Issue 435 29th April 2016

Rising Brook Library Rising Brook Writers’ Monday Workshop will be returning to our ‘home’ of 11 years, at some future date as yet tba. Meanwhile workshops continue in our temporary quarters in Rising Brook Baptist Church Cafe. 1.30pm on Mondays.

FLASH FICTION: silent, gorge, bacon, flower, trespass, bottle, hard,

hammer

Assignment: Between the gate posts, or George and the Dragon

A warm welcome awaits. COME to WORKSHOP ... Temp home: Rising Brook Baptist Church Cafe

Workshops same time 1.30 Monday.

Here‟s a jolly

wheeze ... F.F.F.

Fast Flash Fiction:

Write a story in

SIX words ...

Please note:

There will

not be a workshop

on Monday

2nd May

as it is a

Bank Holiday

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William Frend De Morgan (16 November 1839 – 15 January 1917) was an English potter, tile designer and novelist.

A lifelong friend of William Morris, he designed tiles, stained glass

and furniture for Morris & Co. from 1863 to 1872. His tiles are often based on medieval designs or Persian patterns, and he experimented

with innovative glazes and firing techniques. Galleons and fish were popular motifs, as were "fantastical" birds and other animals. Many of De Morgan's tile designs were planned to create intricate patterns

when several tiles were laid together.

William de Morgan Ceramics images taken at Wightwick Manor,

near Wolverhampton, a National Trust property. The image quality is not brilliant because of

a low light policy and flash photography not being permitted.

More Interest In Vegetables?

A few days ago a friend phoned up to say thanks for the latest articles and told me

that one of the local supermarkets, in a nearby town, had re-arranged their store and

put in a new fancy vegetable display. It‟s like something out of “Star Trek,” were

his words.

Perhaps a bit of an exaggeration, but when we checked it out, we were impressed.

The new display system employs a fine misting system delivered through large,

bright and shiny stainless steel pipes that drops the mist over the vegetables like dry

ice pours mist over the stage at the theatre. This system means that they can keep

the vegetables fresher for much longer than on a normal display without chilling,

which in turn means that they can offer for sale strange and exotic vegetables that

would otherwise be difficult to keep saleable.

Their range of vegetables included quite a few that I had never heard of before, but

also included many that I have written about such as Mooli, Kohl Rabi, Globe Arti-

choke, Chicory, yellow Tomatoes, Purple Asparagus as well as a few of the more

ordinary types of vegetables to bulk out the display. Admittedly, I would never have

valued my Kohl Rabi at the price they were charging, but theirs were much bigger

than the ones that came off my allotment and a lot more crisp rather than solid. Un-

doubtedly they had been grown in perfect conditions with lots of moisture to stop

them from getting tough.

The same was probably true of the other vegetables, again giving some justification

for the prices, but I still think I will continue growing as much of my own as I can

on my allotment. If the shop keeps the display it will mean though that we can try

out all the strange vegetables before we actually grow them and see what they

should taste like if I grow them properly!

On the subject of my strange vegetables not growing so well as theirs, half of my

early planting of Kohl Rabi are going to seed as are my Chicory that I replanted af-

ter the Winter. Maybe it is due to the dry spell that we had, or maybe I was just too

early planting them. I can only console myself with the fact that other plot holders

seem to have plants going to seed that really shouldn‟t be.

People keep saying that it‟s a shame my Asparagus are going to seed, but I am let-

ting the tops grow now to put energy back into the roots after a very short season of

harvesting from the first few planted early last season. I do have one plant that

doesn‟t seem to be shooting though, so I bought a replacement packet that had been

reduced to £1 with 2 roots in and actually potted 5 plants after a little careful divid-

ing! Two out of 8 of my tiny grape vines didn‟t come through the winter either, so

they had to be replaced as well with a couple of spares that I had and at the same

time I put in some posts ready to support them, but with no wires strung between

them as yet.

My recently planted Oca, or New Zealand Yams are doing well, although everyone keeps

pointing out the large “Clover” plants that are growing in my plot. I try to explain what they

are, but nobody seems to believe me when I tell them that they are a type of Yam and not

overgrown weeds!

Another strange vegetable that I really must try and only came across a few days, ago is the

Cinnamon Vine, or Dioscorea Batatas. It is supposed to be an invasive weed with a 3 foot

edible tuber that grows straight down and takes 2 or 3 years to reach maturity. Apparently

the top growth also produces small bulbils on the stems which will drop off and grow hence

it being invasive and difficult to eradicate, but it still sounds fun to me, especially when the

supplier points out that you may need your own JCB to dig them up!

Cinnamon Vine or Chinese Yam

Images Wikipedia

Did anyone see the wonderful Patricia Routledge’s TV documentary on the life of Beatrix Potter?

If so you may recall Potter’s childhood nursery bedroom. Perhaps you may also recall the animal frieze above the fire-

place ... That part of the documentary was recorded at Wightwick Manor.

Online The Telegraph has an interview with Patricia Routledge about the

documentary which is well worth reading.

Water Poem

Waters something that we drink

We get this from our sink

Turn the tap watch it go

Into glass or cup does flow

H20 is its proper name

Call it water just the same

In this water bath or shower

Sometimes use it for an hour

Water we do take for granted

Like on flowers, all well planted

Waters something we abuse

Waters something that we use

Without water would not survive

We need water to keep alive

Water, water all around us

Helps us clean car or bus

Waters important not to waste

With chlorine in a weird taste

So friendly water we say thanks

Thank you water, in water tanks

Happy Birthday! God Save the Queen!

God Save the Queen, a rousing, heart-felt song,

Proud tears will fall in patriotic tide.

When teams line-up determined to stay strong,

Or new-named Knight, calls family to his side.

Our noble Queen may wish relaxing day,

Put up her feet, forget the singing crowd.

Drink cup of tea and watch the corgis play,

At ninety years, she surely is allowed!

But listen now, hear people fill the street,

As loud brass bands march smartly into view.

Sing as one voice at corner where they meet,

And shout out loud, „Happy Birthday to you!‟

As Her Majesty takes time from her routine,

Join in a rousing verse, „God Save the Queen!‟

Stuck in Sticky Jam

This may sound disloyal, perhaps I shouldn‟t say,

Sometimes I am pathetic, my fears get in the way.

I turn into a snivelling wreck, no use, no use at all,

And that‟s the time I let him in – paranoia‟s come to call!

Off time sends me crazy, old before my time,

And those most dear and loving, see me past my prime.

I fear they get annoyed with me, for being like I am,

When I‟m tied up in a thousand knots, swimming in the jam!

I know they do their best for me and that is good enough,

Life is hard for everyone, and mine is really tough!

CAN YOU BELIEVE I THINK SUCH THINGS – NEVER!

NO! NOT ME!

Yet in those off-time hours, I‟m as nasty as can be.

But when those villains leave, parky and his mate

When I‟m back to being me, no longer in a state,

I thank the Lord for family, who accept me as I am,

Even tied in knots and sticky from the jam!

Ninety Years

Ninety years without slumbering Tic toc tic toc His life's seconds numbering Tic toc tic toc It stopped, short, never to go again When the old man died. My father was born on 14th January 1921 and died on 18th January 2014 four days after his 93 birthday. He lived in Yatton, Somerset, for his first fifteen years with his parents and grandfather. In 1938 aged fifteen he joined the RAF as a boy apprentice and was stationed at Cosford until the outbreak of the Second World War. He was then stationed at Pembroke where he worked with Sunderland flying boats and qualified as a Sergeant Instructor. He was stationed at Plymouth before being transferred overseas where he served in South Africa, Madagascar, Ceylon and Egypt. In 1945 he was back in England where he married and was stationed in Cosford again. I was born in June 1946 and we lived in a fourteen foot caravan at Oaken. They must have been a hardy lot because we lived in that caravan in the winter of 1947. After he left the RAF in 1948 my father trained as a teacher in Bristol while we lived in Weston-Super-Mare. His first post was in Berkshire, my brother was born in 1954.in 1956 we moved to Dorset and in 1958 to Bristol. In 1964 I left home for University. My parents lived in Bristol until the late 1970s when they moved to a dere-lict Cotswold cottage which was built in the reign of Elizabeth the first. They lived in a caravan on site until the building was habitable. They lived there until my fa-ther died and my mother lives there still. What is the point of this story and the chorus of ‘My Grandfather’s Clock’? Now comes the interesting part. All of my life there was a grandfather’s clock in the house. It has been in the family since Victorian times, it was made around 1800 by John Stratton of Devizes. I can remember it, in all the houses we lived in, ticking away and chiming the hours. The week my father died I rewound the clock, it stopped and would not go. A year ago I brought it back to my house and had it repaired. It ticks and chimes just like it did in my parent’s house. Last week the final touches were added. The ceiling in some of the houses we lived in were too low to have the finials on the clock. I took the case to a furniture restorer and the finials and wavy edging were replaced and polished. Here is a picture of the clock:

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