Has anybody seen my brown shoes?
I want to go out into the street,
And I need something to put on my feet,
Has anybody seen my brown shoes?
Has anybody seen my brown shoes?
August 12th, 2009The flight of the funkypancake
August 12th, 2009An idea tossed into the air
Gathered momentum,
With spring spurred action,
Test flight looked good,
Filling on form,
Inspection passed,
Bright eyed and open mouthed
The family assembled,
All systems go,
Out of the frying pan
Into the heat
Of the Antipodean summer.
For my funkypancake friend and his family who will know what this is all about.
Rare evenings
August 11th, 2009These are rare evenings.
It’s still, and I’m sat outside the pub
In shorts and shirt sleeves.
The trees are motionless but
Swallows soar and swoop,
Busying themselves,
Though I suspect
Most insects have gone to bed.
I can hear more birds
Talking in the trees.
A murmur emanates from within
And the lights have come on outside
But there is plenty time before the dark dark.
A hairless non stop talker recounts his life
As a musician to a red faced resident,
Listening for the price of a pint.
Cars pass by on the road outside the pub
And occasionally one pulls in.
A Land Rover that leaves its boot open
To cool the dog inside, presumably.
A man leans against his van,
Doesn’t want a drink
But talks on his mobile phone.
The blue sky deepens
A contrast cut
By the occasional cloud, white.
Through the window diners dine
And drinkers cluster round the bar.
The red face drives home!
Geese flypast and land.
Dear Bear
August 9th, 2009Dear Bear/Mr Grylls (delete as you consider appropriate)
The 18th Lincoln (Bailgate) Scout Group is celebrating its 90th anniversary next year on the 12th and 13th of December. It was either rather a long delivery or it happened exactly on the stroke of midnight and they couldn’t make their mind up which day it actually was (delete as you consider appropriate).
Seeing as you are now our Chief Scout/intrepid adventurer/all round good guy (delete etc…) we would be thrilled if you could come along to help us celebrate/unveil plaque/launch new canoe (etc). The latter is because we are Sea Scouts here at Bailgate 18th. Dunno if you ever had any nautical adventures?!
I don’t actually know how we will be celebrating at this time because I think I might have missed that particular committee meeting but I’m sure it will be good. Probably light a campfire and sing songs and so on. You know the form.
So if you could come then that would be great. That weekend is just after my own birthday so perhaps we could make it a double celebration. I’m not ninety though! If you can’t make it that weekend then some other time in 2010 would also be great. We will fit around you so no excuses really eh? 🙂 Just let us know when.
Yours Sincerely
Tref (age 47 1/2 )
the hot air balloon
August 8th, 2009still life
there it hung, motionless,
in suspended animation way beyond the back garden fence.
it looked like a ladybird,
red with black spots, though they might have been blue,
I couldn’t really tell from a distance.
it appeared as the evening settled down,
still light, though the trees had started to look like cut outs.
I expected it to come closer,
because of the direction of the wind,
but it seemed to be going further away.
then I realised it was probably landing.
it began to sink slowly
leaving me to guess exactly where it went down,
disappearing out of sight.
I put a log on the barbecue
turning it into a firepit and providing an alternative distraction.
The metamorphosis of Miss Joanne Smith
August 7th, 2009Girls they change, don’t ask me how,
No ask me,
They get an inner glow,
A beauty that transcends beauty,
Succoured by expectation.
Signatures they practice, flourishes that match
A new style,
Brought about by change,
Lifting life to a new high,
Moving on apace.
A suitable proposition, a satisfied Miss Smith,
Happiness in the shape of Mrs Duckworth.
The 2009 version of the quintessentially English summer’s afternoon
July 31st, 2009The lawn has been mowed and I finally managed to get the tent back into its bag after last year’s camping holiday. The detritus from this year’s holiday is now more or less stowed in various appropriate (and some inappropriate) cubbyholes. The birdseed holders have been refilled. The children are busying themselves elsewhere in the house, quietly. They are playing an interactive game with a friend over the internet. I have made enormous progress with my jobs list. The third Ashes Test match at Edgebaston is on Test Match Special on iPlayer. I’m also following it on www.cricinfo.com. The Aussies have just been bowled out for 263 in their first innings. I’ve just had a second cup of tea. Later we are going to the cricket club for the lads to have some time in the nets. Afterwards we will probably have a beer (lemonade) in the clubhouse and watch the game. Curry is on the menu for tonight. I’m still on holiday.
All is well with the world.
Isle of Man Day 10
July 29th, 2009Early up and the weather at first glance looks good for traveling. This was somewhat deceptive as we were later to find out. A slow journey to Douglas behind a driver unaware that she was allowed to travel faster than 25 mph was compensated for by the fact that because we were towing a trailer we were second onto the boat and second in line to get off. Yo!
The “Snaefell” was a lot more cramped than the Mannanan that brought us to the island. Still we settled into our reserved seats and ate our croissants, baked by my fair hands shortly before leaving the house. What a pro!
Now every person in our family has something to contribute. Specifically at sea it is Joseph who is a bellweather for rough times ahead and promptly chundered into a well placed sick bag taken from the back of the seat in front of him.
It was not long before he was joined by a chorus of small children from the seats around us with a smattering of adults thrown in to provide harmony in the lower octaves. The sweet smell of vomit began to waft across the cabin…
Isle of Man Day 9
July 29th, 2009Back to it’s wet and windy ways, the Isle of Man drove us into Douglas again for a spin on the horse trams.
We arrived almost and hour before the first horse so we “did” Strand Street for the third time. Once along Strand Street is too many times. I can’t understand why people would bother.
Finally the tram. At £12 for the family to go one way along the prom the horse trams were seemingly making an enormous contribution to the Manx economy. I drove to the other end and picked the others up, more due to pressure of time than anything else but assisted by the cost.
Lunch was at Green’s vegetarian restaurant at the Steam Railway Station at the end of the harbour. My old mate Crell and his lovely wife Renate proved pleasant company surrounded by railway memorabilia. A passer by was flagged down to take the obligatory team photo and we said our farewells vowing not to leave it another ten years.
Back in Peel we caught no fish again and finished off with the tour of Moore’s kipper factory, “the only remaining traditional kipper curers”. Interesting enough though I did leave the tour feeling somewhat smoky eyed. Also found out the source of the saying “on tenterhooks”.
Isle of Man Day 8
July 27th, 2009Stop press. Day 8 and it’s a result. At long last our first basking shark sightings, just two or three hundred metres off the breakwater. I tried to get some photographs but some analysis on the laptop is required before I can confirm that I have the hard evidence. The photos just looked like lots of pictures of waves when I looked at them on the camera. The sharks were definately there though.
The rest of today is all planned out, for me at least. This afternoon it is golf with dad in one of the Peel Golf Week competitions followed by a team dinner out with the Shimmins, Kellys and Fletchers at Coasters in Douglas.
Isle of Man Day 7
July 27th, 2009A wet and windy start to the day keeps the crowds at bay. No fishers at the end of the quay and indeed we conclude that they are right and elect to shark watch instead. Still no sharks to see though, despite the admission from a friendly tourist that they had seen fifteen from the Foillan Beg excursion boat yesterday.
In fact at this early stage of the day there are few people around although the presence of around ten cars is somewhat puzzling. The answer lies in the lifeboat house as the tractor trundles out to the end of the ramp and some lifeboatmen distribute rubber batons down to the water. The lifeboat is about to return!
Joe and I move to a vantage point atop the breakwater and keep lookout. There are no boats in sight. Anywhere!
Then I see a small dot on the horizon. Just a bow wave at first, but gradually growing to be discernible as a lifeboat. The boat rounds into the shelter of the harbour, drops four crew members off at the steps and then begins the process of being hauled out of the water. It is all exciting stuff for a landlubber and takes probably an hour or so, including the washing down and cleaning.
By this time the quay has become crowded and the sun has broken through. It is set up nicely for our afternoon of gorge climbing.
Ballaglass Glen is the scene for this. A beautiful walk down with a tree canopy above keeping the sun from ever penetrating to the water itself. The scene might be a tropical jungle as dripping mosses mix with tall ferns, fallen trees and the river roaring over the rocks below.
We climb down into the water and begin our upwards journey through the rockpools and raging torrents fuelled by last night’s rain. Two hours later, soaked, scratched and bruised but satisfied we emerge through the trees to the carpark.
Isle of Man Day 6
July 26th, 2009The annual Southern Agricultural Society show is held at Great Meadow near Castletown. A perfect sunny day set the ideal stage for a day out at the show. It’s a great family day out.
Horses, great brutes of bulls, cows, uncooperative sheep, yapping show dogs, poultry, rabbits, lawnmowers, fridges, picnic tables, cess pits, smoothie makers, cookery displays, vintages tractors and agricultural machinery (including baling machines), beehives, chairoplanes, bouncy castles, slides, Isle of Man Bank, Department of Agriculture and Fisheries, WI Refreshment tent, cars, Recruitment Consultants, ice cream vans, burger bars, milking machines, smoothies, potatoes, dahlias, onions, green beans, marrows, roses, apple pies, fence posts, quilting, rhubarb, radish, beetroot, raspberries, blackcurrant, gooseberries, cauliflower, strawberries, cabbages, lettuce, carrots, coconut shy, straw hat, picnic, brass band, car park queues.
Later, Great Union Camera Obscura followed by a spin to the breakwater in Peel. The Seacat is in on a day trip from Belfast. We enjoy a cold beer outside the Creek Inn followed by a meal outside in the garden back at the house.
Isle of Man day 5
July 26th, 2009A lovely summer’s day which considering that we were off on a trip on the Manx Electric Railway was somewhat of an anomaly. I have years of family photos taken in front of the MER station building in Laxey clad in waterproofs and huddling together for warmth.
Today was different. The sun shone benevolently, bringing satisfied smiles to our faces as we gazed up blindly, eyes closed, taking in the heat. It was only Joe and I, the others preferring retail therapy to trains.
The MER is somewhat of a pilgrimage for me. At the tender age of eighteen I found employment there for the summer holidays before fleeing the coop and heading off to university.
Every year I bring up the same old stories and point out the same old stagers who were there when I was a conductor. They wouldn’t remember me, if nothing else because time has changed my shape, but also as I was only there for the one season, a fleeting eight or ten weeks.
The money was great but at the end of the summer I had saved nothing and ended up finding a low paid labouring job on the Highway Board for a month to try and amass some cash.
Anyway we made our memory filled way to Laxey and alighted for a wander round. I bought an Isle of Man teatowel in the souvenir shop on the way to the big wheel. Then we had an early lunch at Browns Teashop on Ham and Egg Terrace. Browns has a very good reputation but now milks this with high prices. The original owners moved on some time ago.
We caught the 12.25 back to Douglas sitting on the outside carriage so that we could take photos en route. I always tell the story of how one day I was conducting on Number 1 with Gordon as driver. Number 1 is the oldest functioning electric tram in the word. On this occasion we only had a couple of passengers and we hatched a plan for lunch.
Gordon made the 30 minute journey to Douglas in only fifteen. We then stopped the tram about half a mile short of the terminus and just around the bend where we could not be seen. I then ran in to the Port Jack Chippy and bought a couple of fish and chips. The tram made it in exactly on time and we ate our lunch in the depot with the same element of excitement as under age drinkers. Beer never tasted the same after my eighteenth birthday. Happy days.
Isle of Man Day 4
July 23rd, 2009The classic British summer holiday starts to gain momentum as the weather improves, albeit probably temporarily. A good night’s sleep after yesterday’s coastal path walk, followed by a hearty bacon and egg for breakfast set us up for the day.
The weather was perfect for flying our new kite. It failed to get airborne. We need some professional advice on this subject and there is none to hand. Hmm.
The weather was also perfect for fishing of the end of the quay. We caught no fish, although we were not alone in this predicament. For some of us this is not as disappointing as it may sound. Catching a fish means getting hands cove red in fish bits. For me the pleasure is in standing in a pleasant place in the sunshine periodically casting the lure and reeling it in.
The rest of the family eventually joined us and Tom and John eventually set off to the other end of the prom to play tennis. In the meantime the bridge opened and we saw a steady stream of yachts sailing in and out of the harbour. This is such a relaxing sight. We waved, or at least I did, and had a reasonable response rate. As they got beyond the quay the boats raised their sails and started tacking into the South Westerly, whither bound I know not. Ireland or Wales.
Next we took the fishing net to the rock pools by the castle. There were tiddlers on show but we didn’t catch one. The point of the activity is to stand there looking into the pools to see what we could see. To say we had been “rock pooling”.
Round at the beach we got out the picnic and tucked in to our sandwiches. Paddling was obligatory though the weather was not quite right for lying on the beach all day with the occasional cooling swim. Actually the water is cold.
Setting off for part two we went to Onchan Park where the usual go-karting, motorboating, remote controlled boats, crazy golf, play park and ice creams filled the afternoon and gave us a healthy tan.
As we finished the boat set out from Douglas harbour bound for Heysham by all appearances.
Isle of Man Day 3
July 22nd, 2009Intrepid, adventurous, brave. All words used to describe the Davies gang on holiday. Today we walked up Peel Hill and carried on along the coastal path to Glen Maye.
An element of subterfuge was involved here. We stopped frequently on the way to the top of the hill. Mainly for me to catch my breath but also ostensibly for the kids. Stops involved the frequent distribution of energy giving sugary sweets, a flashback to my own childhood where my father would find packets of fruit pastilles left by the fairies behind rocks to keep me going on my way up Cader Idris, the mountain that towered over our home in Dolgellau.
The weather deteriorated on the way up Peel Hill, having lulled us into a false sense of security at lunchtime. We all had decent waterproofs so the rain, only persistent and not lashing, did not really trouble us and having reached the initial objective of Corrin’s folly, we stopped to assess the situation.
There was an moment where the defeatist faction, naming no names, wanted to return to Peel but the rest galvanized Hannah who led the “let’s keep going” movement and we continued south, assisted by the fact that it was all downhill.
The walk was a lot longer than anyone had bargained for. We traversed treacherous cliff-tops which, had the wind been stronger, would not have made sense, skirted a field with a bull in it, had our bare legs attacked by nettles, gorse and brambles, climbed stiles and were constantly on the lookout for basking sharks in the sea below.
In the wilderness beyond Peel we met nobody. The coastal path itself seemed hardly a regular route. Not a beaten path. On one occasion I heard a cacophony of seagulls. Looking up I saw a flock trying to scare off a kestrel which ignored them and dropped in on an unseen prey.
The weather turned out to be near perfect. Typically, I had forgotten the map so our destination, Glen Maye, was always around the next bend. Finally we arrived at Glen Maye beach. Luxuriously empty.
We skimmed flat stones across the waves, leapt from slippery stepping stone to slippery stepping stone and spread ourselves out to dry in the sun. After an appropriate pause we set off for the pub at the top of the glen where we met Tadcu who had come to take our weary limbs home.