Little Arrows.

She was standing by the gate at the bottom of my driveway being held at bay by my German Shepherd Sadie. ”Can I help you?” I asked, struggling to hold the dog back and speaking loudly trying to make myself heard above the excited barking.

The woman smiled nervously at the dog and said something I couldn’t hear.

“Be quiet Sadie!” I shouted, “ I will just put the dog on the chain,” I added, taking Sadie by the collar and dragging her up the drive, “won’t be a sec.”

When I returned she was standing inside the gate waiting. She was very attractive,  dressed in a well tailored light blue suit accentuating her perfect figure. Her auburn hair was shoulder length and shone with healthy vitality in the early springtime sun. Her hazel eyes smouldered as she looked at me and my heart melted. I greeted her warmly smiling, ”Good morning. What a lovely day,” I said.

She smiled at me, her luscious lips parting to reveal perfect teeth. “Good morning,” she replied and at the sound of her soft gentle voice my knee’s turned to jelly.

“How can I help you?” I squeaked.

“My name is Ruth,” she said, her voice a gentle purr. “I’m from the council planning department. We have received a complaint.”

Those words quickly knocked me from my pathetic lovelorn stupor, “I am not prepared to talk to you at this time,” I told her as I escorted her back down the drive to the gate. It was the end of the quickest love affair in history. Although I have to say that as I watched her walk away I couldn’t help noticing how her high heeled shoes accentuated her perfect calves!

And that my friends was the day my troubles with the council began.

Facebook Failure.

I have failed in my facebook de-activation. Failed in my attempt to wean myself off it. I am a miserable, hopeless, facebook addicted disgrace. No willpower whatsoever. Useless that’s me.

I should be ashamed of myself, but I’m not. Because I like being on facebook. Those few days I was off it I found I missed my friends. This is 2015. It is the new age. I have embraced it. I am not dead yet. I am up with the kids. Yay!

I have even got a new phone, and with it I can be on facebook wherever I am in the world – okay that is mostly within a radius of ten miles from home – but you know what I mean?

I can write this blog on my phone. I can send and receive emails. Get on the web – I think it’s called? Take photos too. It’s got a camera on the back and the front. Good pictures too, none of the grainy old rubbish!

Mia the German Shepherd.

Modern kids take all this in their stride. When I showed my incredibly wonderful new camera to my lovely granddaughter Maisie the other day she didn’t seem at all impressed. Actually neither did my beautiful daughter Jodie, although she did help me to find out how everything worked on it.

My extremely handsome son George hasn’t seen it yet because he is at university in Liverpool but I don’t expect he will be terribly impressed either.

EHS George will be 21 years old on the 27th January. Where does the time go? Why don’t I look a day older than when he was born? He has an exam on his birthday so can’t be at home but he will be back the day after to celebrate.

For his 21st birthday present he has asked for a camera trap. He wants to photograph wildlife. We think there is an otter nearby. He does love wildlife. I am surprised he isn’t studying that at uni. Perhaps he will do that next?

I am quite excited to see what his camera trap captures. I expect he will put some pictures on facebook, although he isn’t on facebook much. Not yet!

This is me on my new phone. Just doing some practice. I'm currently at my daughter Jodie's house and I'm not even next to my computer isn't that amazing?so now it seems I can blog on the go. Can't think of anything to blog about at the moment so I will log out. By the way I am actually talking into my phone and not actually typing this. I am like a kid with a new toy.

De-activated?

I have stopped being a facebooker. I have signed out. Given it up for taking too much of my valuable time. So that's it, I am an ex-facebooker. Goodbye facebook. Farewell and adieu. Forever. You will no longer hold me prisoner. I have escaped your grasp at last. No longer do I have to read things I don't want to read. See things I don't want to see. I will never again have to become ridiculously annoyed or irritated because someone has put something up telling me how I should or should not behave. Or how I should feel about certain things. Or have someone tell me, a been there seen it, done it several times around the block 67 year old bloke yet another thing I first learned many years ago. I can now stop accepting as friends people who I do not know, simply because I am too gentlemanly and don't want to hurt their feelings. People who after I have accepted their friend request either immediately start to annoy me, or disappear and are never seen again but I know they are there stalking my life yet disclosing nothing of there own. Oh, what a relief it is to no longer be held in facebooks thrall.
I have de-activated my account. It seems one cannot delete it entirely. I am still there somewhere but hidden from sight. I could if I so desired re-activate very easily. This isn't such a bad thing because although it is only 24 hours since I left facebook, I am missing it a bit. Quite a lot actually.
One more quick look couldn't do any harm could it? One more look? Where is the harm in that? After all, it's not as though I'm a facebook addict. Good heavens no! Not me.

The Helpful Shop Assistant.

“Do you sell cup hooks?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Have you got brass ones?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Oh good, how much are they, please?”

“They are 40 pence each Sir.”

“I’d like two, please.”

“We only sell them in packets of six Sir.”

“You just said they were 40 pence each.”

“Yes Sir.”

“That would be eighty pence for two.”

“Yes Sir, eighty pence for two.”

“But you can only sell me a packet of six?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Why did you tell me they were 40 pence each then?”

“The pack costs £2.40 Sir. So 40 pence each.”

“But they would only be 40 pence each if you sold them singly.”

“No Sir, if we sold them singly they would be about 45 pence each probably.”

“So they are actually 45 pence each?”

“I will have to check that figure Sir if you would give me a couple of minutes.”

“No, that’s okay I’ll leave it thanks.”

“Is there anything else Sir?”

“Do you sell aspirins?”

And They Say Nothing Exciting Ever Happens In The Village.

The emergency services were called out last night when during the strongest winds of this year a plastic dustbin belonging to the Smith family of Foundry Road Yapton was blown away. After an extensive search involving two police sniffer dogs the bin was later discovered more than ten yards away in next doors front garden. Council workers, who were sent to recover the bin had to return empty handed when one of the men was seen without his high visibility jacket. The man is question has been suspended from duty while Health and Safety officers investigate.

Mrs Smith, who it later turned out had only the day before washed out the bin with a mixture of Jeyes fluid and warm water was treated for shock in St Richards Hospital. She was allowed home after treatment.

None of the family were available for comment due to legal reasons. A neighbour, Mrs Muriel Perkins aged 63, divorced, of 11 Foundry Road who asked to remain anonymous, said later that a similar thing involving Mrs Smith’s mother, the late Gladys Smith, had happened in the early 1960’s. She said it was a tragic coincidence that such an event could strike twice in the same family.

A police spokesman speaking shortly after the event urged householders to pay close attention to weather forecasts. He said people become complacent, they think it couldn’t happen to them.

The dustbin lid, a green plastic one is still missing. There have been no reported sightings.

The Female Orgasm. A Learned Paper.

It is not generally known that the female orgasm was first discovered on the morning of 17th of April 1961, when a certain Mrs Gladys Smith of 11, Acacia Road, Tunbridge Wells, Kent  whilst wearing a pair of loose French knickers - brought for her as a 42nd birthday gift by her husband Cedric - accidentally got the gusset caught on the door latch of her recently purchased Hotpoint spin dryer.
Unable to contain her excitement at this momentous discovery Gladys told her sister Maud – a well-known local gossip – and soon the whole world knew. Needless to say, sales of Hotpoint spin dryers went through the roof.

However, it wasn’t long before men began to fight back at this outrageous assault on their manhood. One determined man even went so far as to throw himself in front of the Queen’s horse at Ascot race course. Sadly he was killed. The man that is, not the horse.

Gladys’s  marriage soon fell apart and she walked out of the marital home claiming that her husband and the Hotpoint spin dryer had both become unbalanced and therefore unable to fulfil her womanly requirements.

Hotpoint then designed, with Gladys Smith’s expert help,  a miniature handbag sized battery operated spin dryer. Despite government attempts to ban this vibrating monstrosity, it quickly caught on and spawned many similar implements. The writing, sadly was on the wall and men, already useless in most areas of life became sexually redundant too.

It was at this stage that the emancipation of women really took hold and they began to do outrageous things such as demanding the right to wear sensible knickers,  driving cars and going into pubs and drinking. Some women, unbelievably,  began to go out to work without their husband's permission!

Luckily for many men, in 1973 homosexuality was made legal, and so at least some were able to get their jollies, as I believe it was known.

The plastic vibrator industry went into decline in the the late eighties and  this led to women briefly turning to men again for their sexual pleasure, although sadly they now preferred younger men who they were able to bend to their lascivious will. These young men became known as toy boys. An apt description as they were soon discarded like unwanted toys when the plastic vibrator industry made a resurgence by inventing the notoriously reliable rampant rabbit.

Mr Cedric Smith is currently gainfully employed in the battery industry.

Mrs Gladys Smith moved to America and died during an earthquake of 7.5 magnitudes. Her last words were reputed to be, “the earth moved for me.”

Elvis Presley. Oil On Canvas.

Elvis Presley was born on the 8th of January 1935.  He would have been 80 years old on Thursday. Many have tried to emulate him, none succeeded. There could only be one Elvis.

This painting is my tribute to him. I like Elvis. I hope I have done him justice. I tried hard. I am quite pleased with it, although whatever I paint, I always think I could have done better.

Elvis Presley. The King.
Oil on canvas.
20x16in