Keith's Ramblings

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“If you could choose one drink before you die, what would it be?” asked Arthur, “I’d have a double malt whisky,” said Colin, “a pint of local ale”, said Bob, “a jug of cider”, said  George, “a gin and tonic”, said Babs, “I like Sex on the Beach”, shouted Suzie from the other side of the room – “OY”, yelled Landlord Len, “I’ll have none of that crude talk in my pub!”, “it’s a cocktail”, said Suzie, “a cock tale, what will they be telling stories about next?”

“I was walking Noodle the Poodle in the park yesterday, she was stopping at every pole and post checking pee-mails like she does, and I thought I saw that Ken chappy coming towards me, I said hello and he ignored me; he wouldn’t do that, he must have a double”, said George; “oh, that’ll be Ben” explained Colin, “Ken is one of three identical triplets, Ken, Ben and Jen, although Jen does have a few bits hidden away that are a little different from her brother’s!

I remember the time Jen was off school ill, and Ken thought it would be a laugh to dress up as her, so he got a wig from the fancy dress shop, stuffed some socks into Jen’s bra, put on her uniform and off he went; when the other girls said ‘hello Jen’, he just smiled back – he had quite a deep voice!

It was all going well until he decided he needed to use the toilet before class, imagine his horror when he discovered the girl’s loo had no urinals, so in desperation he stood on tiptoes and wee’d in a wash basin – he got into so much trouble!”

“I don’t see the big deal with triplets, you see one, you’ve seen them all” joked Colin, “a guy was trampled by triplets, now he’s six feet under, and there’s a drummer with triplets called, Anna One, Anna Two, Anna Three, I could go on but three puns are enough!” 

Arthur was attempting a codeword puzzle, “I’m stuck”, he said, “I was doing well until this word came along and I’m getting really fed up, it goes C, something, double E, something, L, double S, something, something and then another double S”; Babs produced her mirror, “look at your miserable face and you’ll get a clue” she said – “got it”, cried Arthur, “cheerlessness!”

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Thanks to Denise at GirlieOnTheEdge for hosting Six Sentence Stories. When I discovered this week’s word was Double, I thought I might get away with twelve sentences … then I thought again! 

for Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers.

 

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It’s a long climb, puff , but it’s worth every, huff,  step. I mean, just look!

Before us, green fields, trees, hedgerows and cute little lambkins.

To our left, rolling hills crowned with puffy white clouds.

Turn right … whoops, mind the wonky floorboard …  and gaze at the sea, an endless pool of blue, well, it’s greyish today but awe-inspiring nonetheless. 

Above us, our future. Below, our past. 

What lies behind I wonder, and what’s that smell? Poo, it’s the rubbish tip.

However, every empty can and every screwed-up wrapper has a tale to tell … where are you going? 

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Click a Froggie to visit the squares

 

 

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

…for Wordless Wednesday and bloghops various!

A few pictures from Nepal, Peru, Cambodia, Italy, Morocco, Turkey, China, Greece, and England!

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…finally, this is the Bishop’s door into Wells Cathedral which dates back to 1756 and is still in use today!

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Here’s Linky!

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I didn’t just want to make a wish, I needed to. I thought it best to seek advice on the best way to go about it. No, I didn’t  Google it, I turned to that clever fella from ancient Greece, Socket, Sockinit … erm … Socrates, yes, that’s the chappie.

He said, and I quote … I wrote it down somewhere … ah, yes … ‘be as you wish to seem’. Actually, that was no help at all, I hadn’t a clue what it meant so I decided to leave it to my own devices.

I was sure I’d read somewhere about launching a candlelit lantern into the air and making a wish as it flies off into the distance. My first, and second attempt at making a lantern went up in smoke, literally, but I managed to find a supplier of genuine ones online. Fortunately, it was delivered by a courier – I had a strange feeling it might fly here by itself!

That evening I carefully studied the instructions before igniting the little candle, raising it above my head and setting it free. I was midway through uttering my wish when a gust of wind took control of it. I daren’t tell my neighbour that it was I that set fire to his precious gazebo, or gazegone as it is now!

Not one to give up, I turned to plan B. A message in a bottle is a popular way of communicating, so I jotted down my wish on a scrap of paper, added my phone number, poked it into the said receptacle and chucked it into the sea! It immediately came back to the shore. I had another go and another. Eventually, it floated off toward the horizon! 

Imagine my delight when I got a text from someone in France! As I can’t read French, I sought help from Google traduction (translation, to you and me!) but I was dismayed to discover it was a complaint about me throwing a plastic bottle into the ocean. I guess I should have used a glass one.

You are probably wondering what my wish was. Well, to be honest, I can’t remember! I wish I didn’t keep forgetting things.

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Thanks to Sadje for hosting her What Do You See? photo prompt.

Image credit; Leon Contreras @ Unsplash

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Spears of rain darted down, piercing his hands and face like a thousand needles. In his arms, he carried a heavy load. Not far to go, the door was in sight. He fumbled for his keys, but his numb fingers let them fall at his feet. His precious load was becoming heavier by the second but he daredn’t let it slip from his grasp. Scooping the keys from the ground took all the effort he could muster. He pressed one into the lock, twisted it, and the door swung open. 

He stumbled into the pitch-black entrance, felt for the light switch then started to climb the steep staircase to his apartment. One slow step at a time, each of them more difficult than the last. Ten steps to go, nine, eight  …… then the timed light went out. Total darkness. He swore out loud as he tripped then swiftly grabbed the handrail. His arms were giving way, but he wasn’t giving up, not as he was so close.

He reached the summit and stabbed the light switch. He knelt, resting his load on his knee and once again searched for his keys. With all his might he rose to his feet, placed one in the lock and flung open the door.  He triumphantly carried his cherished cargo across the threshold, lowered it to the floor then lay down alongside, totally exhausted but elated.

“Thank you for becoming my wife today,” he said, “but that’s the last time I carry you anywhere!”.

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Word count 250

Thanks to Jenne Gray and C.E.Ayr for hosting The Unicorn Challenge

*I chose to go with the word on the building and stick to locks and keys!

© Ayr/Gray

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“You stink Arthur, what have you been up to?” asked Colin, “I’ve been muck spreading” he replied, “getting the fields ready for this year’s crop”; “hopefully it’ll be a wet summer,” said Ted, ”cos you know what they say – no rain, no grain!”

“How’s your Gran, Ted?” asked Suzie, “she’s okay, instead of lying about her age she brags about it nowadays”; “I was in church with mine on Sunday and she whispered ‘I’ve just let out a silent fart, what should I do?’, so I said ‘get a new battery for your hearing aid!”

“Blimey, they’ve grown”, said Ted, staring inappropriately at Suzies bulging boobies; “I thought you’d be impressed” she replied, “but actually it’s because I’m wearing my new figure-enhancing tit-sling!”

“What’s with the grin, Colin?” asked Babs, “I just remember a joke,” he said, “what did the bra say to the hat? …you go on a head while I give these two a lift!”; “OY, I’ll have no vulgarity in my pub!” yelled Landlord Len.

“Seen the green?” asked Arthur, “there’s a big tent there, what’s that for?”, “they’re holding a Spring flower show”, replied Colin, “my good lady’s taking part, you should see her tulips”; “just wait til you see mine next week”, said Suzie “I’m having lip augmint…augmont…fillers done” – Suzie was somewhat puzzled by the plethora of groans and grunts her announcement received, so she decided against mentioning the bottom-boosting knickers she was thinking of purchasing!

“If I was able to grant you a wish, what would it be?” asked Arthur; “to buy me a pint”, said Ted, “a G&T”, said Babs, “a scotch”, said Colin, “a Singapore Sling”, said Suzie … Arthur wished he hadn’t asked! 

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Thanks to Denise for hosting Six Sentence Stories This week’s word is Grain … to which I’ve added grown, gran, grin, green, groans, grunts and grant!

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers.

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“As if from nowhere, leaves appear; small, delicate, yet bright and cheerful. As they mature they begin to offer protection to those beneath and within. When the days grow shorter a comforting glow embraces them before they fall to the ground, their work done. Just like life, just like us”.

“It wouldn’t surprise me if you dyed your grey hair orange and had your wrinkles spray tanned to give yourself an autumnal look! Now stop prattling on, and get me a cup of tea”.

“Ah, tea leaves, proof that there’s life after death”.

“I said…”

“Yes dear, milk and sugar?”

 

Click a Froggie to see what others have come up with!

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PHOTO PROMPT © Lisa Fox

For Wordless Wednesday and bloghops various!

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I’ve visited quite a few stately homes over the past few years. Here are just a few of them!

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Kingston Lacey, Wimborne Minster, Dorset.

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Nymans, Handcross, West Sussex..

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Uppark,  South Harting,  West Sussex.

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Sissinghurst Castle, Kent, home of author Vita Sackville-West.

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Chartwell, Westerham, Kent. Home of Winston Churchill.

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Hinton Abner, Bramdean, Hampshire. 

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Nostell Priory, Nostell, West Yorkshire.

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Riddlestone Hall,  Keighley, West Yorkshire.

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Biddulph Grange, near Stoke-on-Trent, Staffordshire.

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Kedleston Hall,  Kedleston, Derbyshire.

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Sudbury Hall, Sudbury, Derbyshire.

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Stourhead, Warminster, Wiltshire.

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Petworth House, Petworth, West Sussex.

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Montisfort Abbey, Romsey, Hampshire.

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Batemans, Burwash, East Sussex. Home of Rudyard Kipling. 

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Finally, a very special house which featured in the world’s longest-running TV sitcom. If you are outside the UK you are probably unaware of it, but for us lot its the home of Nora Batty in Last of the Summer Wine!

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I dare you to ring the doorbell!

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Here’s Linky!

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For eight hundred and thirty-seven years, four months, two weeks, six days, five hours and forty-eight minutes I’ve been standing here.

How do I know? Because I’ve nothing better to do than count every boring moment.

I didn’t always look this decrepit. I was a beautiful young thing back in the day. But as Venus di Milo’s boobs were polished and David’s bits and pieces preened, I was left to suffer the ravages of time.

In my prime, I was constantly admired. Artists drew pictures of me. When the camera was invented people started taking photographs. Today some statues take part in selfies. I don’t. Who’d want one with me?

People say very unpleasant things about the condition I’m in. I think very unpleasant things about them in return. Some of them look worn out themselves. The difference is, that whilst they won’t be around much longer, I’ll still be here! A few more bits will drop off no doubt, but I don’t have a lot of use for them anyway.

Sorry if I’ve been ranting on a bit but it’s nice to have someone to communicate with after standing here for eight hundred and thirty-seven years, four months, two weeks, six days, five hours and … let me see … fifty-two minutes

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Thanks to Sadje for hosting What Do You See?

Image credit; Marianna Smiley @ Unsplash “Thrive” by Danial Pooper a sculpture in Fort Lauderdale, Florida.

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‘Stand tight’, hollered boatman Gideon. Hercules, his trusty horse tugged on the rope with all his might, stretching it, then, standing four square waited for the barge to start moving. ‘Forward’ ordered Gideon as he slung the beast’s lead over his shoulder. Once again their daily journey along the canal was under way.

Like his father and his father before him, Gideon transported grain in the timeworn narrow-boat, Marion. In foul weather or fair, on rippling water or still, Gideon went about his work uncomplaining. Through locks, under bridges, along the muddy towpath.

Years passed by and the time came for Gideon to step back and rest his weary body. He never had a wife, a mistress even, so there was no son to pass Marion on to.

After mooring Marion for the last time, he carved his initials and the date on the cabin door. He stroked Hercules. ‘You done well ‘ole fella’ he whispered as his beloved horse was led away.

As Gideon sat on a bench outside The Duck and Swan Inn, tankard in hand, he watched the next generation of boatmen trudging by and reflected on his past. He had been contented but then he’d known nothing else.

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‘How old is she?’ asked a father, ushering his wife and excited kids onto the canal boat.

‘Marion? We are not entirely sure, but she was a working barge until July 1926’,  the captain said, pointing to the cabin door. ‘Make yourselves comfortable and enjoy your trip’.

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© Ayr/Gray

Thanks to Jenne Gray and C.E.Ayr for hosting The Unicorn Challenge