The Church in the Farmyard
Wisley Church
You know how we love Wisley Gardens. Like the other week, when we just came to the gardens for an al fresco Al-Anon meeting. Read a book. Americano. With milk and shortbread. And, last week, a flower show as well! Luvverly. (more…)
Tickets
Bobby does not collect tickets. He doesn’t collect anything with alacrity.
Bobby: “Blimey! Where did that come from?”
Bertie: “Oxford Concise.” (more…)
Fantasy and Illusion
Three friends. Two civil engineers. One teddy bear lover. Peter, Bob, Phil.
As we left the busy A3 at the RHS Wisley junction, we immediately became aware of the volume of traffic heading into the gardens. The long patient queue of people at the entrance, including lots of young children, only added to the illusion that this was a good idea. A horticultural version of Brighton Beach on a Bank Holiday. (more…)
Lighting a Candle for Diddley (and for Peter)
Lighting a Candle
Diane Ball (nee Solomon). (Diddley)
19 August 1950 – 23 August 2015.
Changing the Guard at Buckingham Palace
Changing the Guard at Buckingham Palace
Bobby and Bertie didn’t take Alice.
Whose Alice?
Dunno
Just Four Days
Bobby: “Bertie! Our revered Technical Director, Tim, has made an observation. As he cruises serenely along the waterways of England in his canal boat, ‘Sola Gratia‘ with Tracey and the doggies, he notices things.” (more…)
Three Little Boys
Once upon a time there were Three Little Boys. Jason, Jay and Bobby
Jason is tiny and not yet two. Jay is little and nearly six. Bobby is huge and nearly 78. Jason doesn’t say much. He wouldn’t yet, would he? Thinks a lot. Jay is the live-wire that Bobby was told he was when he was Jay’s age. Bobby has never grown up and talks too much. (more…)
Trigger
Many of our stories are written straight off the cuff and are then refined. Changed a little. Sometimes, the final version is quite different to the original idea. On rare occasions, where a lot of emotion is involved, it seems best to just write it while the state of mind exists and just tidy up the grammar.
Trigger was written on a phone sitting on a stile by a railway line. Tears splashed off the phone as the emotions got the better of him. Numerous mistypes have been corrected, but otherwise this is exactly what he wrote sitting on that stile.
Trigger
Roy Rogers on Trigger.
The Allotment
Bertie: “It’s too bleedin ‘ot!”
Bobby: “I know, Bertie. It might help if you took that scarf off!”
Bertie: “No way. I’d feel naked without it.”
Bobby: “You would be!” (more…)