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ISSUE 247 Date: 27th July 2012

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Issue 247

Page 2

Eric Sykes

Quotes

If you understand comedy, you understand life. Drama, death, tragedy – everybody has these. But with humour you've got all these, and the anti-dote. You have found the answer. It doesn't follow that because you are a good comedy writer, you're a happy fellow. I've got one of the most miser-able faces in the world. I am only happy when I am working. If I'm not work-ing, I get screwed up because my time is going, my life is slipping by.

Quoted in The Guardian, Wednesday 4 July 2012

My theory is that we are all idiots. The people who don’t think they’re idi-ots — they’re the ones that are dangerous.

Quoted in The Daily Telegraph, 4 Jul 2012

I always say to young people, you can have the best script, be the funni-est man, but if they don't laugh - you're not a comedian.

Quoted in BBC obituary 4 July 2012

Eric Sykes (4 May 1923 – 4 July 2012) was an English radio, television and film writer, actor and director. (This page is in hom-age to Eric and an addendum to an earlier tribute.)

One of the funniest projects Eric Sykes ever worked on was ... THE PLANK

The Plank is a 1967 British slapstick comedy short film made by Associated London Films. It follows the mishaps of two builders who need a floorboard. It was written and directed by Eric Sykes, and produced by Jon Pennington. The film was based on an episode of Eric Sykes 1964 BBC comedy series, called 'Sykes

and A Plank'.

Although not strictly a silent film it has little spoken dialogue, but is punctuated by grunts, other vocal noises and sound effects from an all star comedy cast list for that period including such household names as Hattie Jacques and Arthur Lowe (Dads’ Army). Two builders have to fetch a floorboard for a house under construction. They return from the builders’ mer-

chant with the plank on top of a Morris Eight, but their journey is fraught with difficulties.

The film is a series of plank jokes elaborating on slapstick routines from vaudeville and silent films. In one scene the plank is tied to the top of the car and projects backward into the open back of a large van. A man enters the back of the van and sits down. The van drives away, leaving him suspended in mid-air sitting on the end of the plank. There are scenes from The Plank now available on YOUTUBE http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Plank_%281967_film%29 END NOTE: Eric would have loved the absurdity of this .... Apparently, the actual plank was sold at auction in December 2011 for £1,050

LIFE OBSERVATIONS It’s been a bad year for roses — black spot and rotted flower heads – too much rain. Compassion is in short supply. The heat is bringing with it swarms of flying ant like beetles. Social events become a lot more profitable when the sun comes out. Listening to a news programme last week, apparently the ‘fashion police’ say it is unacceptable for the over 60s to wear jeans and hoodies ... Ahh if we could only wait until these pundits were over 60 and then see if they give a monkey’s what anybody else thinks about their attire. Priorities ... in a chronic recession with millions on the dole it appears the old adage of ‘keeping the masses quiet with bread and circuses’ still holds true ... Betting Shops are being allowed to double their number of one-arm-bandits Apparently, there’s something going on in London on Friday ...

eviscerate v

transitive) To disembowel, to remove the viscera.

(transitive) To destroy or make ineffectual or meaningless.

pedantic adj

Overly concerned with formal rules and trivial points of learning.

swan song n

a final performance or accomplishment, especially one before retirement.

henpeck v

To nag persistently.

life of Riley n

An ideal life of carefree prosperity and contentment.

vote with one's feet v

To express one's preferences through one's actions, by participating in or volun-

tarily withdrawing from an activity, group, or process.

you-know-who pron

Person or entity whose name one does not want to mention but which is known

to the person to whom one is speaking.

Issue 247

Page 3

Clive‟s three free e-books NOW PUBLISHED on RBW and

issuu http://www.risingbrookwriters.org.uk/

DynamicPage.aspx?PageID=52

http://issuu.com/risingbrookwriters

Issue 247

Page 4

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

risingbrookwriters and on RBW main site

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

The chapbook is illustrated by some original artwork. She is a member of Staf-

ford Art Group. Next exhibition: Millbank Gallery, October 2012.

Random words: cardigan, marigold, whimsy, livid, behind,

smith, flash, hurricane.

Assignment: NEW SHOES

2012 RBW e-books NOW PUBLISHED on RBW and issuu

http://www.risingbrookwriters.org.uk/DynamicPage.aspx?

PageID=52

http://issuu.com/risingbrookwriters

COPYRIGHT

More than any other question we are asked is about copyright,

especially digital copyright.

The same may have been happening to the good folks at Digital

Unite, who, if you don‟t know, are the guys behind Silver Surfers‟

Day. They have produced a simple to understand guide to

copyright online:

http://digitalunite.com/guides/using-internet-0/searching-browsing/guide-copyright-

online?

utm_medium=email&utm_source=Digital+Unite+Ltd&utm_campaign=1487198_July

+newsletter&dm_i=13LU,VVJ2,5MZCIW,2MS3H,1

There‟s also info about free e-books and free to use pictures.

David had theatre tickets for a West End show that evening, and was meeting

his wife at Euston, having been away on business.

The train carriage bobbed on the track as the waiter in First Class brought

David his breakfast kippers and coffee. As he ate, he felt a pang of toothache. A

fishbone had punctured his gum, drawing blood. In the toilet, he rinsed his

mouth in the sink. The bleeding stopped. The pain persisted.

He rang his wife.

“Could you make me an emergency appointment, darling?” he asked nerv-

ously. He dreaded the dentist, but knew he needed urgent attention.

“Pain free dentistry,” the board outside announced. He hoped so

“Lie back, close your eyes, relax, and it‟ll be over….” Calming music played,

soothing his nerves. The cunning, stealthy dentist jabbed him with a needle and

twisted the offending tooth out, “… before you know it.”

It was poetic justice, seeing that David‟s calling was also a dentist. (PMW)

As the carriage entered the driveway of the shoot all Polly could think

about was a pressing need to visit the toilet and a bout of ranging tooth-

ache. It was all her own fault, she should never have had B&B kippers for

breakfast. There was no justice in the world: for all the stealthy cunning

she had learned in her calling for the stage, no role in a costume drama to

sell toothpaste was beneath an actor of her calibre. The theatre might be in

her blood, said the text from her agent, but roles for a woman of her age

were few. At that moment a horse bolted, a wheel twisted, Polly shot off

the seat, her face bumped the door handle and both her pressing problems

were solved as new face of Soso Toothdrops lapsed into blackness.

(SMS)

Someone challenged Noel Coward to write a song

about the next thing spoken, and „Miss Otis Re-

grets‟ was created. This week I felt challenged to

combine the random words into a play to be set to

music. I believed that with the right lyricist our ef-

forts, when performed in theatre, would be bril-

liant. There would be no young lady unable to

come to dinner. „Carnage of the Kippers‟ would

portray a meal calling out for diners, the cunning

villain, a stealthy and twisted dentist, invents an

aerosol that when sprayed into the air abolishes

the smell of kippers, but happily for the dentist,

causes excruciating toothache when inhaled.

There is no justice! My lyricist flushed my master-

piece down the toilet. (YW)

© Yanc | Stock Free Images & Dreamstime Stock Photos

Issue 242

Page 6 Issue 247

Page 6

Issue 242

Page 6 Issue 247

Page 8

Tom & Jean‟s wedding

The Church of the Bleeding Heart, Trentby Minster was getting crowded, even the

short notice hadn‟t stopped many of the local legal professionals from turning up,

not to mention a few who looked to them to keep them inside the bars they pre-

ferred, and outside the bars they deserved.

After all, it wasn‟t every day that an up-and-coming member of the legal profession

married into the burgeoning recycling business. There were a few who speculated,

quietly, that it might be a good thing to keep a weather eye on the two firms.

Conflict of interest and all that? Hmm? Not with the old chap in charge! He’ll keep

it private as sure as eggs are eggs. Going public on the other side maybe, unlisted of

course, could be a few shares going spare. Just something to keep it in mind old

chap, nod’s as good as a wink and all that!

Tom was busy with his last minute preparation, but not busy as Jean was with hers.

„Meg are you sure that this dress will stay on?‟ Jean had asked Tom‟s sisters,

Megan and Barbara to be her bridesmaids, and they‟d spent the last 36 hours run-

ning around getting dresses altered and generally in a tizzy.

„Of course, Jean. You don‟t think I‟d let my favourite sister-in-law go up the aisle in

something that was going to fall off do you?‟ Megan replied. „I know it feels a bit like

it is but it‟ll stop on okay, just as long as you don‟t try running in it. But Tom‟s not go-

ing to run away from you, not while you‟re wearing that anyway! Throw you over his

shoulder and run away with you is much more likely.‟

Babs passed her a roll of double-sided sticky tape. „This is what you need, Jean. If

you put some of this in the right places not only won‟t it fall off, it‟ll take you and Tom

some time to get you out of it; and that could be some really good fun.‟ Babs, ever

the organiser, said, „Have you got everything Jean? You know; Something Old, some-

thing New, something Borrowed and something Blue.‟

„Something old and something blue, yes, my lucky scarab. That‟s very old and very

blue at the same time.” She showed them. „Something borrowed? Our dresses are

hired so that‟s borrowed, and something new?‟ She thought for a second or so,

„Shoes! We‟ve all got new shoes. That‟s it, all the four.‟

They all looked stunning in their gowns, the colours melded splendidly and they

had the upright carriage to go with it.

„Well, don‟t we look the business?‟ Meg said. „Three flowers blooming in the snow.‟

„Snow?‟ Babs blurted out. „What snow are you on about, Meg. The forecast was for

dry and warm! If it snows we‟ll freeze to death in these clothes.‟

Meg sighed. She‟d forgotten just how literal Babs could be sometimes.

„Metaphorical snow, Babs. Not real snow!‟

„Ohh; that‟s alright then.‟ Babs was visibly relieved. Jean snorted, it wasn‟t ladylike

but laughing at these pair with a mouthful of tea was difficult.

„Less than half an hour to go ladies!‟ Madame Moredebt, the couturier said poking

her head around the door. „Any problems that need my attention?‟

„Not a single one,‟ declared Meg to her friend. „You get yourself off to The Minster,

Muriel. If there are any problems it‟s going to be there.‟

The neoclassical front of „The Minster‟, better known as The Church of The Bleed-

ing Heart, was bathed in sunlight. Through the open doors came the sounds of the

organ playing a selection of light music, a recent innovation by the incumbent, the

Reverend William Warmer, who‟d told his congregation that it would be an improve-

ment. He was right; even if the organist disagreed and wanted to play pop music.

The new walkways, required under the Disability Discrimination Act, matched the

design, were smooth, well swept, and looked to be an ancient part of the surround-

ings. Looking around him at the usual, confused jumble of traffic jams in the narrow

streets, long abandoned road works mouldering into picturesque cityscape features, and over-

filled builders skips left in the worst possible places; the vicar sighed happily as he said to

himself, „God's in his Heaven and all's right with the World,‟ before scuttling off to check that

the choir girls weren't bullying the boys, again!

„What time are the Taxis due, Babs?‟ Meg wanted to know.

„You ordered them, Meg. What time did you tell them to be here?‟ Barbara replied.

Megan looked blank. „But you were the one looking after that, Babs. It was on your list of

things to do!‟

Jean was busy doing fiddly things with sticky tape and the top of her gown. „It looks like none

of us have. There‟s only one thing for it! Babs, get onto one of the taxi firms fast,‟ she said.

„Trentby Cabs is the nearest. Ask Pat Miller if she can do us two cabs here in fifteen minutes.

Tell her it‟s my wedding and it‟s an emergency; she‟ll understand.‟

In the office of what had been the amalgamation of Concorde and Cavalry Cabs, plus most

of Trentby Wedding Cars, but was now Trentby Cabs & Wedding Cars, the new phone system

was working well. At least Pat thought so, now she‟d, almost, got the hang of it.

„Trentby Cabs and Wedding Cars. Pat speaking, how can we help you?‟ She said into the

mouthpiece.

A rushed message, one she didn‟t understand, came out. Something about an emergency

and a wedding at the dressmakers shop or maybe at the Minster. She wasn‟t sure.

„Could you repeat all that please? „ She asked the flustered woman at the other end of the

line. The story was a bit clearer this time.

„Two cabs for a wedding at Madame Moredebt‟s Le Couturier? But they aren‟t allowed to do

weddings there!‟ Pat was sure of that. „Start again, my love,‟ she advised. „Deep breaths‟, for

some reason that got a hysterical giggle from the far end, „Now; you want two cabs at Le Cou-

turier in how long?‟

The voice on the phone changed. „Hi, Pat. It‟s Jean Grabble here. We‟ve have a problem. We

didn‟t book any cars for my wedding; which is in twenty minutes at the Church of the Bleeding

Heart; can you rustle up a couple of cabs for me, please?‟

Wedding and Jean Grabble were the two things that Pat had thought would never go to-

gether, because Jean was just too plain bossy for her own good. „Right you are then Jean. It

will be done!‟

Turning round she called into the drivers‟ ready room, „Panic call! Anybody who can get one

of the White Wedding Cars on the road in the next five minutes is wanted at Le Couturier ten

minutes ago.‟ Two voices answered her. „Got one ready, already‟, shouted „Billy the Kid‟, the

firms oldest and longest serving driver, to the sound of an engine being started and a delicate

screech of tyres as he departed.

„There in a jiffy, Pat,‟ called „Hoppy‟ Cassidy as he dragged his boots off the couch and

tipped the office cat out of his white cowboy hat. He always wore a white hat for weddings; he

didn‟t know why but thought it was better somehow.

Pat heard the sound of starter whirring and then Hoppy shouting. „Start yer goldurned thing,

start will yer.‟ It didn‟t work.

„I‟ll have to take the wheelchair car, Pat‟, he called. „It‟s white anyway, but I‟m leaving the

chair on the hoist so don‟t book it out until I get back.‟ There was the sound of tyres on the

floor and he was gone. Pat relaxed and phoned Le Couturier to pass on the news.

As Jean had said it wasn‟t far for the cars to come, however, that wasn‟t, thanks to traffic

snarl-ups and road works, the same thing as taking a short time. By dint of some unorthodox

short cuts, and driving that could only be described as „competitive‟, Billy was outside the

shop in less than the ten minutes he‟d thought it‟d take.

Meg and Babs popped out of the door as he drew up.

„Right you gorgeous ladies,‟ he said as, with a little help from his foot, he care-

fully placed the train of Megan‟s dress in the back of the cab. „Bleeding Heart, five

minutes. Fasten your seat belts we‟re about to take off!‟

„Is my hair okay, Meg?‟ Babs asked her sister four minutes later as the car pulled

up at the Church Close entrance to the Minster. „I never knew that you could get

here that way, even if you walked!‟

Billy smiled; he‟d been wanting an excuse to use some of those, not illegal but

definitely frowned on, short cuts for ages. „All perfectly legal and above board la-

dies,‟ he assured them. „It‟s just not often you see the backs of some of those

buildings, is it? Still all safe and sound and here now. Now just you get into church

and get ready for the big occasion, all smiles and happy. Which one of you‟s get-

ting married by the way?‟

„Neither of us‟, Megan explained. „Jean Grabble‟s marrying our brother Tom

Green. We‟re along for the experience, it‟s the first time we‟ve been bridesmaids.‟

‟If I were you I‟d go and sooth him. Hoppy was on the radio and says that with

traffic as it is the bride‟s going to be late. Another ten minutes at least I‟d say.‟

Babs interjected. „But it didn‟t take you that long, so why should, Hoppy I think

you called him, take any longer?‟

„‟Cos Hopalong‟s not a Trentby native lad, Miss Green. I grew up here and used

these streets as a playground. That matters when you want some serious short

cuts.‟

Mick Grabble came over, well barbered and looking resplendent in a top hat and

tails, „Hi girls, you look absolutely fabulous, but where‟s Jean then?‟

„On the way, we‟ve been told, Mick. Another ten minutes or so according to this

gentleman.‟ Megan replied indicating Billy, as the girls, all smiles, went off towards

the main doors

The two men, who knew each other, exchanged greetings in the form of a

„Morning‟ as Billy nodded in confirmation.

„Hoppy‟s driving, Mick. Says the traffic‟s terrible, even worse than a match day.‟

„Right! Thanks, Billy. You doin‟ the drop off afterwards?‟

„Dunno, Mick. Pat didn‟t say but I expect so. Anyway, we haven‟t got another wed-

ding this morning so there‟s no problem. Where you got the „do‟ any-road up?‟

„Labour Club I think, Billy. Jean‟s been in and out of there since she was a nipper;

and now the re-build‟s finished after that pop group wrecked the place it‟s got

some good facilities, so it makes sense.‟

„That to-do at Chummy‟s almost wedding certainly set the place afire. What with

the bride running off with his cousin and all. Where is he as a matter of interest? I

haven‟t seen the Honourable Jason Fortesque-Chumleigh around recently.‟

Mick jerked his thumb over his shoulder. „In there, Billy. He‟s the best man!‟

„Best man! How did he land that one?‟

„Tom‟s best mate at school, so I‟m told. He‟s also dragged his Dad and step

mother along so we‟ve got Sir Lancelot and Lady Britney Fortesque-Chumleigh as

well as Fiona Finzy, Chummy‟s latest lady friend in there.‟

„Sooner you than me, mate. Who have you brought along by the way as your plus

one?‟

„At present I‟m helping a poor widow in her grief.‟ Mick said with a straight face.

„Her husband was, tragically, killed in an accident on some water little while ago.

I'm afraid The Countess of Trentby needs a lot of consolation, poor darling. I'm of-

fering her some assistance in that direction.‟

Billy gulped. This lot knew a LOT of the nobs around here. „Righty-ho then. I‟d bet-

ter get this cab out of the way before Hoppy gets here with the bride. Ta-ra!‟

Across town a white cab, equipped for wheel chairs, was departing Le Couturier. Hopalong,

was fuming at the traffic and at the designers of the cab. Owing to the fullness of her multilay-

ered skirt, he‟d been unable to get Joan in the main body and had had to put her into the

wheel chair housed in the back.

„Not much chance of getting to the Bleeding Heart on time Jean‟, Hopalong apologised. „I‟ll

use some of the back streets and short cuts but this thing‟s too unwieldy to do it properly.‟

Billy, talking to Mick, was busy not answering the radio until it was too late.

Ten minutes later people were thinking of leaving the Minster saying, „The bride's done a

bunk‟. The organist thought that this was a happy moment to introduce his ideas of what an

organist should play and, swell pedal hard down, burst into a rendition beginning with „Yellow

Submarine‟.

While Hoppy was saying, „There's only one thing for it Jean; the King Arthur bridge!‟

„That's a foot bridge, Hoppy. You can't get a cab across it and anyway it‟s illegal. They‟ll have

your license if you get caught.‟

„That‟s what people think, Jean.‟ Hoppy said as he turned into a narrow side road. „When Ar-

thur King built that bridge it was intended to be part of an inner relief road, but it‟s never been

closed to traffic. It‟s just that folks think it has.‟

Rocketing along at a lot more than the legal 30 mph, Hoppy turned onto the „King Arthur‟,

horn going full blast; scattering pedestrians like confetti in his wake. The Minster Courtyard

was, except for a few haphazardly parked cars, empty; which allowed Hoppy a chance to really

cram the speed on, he exited it at almost 70 mph and, braking hard, pulled up at the front

Minster front.

As part of this manoeuvre, assisted by the handbrake, he turned the cab sharply. Jean, al-

though belted into the electric wheel chair, was thrown forwards and hit the door release han-

dle. The chocks on the chair mechanism hadn‟t been designed for this and, with a loud

„THUNK‟ released their hold on the wheels.

Seeking a handhold, Jean grabbed the chair control handles as the chair was ejected from

the back of the cab. Being what could be called a genius in the mechanical arts Dusty had

„souped-up‟ the motors. Instead of the stately 4 mph it was designed for, they now gave the

chair an impressive turn of speed.

Fortunately, the new smooth path gave the chair a soft landing as it shot towards the open

doors. People leaving the church, thinking the wedding had been abandoned, scattered before

the screaming apparition bearing down on them. The verger yelled in alarm and leapt to one

side as the chair, vaulting the two processional steps inside the door, disappeared in the gen-

eral direction of the Lady Chapel.

By this time, Jean had begun to get hold of herself and hauled back on the two control han-

dles. Unfortunately, heavy braking hadn‟t figured as a design feature and the chair slowed

more than braked. This would have been perfectly acceptable if the cleaner hadn‟t removed

some of the floor gratings to get to the heating system.

Tom Green was in „a bit of a stew‟ by this time. His utterly and absolutely marvellous and be-

loved Jean had deserted him, and before they were even married. Mentally he corrected that

statement; before they were LEGALLY married. Pacing about in the aisle, he saw Jean, and the

chair, hurtling towards the impending doom of the heating system and took action.

Rugby football was his school game, none of the effete soccer was allowed, so he took a

short run and tackled the chair scooping Jean out of its clutches just before it plunged into the

stygian depths of the crypt. A short hiatus ensued before the ceremony started.

Half an hour later Mr & Mrs Green appeared at the main doorway to the applause of the

crowd. If Mrs Green appeared, a little shaken it was put down to the stress of getting married

and if Mr Green appeared a trifle dishevelled that was not to be wondered at.

Being married to „That Grabble Girl‟ was enough to make any hot-blooded man sweat a bit.

„The little ****. He‟s been doing what?‟ hissed Sharlene, her gothic dead-pan makeup

turning puce around the edges and her black painted eyelids contracting into beady slits

of pure evil intent. „Wait till I see him, I‟ll give him a ...

„Hang on, Sharlene, I can see you‟re upset,‟ pleaded Randolph dreading the fact that

the girl of his dreams wasn‟t daft and she‟d pretty soon realise that he must know more

about Barry‟s illicit telescope than he was prepared to let on.

„Don‟t you “hang on” me, Randolph Andover. I want to know how long you‟ve

known about Barry, the Degas of Trentby. Are you telling me he‟s making a fortune

online drawing manga warriors based on me in the all together? The midnight blue

shield-maiden with the dragon tattoo and the Egyptian beetle cartouche ... that‟s me?

Princess Angelikka? ‟

Randolph wasn‟t too sure how Degah

came into it, or actually who Degah

was, but he didn‟t want to show his

ignorance. So he fessed up to what he

actually understood of her question.

„Yeah, you‟re Princess Angelikka! Not

long, Shar, honest only a day or two.‟

„Wait a minute, you dog! That‟s what

all that palaver on Saturday with the big

brolly was all about, wasn‟t it?‟ In truth

Sharlene had never been more flattered

and she couldn‟t hold back a chuckle at

this point as she had a flashback of the

sight of him sitting in the goldfish

pond. Even though it rankled that she

had spent twenty five quid downloading

the primal Amazonia warrior character

she found was now based on herself.

„Sorry,‟ said Randolph taking his

change and picking up the bag of mixed

fondant fancies from the counter. „I

really am. I‟m going to shut him down,

honest.‟

„Oh, no. No you‟re not, not until I‟ve been well and truly compensated and per-

haps ... no, not now I‟ll give this some thought. Meet me after work,‟ she said, a sticky

hand grasping his hairy wrist. Stunned by the first physical contact with a girl since

he‟d had his TB booster jab in high school and the nurse‟s thigh had brushed his arm,

Randolph nodded as sweat trickled into his eyes. Stumbling out of the cake shop his

feet didn‟t quite reach the ground and he fell straight into the arms of their local cross-

dressing upholder of the Queen‟s peace, who quick as a wink had the young offender

back on his feet.

„ „ello, „ello, „ello, what‟s going on here?‟ said the expression all over the crime

fighter‟s much abused countenance.

It was a pivotal life-turning moment. A ping went off in his brain. Now Randolph

knew what he had to do to get his over-possessive mother off his back. This was turn-

ing out to be quite a day.

Stock free images

EDGAR DEGAS

Named as Hilaire-Germain-Edgar De Gas, 19 July 1834 – 27 September

1917), was a French artist famous for

painting, sculpture, printmaking and

drawing. He is now regarded as one

of the founders of Impressionism

although he preferred to be called a

realist.

The Dance Class

(La Classe de

Danse),1873–1876,

oil on canvas, by

Edgar Degas

Images and source material Wikipedia

Penny Wheat writes ....

Extract from her ... Letter to America Blog

We Brits are obsessed with the weather. The rest of the world knows

that. It‟s easily the most popular topic of conversation. You might assume

that given what a special year this is for us on this side of the pond, we‟d be

discussing the Queen‟s Diamond Jubilee, and the Olympics, but no, as usual,

it‟s the weather.

In Britain, we get a lot of weather. OK, maybe it‟s not BIG weather

like yours. We have the occasional mini tornado, which might lift a few roof

tiles or uproot the odd tree. But they‟re certainly not five miles wide and to-

tally devastating, like some of yours. And as for hurricanes, well, we know

nothing of them. So why the obsession? Well, though we live in a temperate

climate, most years, no two days in Britain are the same, so the weather cer-

tainly keeps us on our toes, so to speak.

Months which in theory should be expected to be spring-like, quite of-

ten are not. And winters are not always wintery. Take March, for instance.

We had a fortnight (fourteen nights, or two weeks) of temperatures in the

80s. And the last two weeks in May were the same. As a result, a hosepipe

ban was introduced in many parts of the country, to conserve precious water

supplies.

But in case we got too used to basking and relaxing in the sun, Mother

Nature had a joke at our expense and brought us back down to earth with a

bang. The start of June saw black, threatening clouds and cool temperatures.

For three solid months we‟ve had nothing but lowering skies and intermina-

ble rain. People‟s moods have been affected profoundly by the lack of sun-

shine and day after day of driving rain. Yes, we know we are lucky to have

adequate water, unlike millions in the Third World, but you can have too

much of a good thing.

The Jet Stream, which most folk had never heard of six months ago,

was to blame; we were informed by the meteorologists. Now, I warrant, not

a single citizen above the age of five isn‟t familiar with its vagaries. To any-

one working in the tourist industry, booking a holiday in Britain or living (as

I do) on low-lying ground, the Jet Stream became public enemy Number

One.

People living in the picturesque Yorkshire town of Hebden Bridge

were flooded out three times in two weeks, and scores of garden parties,

summer fetes and festivals were cancelled due to flooding or acres of mud,

making access impossible. So far, three-quarters of the way through July,-

2012 has been a miserable summer, or more accurately, a non-existent one.

But joy of joy, we are assured that that pesky Jet Stream is moving north,

and we can expect more seasonal weather next week. As I write this, it is

pouring down.

Issue 247

Page 17

There’s a brand new mix of material in The Loop on Radio Wildfire – Now playing 24/7 a completely new selection of stories, satires, poetry, spoken word, music and interview @ www.radiowildfire.com - another two hours of live literature and chat. Now playing 24/7 a completely new selection of stories, satires, poetry, spoken word, music and interview @ www.radiowildfire.com - another feast of live literature and chat. In this edition ... The Loop brings you - Heather Wastie, both recorded live in performance and talking to us in the Radio Wildfire studio about her current use of literature to campaign about the loss of a com-

munity resource. The Loop brings you tracks selected by Awen Publications featuring work from Kevin Man-waring, James Hollingsworth and Jay Ramsey & Friends. The Loop brings you the whole of River Passage, a word and music trip along the River Severn from Jeff Phelps with music from Dan Phelps. The Loop brings you poetry performed with soundscapes with Barry Patterson's Spirit House Century Song, and Mark Goodwin's Light Myth. The Loop brings you music from David Francis, Will Johnson, and Brendan Hawthorne & Kerry Halford, There are also tracks from The Loop Archive with Melinda Deathgoth, Stereogram and the late Roi Kwabena The Loop brings you the latest part of Mal Dewhirst's series The Lost Poets. In this episode he looks at the poet John Rawlet. PLUS: Irons In The Fire: Jan Watts' Laureate's Diary - the monthly diary from Birmingham's Poet Laureate. So join us and listen by going to www.radiowildfire.com and clicking on The Loop The Loop is curated by Vaughn Reeves and will play online continuously for the next month, ex-cept during our live broadcast on Monday 6th August starting at 8.00pm UK time with a full programme of pre-recorded tracks, live studio guests and conversation. WHAT IS RADIO WILDFIRE?

Radio Wildfire is an independent online radio station which blends spoken word, poetry, perform-ance literature, comedy, storytelling, short stories and more with a novel selection of word/music fusion and an eclectic mix of musical styles. www.radiowildfire.com currently broadcasts live 8.00-10.00pm (UK time) on the first Monday of every month. Listen to Radio Wildfire at www.radiowildfire.com where The Loop plays 24 hours a day.

(CMH)

“There just ain‟t no justice in this world,” said Pipe as he sat staring, morosely at the empty bowl of

his favourite briar

“We knows that,” replied Shandy, as he sat nursing a half-empty glass. “I mean if there was any jus-

tice it‟d have been gold plated and sold off a long time ago. Probably got some in the British Museum

though. „Course that‟d be ancient stuff that would. Likely, it‟d not get past the modern Health and

Safety rules. Anyway, where‟s G&T got too? It‟s not like him to be late.”

“Had to go to the dentists, didn‟t he. Got a toothache. He reckons it‟s a stealthy toothache; a cunning

one he says, „cos it only happens when he‟s doing something that requires concentration.”

“You mean like when you‟re in the theatre and it‟s just got to a twisted part of the plot I suppose.

The bit where the Inspector‟s going to unmask the villain, maybe?”

“Nothing like that, Shandy. He say‟s it‟s when he‟s just sitting down to enjoy his morning kippers.”

“Well! There we are then! Kippers! For breakfast! Never would have thought it of him you know,

Pipe. It‟s a real mans‟ calling is facing up to a ravening kipper on the breakfast table.”

“How do you deal with them, Shandy? When you wife gives them to you that is?”

“W-e-ll, that all depends on the weather, doesn‟t it, Pipe. In good weather, I takes „em down the gar-

den; to the old shed you know, and beats „em to death with a chunk of an old toilet I keep down

there.”

“But what about when it‟s bad weather?”

“Oh that‟s easy, Pipe. I runs „em through the old mangle. O‟ course the wife doesn‟t like me doing

it, says it mucks up her flower arranging or some‟at. Big on pressed flowers is the wife, it‟s her latest

hobby; now she‟s given up on the bare fisted horse shoe bending.”

“Ohh, hmm. I suppose it‟s my turn to get the drinks in is it?”

“Got to be, Pipe. It was my turn last time. And the Shaw‟s ain‟t here.”

Issue 247

Page 16

Lucy Maud Montgomery OBE (November 30, 1874 – April 24, 1942),

called "Maud" by family but professionally

known as L.M. Montgomery, was a Canadian

author and poet best known for her novels.

(Anne of Green Gables,1908. )

Wikipedia image and source material

Now a children‟s classic, the central character, Anne, an orphan, made Montgom-

ery famous and gave her an international following. The first novel was followed by

sequels with Anne as the central character.

Montgomery published 20 novels, 500 short stories and a great many poems. The

novels were mostly set on Prince Edward Island, Canada which meant the province

became scattered with literary landmarks much loved by her readers. She was

honoured by being the first woman in Canada to be named a fellow of the Royal

Society of Arts in England and was awarded the Order of the British Empire in

1935.

Her fame was not limited to Canada. Anne of Green Gables became an interna-

tional success. Every year, thousands of tourists make a pilgrimage to a green-

gabled Victorian farmhouse in the town of Cavendish on Prince Edward Island

where the story is set. A national park was established near Montgomery's home

in Cavendish.

Montgomery's home of Leaskdale Manse in Ontario and the area surrounding

Green Gables and her Cavendish home in Prince Edward Island have both been

designated National Historic Sites of Canada. Montgomery herself was designated

a Person of National Historic Significance by the Government of Canada in 1943

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lucy_Maud_Montgomery

Aged 10 1884

An April Night

The moon comes up o'er the deeps of the woods,

And the long, low dingles that hide in the hills,

Where the ancient beeches are moist with buds

Over the pools and the whimpering rills;

And with her the mists, like dryads that creep

From their oaks, or the spirits of pine-hid springs,

Who hold, while the eyes of the world are asleep,

With the wind on the hills their gay revellings.

Down on the marshlands with flicker and glow

Wanders Will-o'-the-Wisp through the night,

Seeking for witch-gold lost long ago

By the glimmer of goblin lantern-light.

The night is a sorceress, dusk-eyed and dear,

Akin to all eerie and elfin things,

Who weaves about us in meadow and mere

The spell of a hundred vanished Springs.

Lucy Maud Montgomery

© Terhox | Stock Free Images & Dreamstime Stock Photos

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