If you feel Lucky,
Head down the strip
For some mainstream chow,
Mein on the menu,
Though not by chance
Is this a numbers game,
But you don’t have to gamble
Whilst old favourites are there,
And hunger is the spur,
You’d be prawn crackers not to,
Thirty two, twenty seven,
Beef curry, fried rice please.
photo by Andy Benn
Attention!
Passers by please note,
Entry is now free
And the café is open
Six days a week.
First timers
Are very clearly
Welcome.
Report to reception
Upon arrival
For guidance with your
Visit.
Tobacco
Confectionery
Chilled drinks, snacks
All at McColls
Groceries,
Fresh food
Bread and cakes,
All at McColls
Top-ups
Lottery
Newspapers, mags
All at McColls
photo by Andy Benn
Number 10,
Few crumbs
Of bodily comforts
Though the starving soul
May seek solace
Inside
These whitewashed walls.
Food for the brain,
Food for thought
& food accepted gratefully.
Ploughboy, public house, for the consumption of beer, in public, also available for private parties such as christenings, weddings and eventually funerals, care for cribbage, do you do dominos, fill up, filip, darts, dunno, purity of heart, service at the core, beer at sensible prices, who could ask for more? friendship, amity, camaraderie, mates,double scotch, if you please, at happy hour rates.
photo by Andy Benn
Snack!
A clear breach,
Of the trades descriptions act,
When full blown portions,
Are the hallmark,
Of standard fare,
No nonsense,
Quality food,
For the morning after,
The night before.
Freshly made batter,
Food for a God,
Deep fried fritters,
Haddock, plaice and cod.
Sausages and scrumps,
Salt and (malt) vinegar,
Pickled eggs and gravy,
Fish cakes are a winner,
Baked beans, scampi,
Ketchup, tartare sauce,
Donner kebab if you like,
And lastly chips of course.
photo by Andy Benn
2 4 10
5 till 12
01522
511
777
Call to order,
Pick up or home delivery.
photo by Andy Benn
Bread,
Staff of life,
Crusty white,
Granary, wholemeal,
Sliced or slice it yourself,
Spread thickly with
Creamy English butter,
And jam to taste,
Or liberal helpings
Of smoked salmon,
Ham or cheese with chutney.
You won’t go hungry here.
photo by Andy Benn
It’s one of those idyllic “why would anyone want to be anywhere else” days in May. The back garden is starting to bloom and the sound of birdsong is all around. The lawn has been mown and the hammock is up for the first time this season.
Upstairs the two older offspring are revising for forthcoming examinations, voluntarily and without parental pressure! The other two are in Sunday School with their mother making for a peaceful morning.
Cricket has unfortunately been cancelled as Bracebridge Heath Under 9s have failed to raise a side. It would have been a perfect day for it sat on the boundary sipping a coffee and reading the Sunday papers.
A small plane buzzes across the sky leaving no trail, the sound remaining for a short while after it has disappeared from sight. Leaves flutter in the gentle wind.
The jobs list has been quickly finished and the car retrieved from Burton Road where it was left after a quick post golf drink turned into several. I am now sat in the conservatory with the doors open with a cup of green tea sourced from the shop on Steep Hill. Outside in the garden it is too bright to type. All is well.
I’m looking out of the window. It’s a bright, blustery day. The branches of the trees are swaying, and the birds are being blown about. The scudding clouds are casting fleeting shadows over the landscaped lawns. The grass was cut last week, but the dandelions, buttercups, and daisies are already back and moving in waves with every gust of wind. The road beyond the car park is full of cars coming and going. Everything’s moving, big and small. Except me. I’m just sitting here watching.
My Lovely Mum,
Your food is scrum,
Your huncles are warm,
You do the housework as quick as a storm,
You buy me presents,
But don’t shoot pheasants.
From John. firstpharmacyuk
