Some Pictures But Not Of Tadpoles.

Strange kind of a day for me. Not really feeling 100% to be honest. Don't know why, just a general bluuuurgh. Can't even describe it as feeling ill. Hope I feel more up to par tomorrow. Hope the sun shines, that usually does the trick.

Despite this malaise, and the rain, my extremely handsome son George persuaded me to go for a walk. We found a pond in the woods and to both our delights it was teeming with tadpoles. EHS wanted to catch some for the small pond here. Not having a net I managed to fashion something from a plastic bag and a forked stick. I'm clever like that. EHS swooped it through the water and managed to catch a good few. We brought them home in a plastic bottle and they are now in my small wildlife pond. That's not a pond for small wildlife, it's a small pond. Not that you could get large wildlife in it because it's too small. The pond that is. Oh dear why do I always feel the need to explain things so carefully? I'm sure you know what I mean anyway. I forgot to take my camera today.

This is a cherry tree. Bird cherry I think it is properly called. Or another name is Gean. The birds love it. I was impressed with the blossom this year so wanted to share it with you. This tree was planted the year EHS was born so it is nearly twenty years old. I have never seen it looking so beautiful. In fact we all agree that up until this year it has been a rather nondescript tree. Not anymore. I hope all this blossom is showing the promise of a good summer.

This is my latest creation, a ramshackle bench. Despite it's look it is surprisingly nice to sit on. It is mostly made from the Hazel branches I coppiced in the winter.

EHS George was the first to try it. He's a brave lad.

There are screws holding it together and then the twine for extra strength.

Bonnie likes the bench

She did a bit of posing.

But then she'd had enough of being photographed.

I hope you are well. I will be back soon.

Bank Holiday Monday. Warning: Sex Is Mentioned.

The sun came out yesterday, which took most people by surprise because it was a bank holiday and nice weather doesn't happen on bank holidays. Not in England. It was hot too. This was an added bonus. We don't have hot weather. Not on a bank holiday. Not in England. The nice weather had been forecast, but nobody believed it would happen. That's why it was such a surprise. We don't tend to believe the weather forecast. Not unless it says it is going to be cold and wet. Then we believe it. Because then we know there is a 99% chance of it being true.

Anyway, being as it was a bank holiday I set myself for a long lie in. Never much reason to get up early what with it being a bank holiday Monday and all. So you can imagine my surprise when on awakening I was nearly blinded by the brightness of the day. The sun! The sun is out! Well that changed my plans I can tell you. No way I'm wasting a day like this laying in bed. So I quickly got up and let the air out of my blow up girlfriend. Sorry darling to let you down like this, but look the sun is out. Hey! No need to look so deflated. I tried to let her down gently. Now listen she may be only a blow up doll but I have developed feelings for her. Mainly of exhaustion from blowing her up. I need to get a pump. That way I might still have some energy left for....

Outside it was so hot that I took my shirt off. There wasn't anyone around except Sadie the German Shepherd and she didn't seem to mind. As long as there are no mirrors to unexpectedly catch sight of myself in, I am quite happy with my body. Out of sight out of mind. If I keep still that is. The truth always dawns when I move, and things start to wobble about. It's horrendous! Some people, and I'm one of them, should keep their bodies covered.

I started growing breasts, or man boobs, or lately known as moobs when I was forty five years old. About the same age as I reached puberty according to my wife! My once slender waistline is now hidden under a layer of lard and my flat stomach and backside soon went the same way. Incidentally, my bottom was once so firm and perfect that my mother once described it as, "looking like two eggs in a hankie". At first I tried to stop these things happening, but to be honest, in the end I just gave up the fight and accepted the inevitable.

So where once I was able to attract the ladies by virtue of my looks alone, nowadays I have to resort to wit and charm. I am also blessed that the knowledge of my abilities as a lover go before me. Some things never leave a man. It's a bit like riding a bike. Only a little bit. The movements are different, and I sit down to ride my bike, 'cept when I'm going up hill. OK then, there are similarities.

As I say it was a beautiful bank holiday Monday. Today though it is raining again. This will explain why I'm sitting here writing this nonsense. Apart from the bit about my lovemaking prowess, that isn't nonsense, that is true, and I shall keep on doing my best to prove it!

A Momentous Decision Comes To Nothing.

Today, or this afternoon rather I made the momentous decision to publish my book wot I rote, as an Ebook. This decision was based purely on the fact that I could die tomorrow. Not that I'm ill or expecting to be knocked down by a large bus. No nothing like that. Or a small bus even. Or a taxi. Or a car. Nothing like that. No I'm just pointing out that we never know for sure what tomorrow has in store for us. No, what I meant to convey in the second sentence up there. Oh I was going to put an arrow pointing upwards but there isn't one on the keyboard. This symbol ^ doesn't quite do it for me, but I suppose it will have to do. Anyway what I meant to convey by writing that second sentence up there ^ was that I ain't getting any younger.Which is of course stating the bleedin' obvious. Actually it wasn't this afternoon. Not to be pedantic but it was early evening when I made the momentous decision to publish my book as an E book. Sorry about that. It was a bit pedantic after all. A lot pedantic in fact.

My friend Jackie who - oh now Sadie the German Shepherd wants to go out. Excuse me for a moment - Here I am, sorry about that I think she heard a fox. Not Jackie, she didn't hear a fox, I was talking about Sadie, the German Shepherd. Jackie is my friend who proof read my book. Poor Jackie, what a task it was. I am ashamed to admit that my grammar and punctuation required a lot of help. Not only that but she had to ask Bob her husband what some of the words meant! Don't get me wrong, Jackie ain't stupid. She is very literate. It's just that some of the naughtier words and expressions I use in the book were rather alien to her. Anyway she finally completed the job. And really I think she should be grateful to me for increasing her vocabulary!

So I now have a memory stick with my nicely proofread book on it. The problem I now have is, how to get it from the memory stick and onto this computer. Yes I know what you are thinking, and yes I am incredibly thick when it comes to computers.

That is only one of my problems. Another one is formatting. Smashwords the Ebook site I signed up to, have a download thing about how to format a book. So I downloaded it. God knows where to. I can't find it. Trouble is in my download bit there are hundreds of 'useful' files that I have downloaded at one time or another and they all seem to have numbers instead of words to describe them. I ain't ploughing through that lot!

Cover design (maybe) for my book, Elbows Off The Table. (copyright)

The reason I chose Smashwords to publish with, apart from Jackie sending me a link, was because when I clicked on their link it quite clearly stated: You are only minutes away from publishing your book. This dear readers is a blatant lie! I am in fact as things stand at present, no nearer publishing my book than I was when I made the momentous decision to publish earlier this evening.

I need help. I admit it. Or this book ain't going to see the light of day. Such a shame really because it could, listen to me could, will, that's better, become a best seller. There are loads of rude words in it and sex things. Ask Jackie if you don't believe me. She had to lie down with a wet flannel over her head every time she looked at it!

So I am hoping against hope that I don't die tomorrow, because I need time to get this all sorted. -excuse me while I let the dog back in. If anyone would like to offer me some technical support I would be very grateful. Just bear in mind that I don't have any money.

I am staying away from buses for a while. That's for certain. Hopefully!

Nice Things Have Happened.

Nice things have been happening these last few days. The most pleasing was today when my extremely handsome son George came home and told me he had just passed the course he has been working hard at. I am pleased to tell the world that he is now an FA level two football coach. For those who may not know, the FA stands for Football Association. I am so proud of my son. But you knew that already.

What else has made me happy lately? Oh yes, I sold the hen house I made from reclaimed materials and there is interest in the one I finished making at the weekend. This latest creation is built onto an old wheelbarrow. Keeping a few hens in the back garden is becoming very popular. I need to find a new source of old timber.

Sadie the German Shepherd checks out the egg stealing potential.

The ride on lawn mower broke down yet again. Not really surprising. Things are always going wrong with it. I was given it secondhand years ago when my friend Nicko got a new one. Apart from all the hassles it has served me well really. But this latest breakdown had me thinking the end had come for it. For a while I thought about buying a new one. But then I decided to have a go at fixing it myself. I am not very good at mechanical things, even though I love engines, but I thought there might be a problem with the carburettor. Anyway I stripped it down, cleaned it and by some miracle managed to put back together again. And the lawn mower began to work again! Hooray! That was a nice thing. Funny how happy making an old lawn mower work has made me.

Sometimes I let EHS George have a go at  driving it.

This computer suddenly stopped working a few days ago. I took it to be repaired. The man couldn't find anything wrong with it, but told me he thought it was something I plugged into it. I brought it back home and sure enough it was the monitor. I changed it and hey presto success! And he never even charged me. What a decent bloke, and what a nice thing to happen.

I changed the monitor screen and all was well.

Do you remember I told you I had my motor insurance policy cancelled after two days and they charged me £71? Well I got in touch with the financial ombudsman straight away, and lo and behold a few days later got my money refunded. As you can imagine I was happy about that.

This evening Tricia treated me to a Burger King Whopper meal. I like the occasional hamburger. Why is it called a hamburger when it is made from beef? It was very nice and as I was hungry I was happy to eat it.

I hope nice things are happening for you too and that you are happy.

Mr Patterson.

Mr Patterson was sitting in the park on the bench that is nearest to the village hall. It has been a while since I last saw him so I said hello and sat beside him. He was eating what I assumed since it was indeed lunchtime, was his lunch, a bag of chips.

"Hallo Mr Patterson," I said, "how's things with you?

He chomped on a mouthful of chips, chewing rapidly in the way that people do when they don't want to speak with their mouth full. Then he swallowed in that gulping way that people do when they are keen not to leave answering for too long in case they appear rude. Unfortunately his swallow wasn't quite effective enough and as he answered he spat out a mangled chip, which Sadie the German Shepherd was quick to clear up. "UUUhhhhnnkweeeweehheeell," he answered, using the forefinger of his right hand to capture a dribble of saliva from his chin and direct it back into his mouth. He then crumpled the chip bag into a ball and tossed it, without too much effort at marksmanship in the direction of the litter bin at the end of the bench, where it missed it's target and fell onto the grass. Sadie then tore the bag into shreds as she searched for even the tiniest morsel left in the bag. Mr Patterson fished in his jacket pocket and took out a large linen handkerchief with which he wiped his mouth and hands, "I'm well thank you," he finally managed to inform me, and smiled shyly. Shyly because he is a very shy man indeed.

Mr Patterson, who I would think is in his late forties early fifties, lives with his aged parents on a smallholding locally. He is employed by his parents to help on the smallholding, but his main interest in life is engineering. Old engines in particular, which he takes apart and puts back together again.

"Are you working on any old engines just now?" I ask him, by way of getting a conversation going.

"Not at present John," he answers much to my surprise, because Mr Patterson is always working on one engine or another. "To tell the truth," he goes on, "I'm far too busy with my girlfriend these days."

This news is another surprise to me. Mr Patterson has a girlfriend? Mr Patterson has never to my knowledge had a girlfriend before. He has certainly not in all the years I have known him mentioned a girlfriend to me. I am intrigued but decide not to pursue the matter, believing that his having a girlfriend is a private matter and it would be wrong of me to probe too deeply.

However, any curiousity I might have regarding the intensely shy Mr Patterson's girlfriend is quickly satisfied as he proceeds to tell me all about her. He is totally smitten. It's my girlfriend this, and my girlfriend that. She said this, she said that. I actually, rather than being pleased for Mr Patterson begin to feel sorry for him. The more he talks about her, the more obvious it seems to me that he is being totally controlled by her. Poor Mr Patterson he is so in love

Unbelievably it turns out that he hasn't even met the woman. She is someone he talks to on the internet. She comes from one of the Eastern Europe countries. Latvia or Lithuania I think he said. Blimey, I think to myself, if he's already this much under the thumb what's it going to be like when she finally gets to meet him in the flesh?

As we say goodbye I wish him well for the future. I hope he will be happy, I truly do. A thought suddenly occurs to me: I wonder what she calls him? I have known him for twenty something years and I still don't know his first name. I have only ever known him and addressed him as Mr Patterson, because when we first met I told him my name was John and asked what his was, he told me, "I'm Mr Patterson."

He is a very old fashioned man is Mr Patterson. I hope he manages all right in the real world. I hope his engineering skills are up to the job if things break down.

A Bit Of Insurance Against Beige Stuff.

I got ripped off by my motor insurers today. That's what it feels like to me anyway. The new policy I took out was cancelled two days later. They said even though I'm retired I am an artist and I might use the vehicle to go to the shops and buy art materials. therefore I should have a business policy. They don't do business policies though, so they cancelled. But get this everyone, they charged me £71 cancellation fee! Not only that but the rest of my money won't be back in my account for three to five days, and I can't afford to take out another policy until it is. Not only that but they kept me hanging on the phone for more than half an hour on an 0845 number while they 'sorted' it all out. Probably cost twenty quid for the phone call too. This insurance company is called Adrian Flux. They certainly got me in a bit of a flux I can tell you. Adrian Flux sucks! They should be called Adrian Fux! I really think they should make all their checks before they take the money off their customers. The whole thing stinks of a scam. I was bloody furious this morning. They took the shine off my happiness at being the owner of a 'new' Volkswagen campervan. Not for long though. It is a beautiful vehicle and once I get it properly insured I am looking forward to some trips out with Sadie the German Shepherd. I phoned up the ombudsman and they were straight on to this case. He was actually composing the letter to the insurance company as I spoke to him. I will get my money back I'm pretty sure about that. I am a member of a large VW club with many members, and a good deal of them will not be dealing with Adrain Fux. I misspelt Adrian then. It wasn't deliberate, but how appropriate. A drain fux. Anyway that's enough of that. I have calmed down a bit now. I don't like being angry. Not good for the soul.

Here are a couple of photo's of my camper. Beautiful ain't she? She? Hey, anything this gorgeous has to be female!

Roof up.

Roof down.

In town the other day it suddenly struck me why old men look old. It is because of the clothes they wear. Particularly the coats. They always seem to wear beige or tan coloured stuff. I am staying well away from those colours. They definitely make men look old. Look why, just because you are getting on a bit, should you start wearing boring colours? For goodness sake get some colour back into your life. What's wrong with red yellow or blue. Brighten up you old guys, it will take years off you. Not only that but ladies will start to take an interest in you again. Take me for instance, women are always approaching me and asking for my phone number. I am inundated with them. I have had to start turning some of them away. I tell you what I'll do. If you promise to wear more colourful attire I shall send some of these women your way. Yes I know I'm being generous but we men should stick together. Of course I do realise that it isn't only my bright clothes that attract them, I happen to be blessed with extreme good looks and charisma too. Not many men have these attributes, you probably don't. But get brightened up. It will help. I promise you that.
Ditch the beige OK?

Adult Magazines?

I popped in to see my mate Nigel yesterday. As I got there he was coming down his garden path carrying a load of magazines.
"All right Nige," I said, "what you got there mate?"
"All right John boy," he answered, "I'm having a bit of a clear out, and I'm getting rid of me dirty magazine collection."
"What you gonna do with 'em Nige?" I says.
"I'm gonna chuck 'em in the recycling," he says watching me closely before adding, "unless you want 'em?"

Anyway the upshot is that I now own a big pile of adult content magazines. My intention is to try and sell them on Ebay. I heard somewhere that there is a big market for these sort of magazines.

I have had a good long close inspection quick browse through, and some of them are what might be described as vintage, At least that is how I am going to describe them in my advert.

It was raining today so for want of anything better to do I began cataloguing them. Very tiring work indeed. I had to go and have a lay down several times. I'm not as young as I was.

I haven't told Nigel that I intend to sell them. He might ask for them back. By the way his real name is not Nigel. I changed his name just in case he doesn't want to be mentioned. You know, what with him being the local Vicar and the type of magazines they are and all. His real name is Norman.

Miss White

In my last post I told you how one of the new hens namely Miss White looked very much to actually be a cockerel. In fact so convinced were we all that we had decided he would have to be returned to where she had come from.

Well blow me down with a feather! The very next morning when I let them out of the hen house, to my astonishment. Mr Christian Grey immediately jumped on whom we supposed to be a young cockerel Mr White and gave him a jolly good rogering! Good grief I thought, 'Mr Christian Grey is a homosexual'. Not that there is anything wrong with that he hastens to add.

After that the young Mr White disappeared and I presumed he had gone off to recover from the traumatic situation he had just found himself in. But no! He had not. I found him sitting in the nest box where to my further astonishment he laid an egg!

Forgive me my dear Miss White. You are quite obviously a female and I hope you will have a happy life here. Mind you, you do look very male. It was an easy mistake to make. What a good job you laid an egg.



We had the local elections last Thursday, and Tricia was standing as a candidate. The count was on Friday and I went with her to lend my support. It was actually quite exciting watching the vote counters. The pile of votes for Tricia was neck and neck with her nearest rival. In the end she didn't win the seat on the council, but my goodness it was close. She came second having taken almost half the votes cast. This was remarkable and it was the same story across the country. UKIP, the United Kingdom Independence Party is very new but it has given all three of the regular parties something to think about.

Tricia smiling magnanimously at the winner.

Not allowed to take photo's of the count going on, but I sneaked this one.

But this blog isn't about politics so I shall leave it there, except to say how proud I am of Tricia. If she's not careful, the way things are going, she could well become an MP at the next general election!



It has been a busy day. I am in the process of making another hen house to sell. Again out of reclaimed timber. It isn't really work because I enjoy it so much.
My extremely handsome son George and I had a bit of a clear up this evening, and we had a bonfire. First of all making sure there were no wild creatures in danger. I love having a bonfire. Here are some pictures of  extremely handsome George doing most of the work!

George taking a slow worm to safety.

I hope you all enjoyed a nice long weekend too.

A Bit Of A Cock Up On The Hen Front.

Mr Christian Grey the cockerel is happy again. He has some new wives. Here they are. They are Miss White, Miss Brown, and Miss Grey (no relation). All very young and pretty young point of lay chickens. Mr Christian Grey is going to be very busy just as soon as he learns how to woo them.

Miss Grey (no relation) is the most dominant of the three new girls. Miss Brown is a bit more laid back but doesn't stand for too much nonsense. Miss White is very flighty and nervous. They all seem to be settling in quite nicely to their new home.

But there is a problem. Extremely handsome son George spotted it straight away. Take another look at Miss White. What do you see? Notice anything amiss?

Miss White is not a hen. Yes that's right, Miss white looks suspiciously like a Mr White. Miss White is a cockerel!

It was Tricia who chose the white one. To be fair she/he was in a pen that was supposed to be all hens, and even I, the hen expert failed to notice.  They cost fifteen quid each. Whitey will have to be returned and exchanged for a hen. Well we can't risk Mr Grey's reputation. I believe him to be a straight male although I have to say I have not noticed him taking too much interest in the ladies. But he is a young cock, and sometimes they take a while to get going. I hope he is not gay. Not that there is anything wrong with being gay, he adds hastily. But I am hoping for some chicks to be hatched this year.

How Miss Grey (no relation) and Miss Brown will take to another new hen remains to be seen. Don't feel too sorry for Whitey, after all he is going back to a whole flock of females!

I shall keep you posted.

Here some pictures of a hen house I have just finished making. It is made entirely from reclaimed timber, I have made this one to sell.

An old toilet seat makes a useful pop hole.

Yes that is a toilet seat. I don't know how I think of these things.

                                                                                                             John.