 31.0pt 0cm; padding: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US">She exclaimed,
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">That horse</i> has never been broken</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 31.0pt 0cm; padding: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US">Oh I gasped,
well I didn’t know</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 31.0pt 0cm; padding: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US">I felt myself
shaking from head to toe</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 31.0pt 0cm; padding: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US">Now the sight
of a horse never fails to remind</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="border: none; mso-border-bottom-alt: solid windowtext .75pt; mso-padding-alt: 0cm 0cm 31.0pt 0cm; padding: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-US">Me of Diana,
so gentle and kind</span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>Barbarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08384012695549443392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205847426830222159.post-47776451211200100762011-11-29T03:07:00.001-08:002011-11-29T05:22:46.205-08:00<b>Who wants to live in the real world anyway!</b><br />
<br />
I know I'm not the first and I'm sure I won't be the last but...I realised a few days ago that I spend more time in the Cyber world than I do in the real one. I'm either writing my blog, entering competitions online talking on Twitter or Facebook or getting lost in Grimney!<br />
<br />
I find myself rushing to do things that need to be done on planet reality so that I can get back into my cyber world. My dog doesn't like it, she sits staring at me quite often as if willing me to 'come away from that box'.<br />
She's happy enough today though because we've been playing in the park for two hours so she's tired enough not to notice that I'm on the box in the corner again! <br />
<br />
My husband doesn't mind too much, he's in his own little cyber world much of the time! We do meet up in the real world for a coffee occasionally though......<br />
<br />
The most surprising aspect of this is my growing addiction to Grimney. I - or at least my character - has been having lots of adventures there recently. The difference between Grimney and planet earth is that you can control what happens to your life!<br />
<br />
I used to spend quite a lot of time uploading articles and poetry to various publications in the hope that they would not only publish my scribblings but pay me as well. I don't do that so much nowadays though because I find that simply writing for the pleasure of it is far more enjoyable. My words may not be the most profound that you've ever read but they are MY words and I don't have to have anyone's permission to get them published.<br />
<br />
During that particular period when I was desperate to be a published writer, I wrote a poem called 'Cyberspace Race' My daughter then turned it into a song for me which gave me a huge thrill! I can now add the rather impressive title of 'songwriter' to my growing list of credentials.<br />
<br />
What?<br />
<br />
Well, other people blag their way through life so why shouldn't I?<br />
<br />
So until next time I leave you with my poem and my song!!<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">
CYBERSPACE RACE</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">My words of wisdom keep disappearing</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Into cyberspace</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I don’t want to grumble </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">But I’m sort of losing face</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">All my words are disappearing</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">To a black hole sort of place</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">You see</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I’ve joined the cyberspace race</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The cyberspace race</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The cyberspace race</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">My words are disappearing</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Into cyberspace</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Now that I’ve joined</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The cyberspace race</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">One day I’m going to get a call</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">From an alien in another world</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">He’ll say Your words are clever</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">And I wondered if you’d ever</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Had them published</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">No not yet</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I just upload them on the net</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">But I’ve never heard a word, not yet</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">You see:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The cyberspace race</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The cyberspace race</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">My words are disappearing</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Into cyberspace</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Since I joined the cyberspace race</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Log in, Log out</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Log in, Log out</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">All this white space</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">What is it all about?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The cyberspace race</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The cyberspace race</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Think I’ll cancel my subscription </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">To the cyberspace race</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">All my creative juice </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Is floating round in cyberspace.</span><br />
<br />
<span lang="EN-US"> http://soundcloud.com/barbarathomas#play (Copy and paste this link to bring up player)</span></div>
<br />Barbarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08384012695549443392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205847426830222159.post-64618647400326235332011-11-21T06:15:00.001-08:002011-11-21T07:03:03.505-08:00 <b> The Hex Factor </b><br />
<br />
Every year I say the same thing ' I'm not going to watch it this year' and then......before I know it I'm halfway through the series. What am I talking about? You've probably guessed already, Reality TV - which, I might add, doesn't appear to have much reality in it at all.<br />
<br />
X Factor and I'm a Celebrity get me out of here (or should that be; I want to be a celebrity get me in there!) are the current shows I love to hate. Simon Cowell has a lot to answer for! I have done a creative writing course - ok so you might not guess it from reading my blog - but one thing that stands out in my mind from that course is that you should avoid cliches like the plague (sorry!). I was also told that I use too many exclamation marks!!! I personally like exclamation marks but I can see the reasoning behind the cliche thingy.<br />
<br />
Do the same rules not apply to telly programmes? I'm referring particularly to cliches now. If I hear one more cliche during X Factor I swear........I won't watch it next year..........<br />
Here are just five that drive me mad:<br />
<br />
It's a life changing opportunity.<br />
This week you've got to up your game<br />
You're the one to beat<br />
You nailed it<br />
It's becoming predictable (huh, says you!)<br />
<br />
Also <i>really, really</i> annoying are the obviously staged rows between the judges - designed to keep 'the public' interested.<br />
<br />
I may be becoming cynical in my old age but I don't even believe the contestants are real! My theory is that the majority of the finalists are already signed by record companies and the programme is a cheap way to gain publicity for them. It's just my opinion and I'm not <i>always</i> right.<br />
<br />
Another thing that annoys me is when 'the judges' tell amazing vocalists that they have '<i>potential' </i>In other words those expert judges will teach the youngsters how to become great singers, all credit to the judges then! I wonder if there is anybody in the country who doesn't see right through it? Yes, probably the ones who have actually stopped watching! The rest of us just keep watching so that we can have a good grumble!<br />
<br />
No poem this week. Instead I have a special treat. Below is a singer who has been treading the boards since the age of thirteen and has genuinely served her apprenticeship.She is my daughter and in this video she is performing one of the many songs she has written. I hope you enjoy it but not to worry if you don't, we don't all like the same things!<br />
<br />
Until next week:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/Jenny67167?blend=1&ob=5">http://www.youtube.com/user/Jenny67167?blend=1&ob=5</a><br />
<br />
<br />Barbarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08384012695549443392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205847426830222159.post-10770184153524673882011-11-14T08:10:00.001-08:002011-11-14T08:32:49.239-08:00Ringo Ruined my Party!<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Well, it's been a great weekend for Beatles fans with all the documentaries commemorating fifty years since the group arrived on the scene. Did I say FIFTY YEARS? Seems like yesterday to me. Anyway, watching the programmes and hearing the songs made me feel all nostalgic.I don't know about anybody else but I can't think of one song by the Beatles that I don't like. There's not many artists you can say that about today - I must be getting old or something! It also brought back memories of a very sad day in my life.....</div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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I can still remember my eighth birthday party like it was
yesterday The Beatles had just been unleashed on the
world and I had fallen head over heels in love with Ringo Starr. </div>
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Plans were well underway for my eighth birthday party when I
had a brainwave. I would send an invitation to Ringo, he’d be delighted to receive it
and would surely come. I quickly wrote the letter… </div>
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<br /></div>
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Dear Ringo, it’s my birthday on December 28<sup>th</sup> and
I’m having a party. You can come if you like. Then as an afterthought I added,
Oh and you can bring the other Beatles as well if you want to. I didn’t want to
hurt their feelings by not inviting them but I wasn’t bothered as long as HE
turned up!</div>
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<br /></div>
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I asked my big brother if he knew the Beatles’ address – and
of course he did. Big brothers know everything don’t they? Soon the invitation
was on its way to 1A Liverpool
Road, Liverpool.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A few weeks later there was a lot of hustle and bustle in
the house as the preparations got under way for the big party. Cakes and jellies were being
prepared and the room decorated with balloons. Ringo was going to LOVE this.
Quite a lot of people had been invited but there was only one guest I was
waiting for. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Each time the doorbell
rang I chased my mum up the corridor. She’d barely got the door open as I squealed
“Is it Ringo?” “No, my mum replied, it’s…..” My heart sank. Still there was
plenty of time yet. I was absolutely certain he would come. The scene kept
repeating until finally, the doorbell stopped ringing.</div>
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<br /></div>
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There was lots of noise and excitement all around me,
looking back it must have been heartbreaking for my mum seeing my miserable
face amidst all the merrymaking but I just couldn’t understand why he hadn’t turned up, he never
even sent me a birthday card!</div>
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All I wanted to do was cry. I was glad when the charade
ended and everyone went home.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It took me a long time to come to terms with the
disappointment of that day but as I grew older I realised why Ringo hadn’t shown.
His address wasn’t 1A Liverpool road, what was
my brother thinking………..<br />
<br />
I've often wondered if that letter is on display somewhere in a Beatles museum..or if it actually got delivered to Ringo. </div>
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<br /></div>
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I know I have already shared this poem with you in an earlier blog but it seems appropriate to end with this one because of the 50th anniversary - and also because I particularly like it. (Am I allowed to say that about my own poem?) Yes, that's what I like about writing my own blog, I can do whatever I choose......</div>
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</div>
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See you next week x</div>
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<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">PIANO</span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">In a winter white room</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Stands a Grand piano</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Silent,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Untouched by human hands</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Un-played and silent</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Composed</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">That piano stands</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">In dark shadows of a jail cell</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Sits a man</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Silent</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Untouched by emotion</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Unloved and silent</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Decomposing</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Sits that man</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">In the winter white room</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">And the shadowy cell</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">A ghostly voice</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Is often heard</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Echoing through the walls</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=5205847426830222159#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">[1]</span></span></span></span></a><span style="font-family: Arial;"> ‘Nothing to kill or die for</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">And no religion too’</span></div>
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</div>
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<br /></div>Barbarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08384012695549443392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205847426830222159.post-27023873341374813832011-11-06T15:06:00.000-08:002011-11-06T15:07:00.415-08:00<b>Still waiting for the call from ITV </b><br />
<br />
Well, where did that week go? Another two hundred competitions entered - only to vanish into the ether, never to be heard of again! I don't know why I'm being so sceptical, I suppose it's because old habits die hard. I dread to think how many hours I've wasted over the last twelve months entering competitions.<br />
<br />
So why do I - and millions of others - do it? I can only speak for myself of course but being an optimist definitely helps. I've spent all my life (yes, all twenty one years) saying things like: 'I'm not lucky, I never win anything, I have to work for everything I get' and tutting at slogans like 'You've got to be in it to win it' and 'Winners never quit, Quitters never win.'<br />
<br />
I used to enter the odd competition here and there but never won anything, hence the above statements. It wasn't until I discovered the competition site 'Loquax' that I became a true 'comper'. Yes Loquax it's YOUR fault! Apart from lots of new competitions which are added daily, the site has forums bursting at the seams with enthusiastic winners shouting about their latest wins. They used to get on my nerves - until I joined them.....<br />
<br />
There are hints and tips about entering and winning competitions and the main concensus amongst seasoned professionals seems to be, the more you enter, the more likely you are to win. Even though I'm generally an optimistic sort of soul I've never expected to actually win a competition but I decided to test the theory.<br />
<br />
Many of the winners on Loquax admit to entering hundreds of competitions a week - which <i>sounds</i> a lot but in practice is easily achieved with the abundance of competition sites online that just require a few clicks of the mouse in order to get your 'name in the hat.'<br />
<br />
It's an interesting hobby with the added incentive of never knowing what tomorrow might bring.<br />
<br />
I spent at least an hour every day for the next six months entering competitions. My favourite type being tie breakers. As a writer I think I'm pretty darned good at tie breakers, unfortunately the competition judges don't appear to agree.....(sigh) <br />
<br />
My first win came just a week after I announced to my husband that I was going to 'give up wasting my time on these competitions' adding 'I'm not lucky, I never win anything.' A week later I opened my emails up to see one that started with the words: Congratulations you are a winner...... It was only a runner-up prize, a DVD, the first prize was a state of the art DVD recorder. I wasn't too disappointed though, it gave me a push to continue entering with renewed energy because it convinced me that 'Your name <i>can </i>come out'<br />
<br />
Little did I realise that this was the start of a winning roll.........<br />
<br />
Just two days after the initial winning email I received another one. This time it was a first prize - and there was only one first prize! A digital camera and photobox vouchers to the value of £100. Oooooh, the excitement, anybody would have thought I'd won the lottery! About a week later I got another email telling me that I'd won a spa break (value £250) Spa products and bars of chocolate - another first prize! By now I was opening my emails almost expecting to have won another prize but the next two weeks went by quietly with no prizes. I started to think the wins had been a fluke, then Voila! another win. It was another runner up prize of a DVD but it fuelled my hope and I entered more believing now that the 'law of averages' really does work. Another quiet couple of weeks then, BAM - another runner-up prize but this was one I was hoping for, A family pass to Pleasure Beach Blackpool. We had a wonderful day out with our daughter and granddaughter - all free of charge.<br />
<br />
That was at the end of July and I haven't won a thing since - so surely it must be time for me to receive another batch of winner's emails! Or, maybe this time it will be a phone call from ITV......... I live in hope!<br />
Many of the Loquax members have received a call from ITV.........They get on my nerves......... <br />
<br />
<br />
I may not be the luckiest person when it comes to competitions but I am lucky in love! (Smooth link or what?!) <br />
<br />
<br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Dream Lover</b></div>
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<br /></div>
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I met him in Liverpool</div>
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Don’t know why I was there, alone</div>
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He was handsome and very cool</div>
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Said his name was Joe Malone</div>
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<br /></div>
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I fell for Joe most instantly</div>
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He also seemed to fall for me</div>
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Together we had a wonderful day</div>
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That’s when I decided to play away</div>
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<br /></div>
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Just couldn’t help myself you see</div>
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These sort of things don’t happen to me</div>
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He said he played for Liverpool</div>
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Don’t go for footballers as a rule</div>
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<br /></div>
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We agreed to meet again next day</div>
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But I realised with much dismay</div>
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That now I must return to Jim<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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And break the news of Joe to him</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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I’ve got a boyfriend, I blurted out</div>
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His name is Joe. I had no doubt</div>
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That he’d be overjoyed for me</div>
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Jim’s a Liverpool fan you
see</div>
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<br /></div>
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When will you meet again? he asked</div>
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As in my newfound love I basked</div>
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Tomorrow I dreamily replied</div>
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I’ll come as well, Alright I sighed.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Don’t know why I agreed to this</div>
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As I remembered Joe’s sweet kiss</div>
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We do the strangest things in dreams</div>
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Especially ones with football themes</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So off we set for Liverpool</div>
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To meet the boyfriend, Joseph cool</div>
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At the station I nervously waited</div>
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For Joe to show, my breath was baited</div>
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<br /></div>
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But when Joe finally appeared</div>
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He’d changed and he looked really weird</div>
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His rugged face had been replaced</div>
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By an old and wrinkly woman’s face!</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What do you want to do today?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He asked as I began to pray</div>
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This wasn’t real and I was dreaming</div>
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I glanced at Jim, his face was beaming</div>
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<br /></div>
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Joe, first let me introduce</div>
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My husband, Jim, his face went peuce</div>
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We’ll get together another day</div>
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He said as he turned and hurried away</div>
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<br /></div>
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As I left with Jim, my ego was battered</div>
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My dreams of being a wag were shattered</div>
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He was a strange looking bloke noted Jim</div>
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I couldn’t help but agree with him</div>
<br />Barbarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08384012695549443392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205847426830222159.post-88613144982218345002011-10-30T06:00:00.000-07:002011-10-31T04:56:54.190-07:00<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Strange Week</b></span><br />
<br />
Any of you who know me will be aware that I am not 'into' fiction. I am a firm believer that truth is stranger. If my family want me to watch a film they always tell me that it is 'a true story'. I was half way through the Matrix before it dawned on me that it wasn't fact based!<br />
<br />
So why am I telling you this? I have had a very strange week and I have a feeling my life is going to get a lot stranger.<br />
<br />
It started with a tweet.....<br />
<br />
I - reluctantly - joined Twitter a whlie ago. I joined Facebook after being persuaded by some friends at college and quite enjoyed it for a while. But then I got a bit bored with it when I realised that I was spending a lot of time there, time that I should have been spending on something more productive. I gave up to social networking eventually just 'popping on' occasionally to see if anything new was happening.I kept hearing about Twitter and Tweets and eventually decided to have a look. After I joined, my Twitter page was abandoned for quite some time until I discovered a few college friends again on the site.That was the beginning of a new form of time-wasting (Sorry Twiiter friends, it's nothing personal!) I started tweeting and then I decided to start this blog - another new experience.Once more I seem to find myself in cyberspace almost as much as I am in the real world.<br />
<br />
I got a little bit excited about Twitter when I discovered that famous people used it and I started to follow some of my favourite people, mainly comedians because I like a good laugh. I follow Steve Martin, Eddie Izzard and paul Merton to name a few but I soon discovered that famous people don't talk to mere mortals such as me.<br />
<br />
In April 2009 I noticed a tweet from Paul Merton inviting people to join The Land of Grimney. I had a look and decided to join but being the technophobe that I am I couldn't work out how to navigate the site. I tried, again unsuccessfully to upload some poems to the site quite recently and emailed the admin team to ask for help. I received no reply and once again the site was abandoned.<br />
<br />
This brings you up to date with my background in social networking so what happened to make this week so strange?<br />
<br />
Firstly, I received an email from a wizard - I kid you not! Out of the blue I received an email from someone by the name of 'Word Wizard.' The email was to advise me that my email to them had 'slipped through the net' - I don't think there was any pun intended. I won't bore you with the details but I have spent most of this week in the Land of Grimney having conversations with all sorts of strange beings. I have a friend called Philomena who is a mermaid and works behind the bar at Holmes tavern, which is where I've spent most of my time - as you would expect. Philomena took me for a ride on her Kelpie to a lake where I met an ugly monster by the name of the Gwump.<br />
<br />
Back in the real world I am receiving emails from my wizard, friend who is advising me about my character in Grimney! For someone who has never had any interest in fantasy, fairies, witches, monsters and so on, I have quite enjoyed my visits to this strange land. Maybe I'm discovering my lost childhood or maybe I'm finally losing the plot, big time, I don't know but I'm enjoying a completely new experience - and gradually slipping away from Twitter land.<br />
<br />
Since 2006 my life has been constantly throwing up new adventures, the first of which was deciding to enroll on a degree course at my local college.<br />
<br />
If you had told me ten years ago that I would one day have an English degree, that I would spend half of my time in Cyberspace, that I would be writing (or at least attempting to write) poetry and finally that I would be having an adventure in a fantasy land, I would have assured you that you had got me confused with somebody else!<br />
<br />
I have no suitable poem to accompany this week's blog but I am going to attempt to create one. If no poem appears at the end - it means I failed.<br />
<br />
Thanks for reading and see you next week - unless I end up in outer space or something, I never know these days!<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At a Tavern in Grimney</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Meadow Goblinglitter stays</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In a nearby magic forest</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She whiles away her days</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She loves to sit and gaze beneath</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The purple snoozle tree</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At the comings and the goings </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Of that strange community</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There are witches,
there are wizards</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There are toads and mermaids too</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you like mystery and adventure</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You should visit Grimney too.</div>
<br />
Oh, alright it's probably not the best poem you've ever read but I only had half an hour......<br />
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<br />Barbarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08384012695549443392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205847426830222159.post-69121576482115719492011-10-24T02:03:00.000-07:002011-10-24T02:03:12.136-07:00<table><tbody>
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Death of a Dictator</div>
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So Colonel Gaddafi's dead and there are mass celebrations taking place across Libya. Freedom at last for people who have been ruled with an iron fist for forty years. So will Libya be transformed overnight into a flourishing democracy? I doubt it. Judging by the scenes surrounding the tyrant's final moments, I doubt it very much.</div>
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Whatever Gaddafi did when he was alive, by meting out the same horrific, barbaric treatment to him when he was lying helpless and injured, the mob showed that they had no more capacity for compassion than their fallen leader .It doesn't bode well for the emerging Libya to see scenes of a blood-soaked body being kicked and beaten to a chorus of jubilant rejoicing, reminiscent of howling packs of hounds ripping a fox apart.</div>
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As long as we subscribe to the notion that someone 'deserves' to die like that there is no hope for a peaceful existence on this planet.</div>
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Time and time again I am reminded of my favourite quote:</div>
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<i>An Eye for an Eye makes the Whole World Blind.</i><br />
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Instead of one of my own poems, this week I have decided to share some beautiful lyrics from a King Crimson song which are appropriate in view of the subject:<br />
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Peace - an End
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Peace is a word<br />Of the sea and the wind.<br />Peace is a bird who sings<br />As you smile.<br />Peace is the love<br />Of a foe as a friend;<br />Peace is the love you bring<br />To a child<br /><br />Searching for me<br />You look everywhere,<br />Except beside you.<br />Searching for you<br />You look everywhere,<br />But not inside you.<br /><br />Peace is a stream<br />From the heart of a man;<br />Peace is a man, whose breadth<br />Is the dawn.<br />Peace is a dawn<br />On a day without end;<br />Peace is the end, like death<br />Of the war.
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</div>Barbarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08384012695549443392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205847426830222159.post-67578433918109176622011-10-17T09:18:00.000-07:002011-10-24T03:48:17.095-07:00Would you really want £101 million?I've been reading about the latest Euro Millions winners who won the obscene amount of £101 million last week. It got me thinking. What a ridiculous amount of money that is to offer as a prize. I can put my hand on my heart and honestly say I wouldn't want that amount of money and, by the way, if I did win an amount like that I would definitely not be going public! What are those people thinking? They say they'd rather get it out in the open so they can 'enjoy' the money! I wonder if they're enjoying having their names dragged through the murky tabloids?<br />
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I keep telling people that if I won the lottery it wouldn't change me. They always laugh and say 'You don't know how it would change you until it happens.' I WISH I could win the lottery - if only to prove to people that I hadn't changed! I LOVE my little house - and little, it is. I feel safe and secure where I live. I have everything I need - which isn't much! These people who win always talk about buying a big house, a new car - the current winners are buying a new diamond engagement ring. They bought a ring when they got engaged but now want to replace it with a diamond one. What happened to sentimental value?<br />
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I do enter the lottery but if I ever win I have a plan which I'm dying to put into action. I won't be buying a flashy car or a mansion, I'm happy with what I've got. I'm not saying for one minute that I won't have a spending spree. It would be lovely to go out and buy whatever takes your fancy without checking the bank balance first. However I have never had access to one million pounds, let alone a hundred and one so I think having too much money would be nearly as bad as not having enough, not quite as bad I should stress but it would bring a new set of pressures.<br />
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So if I won £101 million I think I'd keep a million so that I could make my life easier and the lives of my family too. The other £100 million would go to making a whole lot of other people's lives better, after all the old saying, 'You can't take it with you.' is very true. Oh and naturally I will be looking after everyone who follows my blog - especially those who comment!!!!!<br />
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On that note, this week's poem is a 'tongue-in-cheek prayer that I wrote some time ago.<br />
See you next week.<br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Dear Lord,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Do you think that you could fix it for me</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">To win on the National lottery?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I wouldn’t ask for this normally</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">But my cash is depleting quite rapidly</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I won’t waste it on irrelevant things</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Like designer labels or lots of bling</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Or a mansion with furniture fit for a king</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I’m just fed up of tightening my purse strings</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I might splash out a bit, surely I can’t be blamed</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Because all of my life, Lord I’ve had to abstain</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">And to tell you the truth it’s becoming a bane</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">If I don’t get some cash soon I might go insane</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">If I’m totally honest I don’t think it’s fair</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">How some folk just seem to have more than their share</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">And you say of material things, we shouldn’t care</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">But it’s not easy, Lord when the cupboards are bare</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">I know I’ve not always been good, but I’ve tried</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">So I’d like you to put misdemeanors aside</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">And just for once give me an easy ride</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">That’s the end of my prayer, I’ll leave you to decide.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Following that post, have a read of this: http://www.lovemoney.com/news/family-finance/family-finance/13130/it-sucks-to-win-the-lottery?source=1000557 </span></div>Barbarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08384012695549443392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205847426830222159.post-60199664853033720042011-10-10T16:03:00.000-07:002011-10-11T01:25:49.262-07:00New StartRight this is how it works. From today this has become a weekly blog. I've just decided that! I made an executive decision. It's MY blog, I'm in charge, I make all the decisions, ok? It's developing into a blog about poetry and that was definitely not my intention. I am therefore going to make a conscious effort not to talk about poetry. My two loyal readers are going to get the impression that I'm a poetry geek - and I'm not. In fact I'm not any sort of geek, there it's official. Talking about poetry.......this is the last time I'll mention it - promise, I am going to end each blog with one of my poems. That way I get to talk about random stuff plus I get a chance to showcase some of my poems. I welcome feedback if only to confirm that I'm not talking to myself.....<br />
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I didn't realise it was National chocolate week this week until I saw it trending on Twitter. Tell you the truth I didn't even realise there was such a thing as chocolate week until today. I'm all in favour of it though, apparently chocolate week runs from the 11th to the 17th of October. Is there any week that isn't a 'something' week these days? There was a story on the local news tonight about a twelve year old school boy who had been suspended for setting up a tuck shop and selling chocolate to his school friends Apparently he had made a profit of £1000 in two weeks! People were asked for their opinions on the story. 'Should he have been suspended or congratulated for being an entrepeneur' Dragon, Duncan Bannatyne tweeted the programme saying 'No! He should get a bleedin' medal, sack the head teacher.'<br />
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For some reason I'm fancying a bar of chocolate now........<br />
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Until next week I'll leave you with this:<br />
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<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">PIANO</span></b></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">In a winter white room</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Stands a Grand piano</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Silent,</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Untouched by human hands</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Un-played and silent</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Composed</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">That piano stands</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">In dark shadows of a jail cell</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Sits a man</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Silent</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Untouched by emotion</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Unloved and silent</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Decomposing</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Sits that man</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">In the winter white room</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">And the shadowy cell</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">A ghostly voice</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Is often heard</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Echoing through the walls</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=5205847426830222159#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt;">[1]</span></span></span></span></a><span style="font-family: Arial;"> ‘Nothing to kill or die for</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">And no religion too’</span></div><div style="mso-element: footnote-list;"><br />
<hr align="left" size="1" width="33%" /><div id="ftn1" style="mso-element: footnote;"><div class="MsoFootnoteText"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=5205847426830222159#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 10pt;">[1]</span></span></span></a> <span lang="EN-GB">Extract from Imagine by John Lennon</span></div><div class="MsoFootnoteText"><br />
</div><div class="MsoFootnoteText"><span lang="EN-GB">I thought this was appropriate as yesterday would have been John Lennon's 71st birthday </span></div></div></div>Barbarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08384012695549443392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205847426830222159.post-37638867180708086422011-10-08T09:04:00.000-07:002011-10-08T09:04:03.372-07:00Poetry<div class="pagination prevNextPost" id="topPrevNextPost">I have been reading a blog this week about 'favourite poems' A different writer contributed to the blog every day describing what their favourite poem was and why. It was whilst reading this blog that it occurred to me how huge and diverse the subject of poetry is. Personally I like accessible poetry. I didn't realise until a few years ago that the 'hit song' Myfanwy by David Essex was actually a poem written by former Poet Laureate, Sir John Betjeman. This led me to buy a book of his poems and I found myself engrossed. Picking a favourite poem is like being asked to pick your favourite song - impossible! There are just too many songs - and poems to choose from.Well, Myfanwy is definitely one of my favourite poems so I have decided to share the words with you today and hope that you enjoy it as much as me.</div><a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=5205847426830222159&postID=3763886718070808642" title="824755-medium"><br />
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<b><br />
MYFANWY</b><br />
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Kind o’er the kinderbank leans my Myfanwy,<br />
White o’er the playpen the sheen of her dress,<br />
Fresh from the bathroom and soft in the nursery<br />
Soap scented fingers I long to caress.<br />
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Were you a prefect and head of your dormit'ry?<br />
Were you a hockey girl, tennis or gym?<br />
Who was your favourite? Who had a crush on you?<br />
Which were the baths where they taught you to swim?<br />
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Smooth down the Avenue glitters the bicycle,<br />
Black-stockinged legs under navy blue serge,<br />
Home and Colonial, Star, International,<br />
Balancing bicycle leant on the verge.<br />
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Trace me your wheel-tracks, you fortunate bicycle,<br />
Out of the shopping and into the dark,<br />
Back down the avenue, back to the potting shed,<br />
Back to the house on the fringe of the park.<br />
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Golden the light on the locks of Myfanwy,<br />
Golden the light on the book on her knee,<br />
Finger marked pages of Rackham's Hans Anderson,<br />
Time for the children to come down to tea.<br />
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Oh! Fullers angel-cake, Robertson’s marmalade,<br />
Liberty lampshade, come shine on us all,<br />
My! what a spread for the friends of Myfanwy,<br />
Some in the alcove and some in the hall.<br />
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Then what sardines in half-lighted passages!<br />
Locking of fingers in long hide-and-seek.<br />
You will protect me, my silken Myfanwy,<br />
Ring leader, tom-boy, and chum to the weak.<br />
<i><br />
John Betjeman</i>Barbarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08384012695549443392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205847426830222159.post-58560336307176925062011-10-07T05:48:00.000-07:002011-10-07T05:48:54.282-07:00I'm back!Hello again<br />
It seems like only yesterday that I was setting up this blog - oh, yes it was yesterday. I have decided that I will try to write something on here every day to keep my two followers entertained. You may be wondering why I chose the name 'Compaholic Barbara'. Well, basically it's because I'm a compaholic. But what's that got to do with poetry? I hear you ask (Or am I hearing voices now? - worrying) Well, when I set the blog up I was going to write about how easy it is to get hooked on entering competitions - especially when you start winning. Then I decided that I would showcase my poems here - I have written over a hundred now. I believe this is called - a lack of forward planning. I just jumped in feet first. I'm a bit like that you see. I'm like the wild horse I rode when I was 9! - that poem which some of you are already familiar with, will appear in a later blog. I'm tweaking it you see - being the perfectionist that I am! - albeit an unbroken perfectionist. I won't be posting poems every day - otherwise my blog will die in 100 days, but for now I have decided to offer for your consumption a little ditty I wrote one day after I had been a bit hard on myself. Hope you enjoy it and keep the feedback coming in. I'm overwhelmed by the one comment I've had so far.........<br />
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<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">SOMETIMES</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Sometimes</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">You are getting nowhere</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">So why do you insist</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">It’ll all work out</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Fine in the end</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">As long as you persist</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Sometimes</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">It might be better</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">If you just admit defeat</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Throw in the towel</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Let out a howl</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Accept that you are beat</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Sometimes</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">You shouldn’t be afraid</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">To lose once in a while</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Let down the stubborn barricade</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Just shrug it off</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">And smile</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Sometimes</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">It’s ok to admit</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">You made a big mistake</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Went in the wrong direction</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Stop aiming for perfection</span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Give yourself a break</span></div>Barbarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08384012695549443392noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5205847426830222159.post-8264532687695286482011-10-06T13:50:00.000-07:002011-10-06T13:51:36.644-07:00IntroductionsWell, here it is, my first blog ever. It's never too late to start something new, I should get a T shirt made with that slogan on it. I've been meaning to start a blog for ages but....well, the truth is I'm the definition of technophobe. I was just reading a writing website and it mentioned 'Blogger' I was attracted to this site because it said 'Easy to use' I've heard that one before. I'll see how it goes. I don't know about anybody else but whenever I sign up to a new site, Facebook, Twitter, Blogger....and am asked to write a profile, I freeze. I wonder if this is normal. I have decided to leave it for now until something interesting pops into my head - it could be a while!<br />
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I like writing poetry so I think I might use this blog to showcase some of my efforts. I would appreciate your feedback.<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal">SNOW JOKE – a Lancashire tale</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Bill the grumpy man next door </div><div class="MsoNormal">Often gave my mum what for</div><div class="MsoNormal">Her little cherubs he complained</div><div class="MsoNormal">Were running wild and unrestrained</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Chance came for sweet revenge one day</div><div class="MsoNormal">As she beckoned us to come and play</div><div class="MsoNormal">In snow that had fallen two feet deep</div><div class="MsoNormal">While we’d been drifting off to sleep</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">What possessed him we don’t know</div><div class="MsoNormal">But Bill had been and cleared our snow</div><div class="MsoNormal">Perhaps the path was his device</div><div class="MsoNormal">To end the feud and break the ice</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">But mummy’s angels had been wronged</div><div class="MsoNormal">And for this moment she had longed</div><div class="MsoNormal">A chance to air her deep frustration</div><div class="MsoNormal">Off she stormed for a confrontation</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Face to frosty face she came</div><div class="MsoNormal">With the perpetrator of her pain</div><div class="MsoNormal">Hands on hips she pursed her lips</div><div class="MsoNormal">Warrave yer done wi’ our snow? she quipped</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Bill was taken quite aback</div><div class="MsoNormal">By this incredulous attack</div><div class="MsoNormal">I’ve cleared a path for you he mumbled</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Put that snow back</i>, it’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">ours</i> she grumbled</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Bill’s jaw dropped in disbelief</div><div class="MsoNormal">Lost for words that slippery thief</div><div class="MsoNormal">The poor old wretch had met his match</div><div class="MsoNormal">When he ventured on to mummy’s patch</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So off he trundled with his spade</div><div class="MsoNormal">Quite disgruntled and dismayed</div><div class="MsoNormal">To re-instate our stolen snow</div><div class="MsoNormal">Truth or fiction? No - one knows</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div>Barbarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08384012695549443392noreply@blogger.com2