The Life And Times.

Saturday, 10 May 2014

Not Today Thank You...

I dont need religion to guide my poor soul
The book that I read from has life written through it
I dont need the scriptures to strive for my goal
If I want it that much then I'll just go and do it

If I dont like your preaching I'm not a blasphemer
If Gods are all real then they know understanding
Not all of us search for one great redeemer
Nor searching for rules that are far too demanding

Go pray if you want to I will not pass judgement
For I just see life through a different perspective
To force your beliefs is not what your God meant
Its all about you staying calm and reflective

Dont kill in my name, dont shout in my favour
For I want to live with all colours and creeds
Guns are just made for a fool that will savour
destruction and death just to furnish their needs.

So keep all your preaching, your prayers and your chanting
Your clothes that just say you're a follower true
For sooner or later your prayers become rantings
And the only one listening to that will be you.

Wednesday, 7 May 2014

The start of Chapter three from Caradoc.




Chapter Three: The Quarry.


As the months went by the long thaw began to take back the land from the grips of the harsh winter snow and ice, it had a been a winter of real discontent, hard on man and beast but with Spring now firmly grasping the mantle and turning the Brown Clee hills into a choir of birds singing and new born lambs bleating at the sheer joy of life, it felt good to be alive.  The wonderful crisp, sun-drenched mornings of a Shropshire hillside Spring time have to be sampled to get the real meaning of how such a simple existence can be so overwhelmingly spiritual yet calming.

 Sam was busy taking ewes and lambs out of the pens and into the open fields one such morning, Jake was at school, a rarity indeed but Sam insisted he go and do some catching up after so much time was missed during the winter snows. Sam tended the flock and then stood leaning on his stick for a few moments, gazing at the early morning mist that followed the river down through the valley below, it was like two different worlds, the village of Clee St Margaret shrouded to the point it was barely visible yet on the hillside the sun warmed the backs of the animals and lay a comforting blanket of warmth across the barren grasslands, a welcome indeed from the harshness of the past few months, Sam stood and took deep breaths of  the hillside air, looking around him as he did. Far in the distance Sam caught the shape of a solitary figure walking towards him from out of the direct sunlight, he could just about make them out as they drew closer, it was Mr. Haggerty the local mine owner, Sam knew exactly what he wanted.
“Fine Morning Samuel, hope the family are all well after that terrible winter, it’s been a hard one for sure” he retorted as he took his hat off and shook Sam’s hand, “That it has Mr. Haggerty, that it has, I warn you are here for a reason not just idle chit chat though, we wouldn’t see you here to just admire the view” “Well, that’s as maybe Sam but politeness costs nothing and after all it is work I am offering you, it’s not like I am here to rob you or anything.”  “No, very true, maybe I was being a bit harsh, but you are not a man known for favours, so go on then what’s on your mind? Spit it out!”  Sam said in a rather less sarcastic manner. Haggerty told Sam that the mine was expanding from Abdon all across Titterstone Clee the adjacent hillside and he needed good strong men to get the quarry started, he explained that as Sam had good experience with the horses and past quarrying on hillsides that he could use his services again, Sam did not like the quarries, they were very hard on the ponies and the men, it was a brutal industry that claimed the lives of many good fellows and animals every year, Sam listened intently. “Of course there will be twice as many horses this year, we need a damn good driver that can keep those nags heads down and pulling the wagons, we reckon you are the man for that job Sam Reynolds” “Oh aye is that so?” Sam said with a wry smile across his face. “So you reckon a bit of flannel and some compliments will have me running back to the quarry then do you Haggerty?” “Now come on Sam, we have been good to you in the past and in any case we need men such as you with good local knowledge to help get this project off the ground and you doubtless need the money and we are willing to make it worth your while”
Sam looked at Haggerty, “You want me to help line the pockets of those backers of yours more like Haggerty, it has nowt to do with you wanting Sam Reynolds, it’s all about the brass to yon kind, it always is”. “Sam, you know the extra brass will come in handy and after all you use us as much as we use you, it’s to our mutual benefit shall we say?” “How much are we talking?” Sam growled, “Well, shall we say one pound and five shillings a week?” “Ha! Sam exclaimed, you can say it but you won’t be seeing me working sixty hour a week for thee Haggerty, not a chance. “Well shall we say three pounds a week? Would that be enough to get what we want?” Haggerty looked across to see Sam’s reaction and wasn’t disappointed, “Three quid a week? Are you being serious?” Sam said, his voice raised, “Never more Sam old chap, I am here to personally ask you, we need you for this job and no-one else could step into your shoes and work those horses as well as keeping them in top shape” “In that case when do I start?” Sam quipped with a wry smile. Haggerty smiled and reached out and shook Sam’s hand again, “I will get the employment papers drawn up Sam, oh and as a goodwill gesture, here is your first months wages up front, just to show you we mean business, good day Sam Reynolds, I will be in touch!” As Haggerty turned to walk away he tossed a small purse of money at Sam, twisting his walking cane in the air and waving it as he walked, Sam just stood there looking into his hands, feeling the money that Haggerty had just tossed him, Sam had scarce seen so much all in one place. “Well I’ll be buggered” he murmured, “Well I’ll be bloody buggered!” Sam threw his Trilby hat in the air and danced and leapt around in a circle, the ewes and lambs darted in every direction as they tried to escape the mad human in their midst, a few hundred yards down the hill Haggerty looked round to see what the noise was about, he spotted Sam leaping around and dancing for joy and smiled and shook his head as he walked onwards “nowt so queer as hillside folk” he muttered to himself jovially walking onwards as Sam’s cheers and whoops could be heard deep into the valley.

As one Reynolds was having a day to remember it was easily one to forget for poor Jake. He hated school with a passion and sat gazing out of the classroom window as Miss Hart Williams the headmistress gave them an arithmetic lesson. Jake could barely read and write he never had the patience to sit and concentrate for long enough to ever learn and as for arithmetic, well let’s say right now as he sat daydreaming his mind was very much out in the fields. It was at that precise moment that Jake felt a stinging pain in his right ear, he snapped out of his daydream as Miss Hart Williams marched him out of the classroom much to the other children’s amusement, “Not interesting enough for you Jacob Reynolds?” Miss Hart Williams bawled in his face, “Yes Miss, I mean no Miss, I mean it was very interesting Miss, the whole lesson Miss very interesting like” Sam stammered, “Oh really?  Well what was I just talking about?”  “Oh err math’s Miss… yes that was it math’s Miss and it was very interesting Miss”. Jake knew that look he was now getting spelled trouble, he had seen it all too many times before during his brief days at School, “Into my study with you boy!” she bellowed. Jake was led by the ear to the head’s study and bent over the desk whereupon she produced a cane that was whip-like in its stance, Miss Hart Williams stood a few moments looking above her half glasses that were always hanging way down her nose anyway and saved from falling only by a small chain that sat neatly around her neck, she rolled up the sleeve on her white blouse and stood back. A familiar noise followed by a familiar pain saw Jake scream at the top of his voice as the first strike of the narrow wooden instrument cut into his soft flesh, he screamed at every stroke and stayed there until he had been hit fifteen times, one for every minute of the lesson the Head thought he had missed through daydreaming. Jake stood up straight very slowly and turned to walk to the door, “Well boy, what have you to say?” “Sorry Miss I won’t do it again Miss”
As she leant across to an open draw at her desk, she grabbed a piece of paper and shouted to Jake, “Wait!” With that Jake stopped and turned around, he knew the day was about to get a lot worse. “Take this note home to your Father; see if he can help you to concentrate in class a little better”
Jake walked back and grabbed the note from Miss Hart Williams who grinned at the prospect of yet more punishment when he got home and handed his Dad the letter, for sure it was a recipe for another beating, “And get your father to sign it and bring it back to me tomorrow or else there will be another fifteen for you my boy!”  Jake headed back to the classroom and back to his seat, there was muffled laughter as he did so, until the Head walked back in through the door, it then fell very silent. “Does anyone else fancy the odd daydream in my lesson?” she shouted at the class. “No Miss!” was the immediate reply unsurprisingly.

Jake rode home that afternoon on the old Mare, he felt every stumble and every jolt the poor old horse made as his bottom was red raw from the beating, he rode in to the yard and took her saddle off  and gave her corn and water before heading off in to the house. As he walked through the door he could hear Sam and his mother talking with raised voices, he poked his head around the door and listened to what they were saying, “Sam you don’t need that quarry work, it’s too dangerous, what happens if you get hurt? Who will look after the farm? Jake is barely out of short trousers yet, you have to be careful”
“Stop nagging me woman! Have you seen how much money I just put on the table? Since when did owt with farming give us that kind of money?” “It isn’t about the money Sam it’s about you, what if you get hurt how will we cope?” Eileen spoke in a softer tone, “Well I won’t have to get hurt will I woman? Never bloody happy are you?” With that Sam grabbed his Trillbey and stormed past Jake and disappeared in to the farm yard, Jake just stood there for a moment looking at his mother putting the saucepans on the old stove, “Dad’s going to work at the quarry again isn’t he mum?”, “What business is it of yours Jacob Reynolds? You have no rights listening to conversations that don’t concern you, go and help your father with the lambs”
Jake stood there and looked at his mother, “GO! I said!  Did you not hear me boy?” the lad turned on his heel and took off like a scalded cat, he was worried about the prospect of his father heading for the quarry, he knew how dangerous it was and also how many men were injured every year, Jake was worried about his father, so much so he clean forgot about the beating and more importantly the note he carried for his father to sign.
It was Saturday, the weekend meant very little at Pole Farm, the stock needed feeding and checking before breakfast and then the chores had to be done, including sweeping the yard and feeding the chickens and then fetching water in for mother. Later that morning the postman arrived on his bike, he found the pedalling very hard work up the old stone track to the farmhouse, Graham Maund had been the postman in the area for nigh on 30 years, he knew everyone and all their business, if any gossip was to be heard it was usually from his lips. “Morning young Jacob, is your father in?” Maund asked in a squeaky high pitched voice, “Morning Mr. Maund, yes he is just having breakfast in the house I will take you inside” Jake ran inside and called out to his father, Sam answered and told Jake to bring  Maund in to the kitchen. “Morning Samuel, how are you?” “Come on in Graham and get yourself a seat, the Mrs. will get you a cup of tea, I am alright for the time of year, so what’s the gossip in the village?” Sam said wearing a smirk on his face, “Oh I am not one to gossip Sam, you know that” Maund replied, though he and Sam knew different. “But I do have a letter for you from the quarry company, quite a few in the village have had the same letter this morning, they are opening up the quarry across the top of Abdon Burf so rumour has it, it’s very steep up there Sam they will need twice as many horses for that job, I suppose that’s why they have coaxed you back?” “I may go back I may not Graham, we will see” Sam said in a low voice and looked across at Eileen as she poured the boiling water into the teapot, their eyes met for a split second and they both looked to the floor. “Rumour has it Sam they offered you twice what you had last year and you accepted it, though you know how wrong rumours can be?” “Aye well like I said Graham, I may do I may not, we will see”. Eileen gave Maund a cup of tea and two small biscuits, it was traditional in those days on farms that the postman went in and had a cup of tea and a chat, with no mobile phones or any other communication the Postman was a great source of information as to what was happening in the local area and they were born gossips, Maund was no exception to that rule and Sam knew to be guarded against his ability to make two and two equal fourteen in no time. “There is talk that one of those Polish lads has absconded from the barracks at Ditton Priors Sam, apparently the Police are searching high and low for him, he is only seventeen or eighteen apparently but no-one has seen head nor tail of him for over a week, I don’t suppose you have seen anything Sam?” “Afraid not, I didn’t know anyone had gone missing until you just said, I thought now the war was over they were going to shut that camp?” “They are Sam it closes in August but they have conscripts tidying the place up, seems the young lad got homesick and just took off” Maund replied, “Well I doubt we will see him here, he will be headed for a Port not up on to the Brown Clee Hills!” “You may have a point there Sam Reynolds” they both chuckled.

Maund said thank you for the hospitality as always and headed back down the old farm track on his bike, at least the pedalling was a lot easier on the way back to the village. The postman covered a huge area in those days and there were tin shacks dotted all over the county that they would call at and collect the mail or use as a base even, there was never any theft from these shacks and they were seldom locked, a far call from nowadays. Sam had just finished his cup of tea and was putting his trilby on when there was another knock at the farm house door and a call out, it was Sgt. Ray Heighway from Stoke St Milborough the next village across from The Pole Farm, Stoke was a larger village with many houses, a school and a Police house. “Hellooo is anybody home?” the Sergeant called out, “In here Ray come on in, Sam shouted.
Sergeant Heighway was a very tall man, slightly built but very imposing; he knew everyone in the area and was an old fashioned beat officer, the type that knew more about the area than even Maund the Postman did and most of what Ray knew was worth knowing. He shook Sam’s hand, the two men were very good friends, Ray had a lot of time for Sam, “I hope you don’t mind Sam I am just popping in to let you know that a young conscript has gone AWOL from the camp at Ditton Priors, no-one has seen him since he ran off and they think he may still be in the area”. “Oh aye Ray, we have just had old Maund in here and he told us a lad had run off, it was the first we had heard of it, but we will keep an eye out in the outbuildings that’s for sure but I doubt he would make his way all the way up here, would you like the Mrs. to make you a cuppa?” “Well Sam I thought I ought to pop in and let you know as some of these lads from Poland can be quite nasty if cornered and thank you I will have a cuppa if it’s not too much trouble”
“Don’t be daft man come on in; Eileen will get a brew on”. The two men chatted and gossipped for a while about goings on in the area and soon Sgt Heighway was on his way, Sam promised to keep a look out for the runaway. On his way out Sam took the letter from the quarry and put it in his pocket, Eileen was busy stoking the range so never saw him take it. Sam went in to the barn and pulled the letter out and opened it, it was an employment contract for six months from the quarry and he was to report in on Monday morning at six sharp. Sam sat there just holding the letter for a few moments, he just gazed at the sheaths of hay in front of him almost in a daze, as the reality of going back to the quarry sunk in, Sam wasn’t a quarry man he was a man of the fields but he could scarcely keep his head above water until the lambs were ready to sell and they would need feed and medicines, so he had no choice but to accept his lot and head off for the quarry and he knew it. Sam was very quiet the rest of the day, Jake was allowed to go off and play with his best friend Jonty so that Sam could get his head straight, he wasn’t looking forward to the week ahead.

Sunday, 27 April 2014

Chapter Two The Cold Of The night from Caradoc:


 The start of Chapter two from the upcoming Caradoc.



Chapter Two: The Cold of the Night.



Jake was asleep that evening almost as soon as his young head hit the pillow, the combination of hard work and fresh cold air had now mixed with a full belly of warm Rabbit stew and potatoes and the lad was soon in the land of dreams. This in itself was a blessing for the new day would teach the young Jake much about the harsh realities of caring for livestock in such a harsh environment.
 It seemed like poor Jake had barely closed his eyes in fact when he heard the call from downstairs the following morning, it woke the lad with a start,
“Jake! C’mon boy your breakfast is ready!”
With that Jake leapt out of bed as he knew his father would bring the slipper up if he had to ask twice. Arriving downstairs Jake sensed something was not quite as it should be, he couldn’t explain it but the whole house seemed different, a strange frightening feeling came over him as he entered the kitchen, “Dad?” said Jake in a shallow almost feeble tone, “you alright?” he asked, Sam just sat at the table with his fresh buttered toast and told Jake to do the same as he softly spoke,
“Look Jake, we have had quite a bit more snow than we were expecting, in fact a lot more, you had better take a look out through the kitchen door, but don’t worry about it we will sort it out in a minute”
 Jake spun round in his chair and the sight he was greeted with took his breath away for a few seconds and a chill ran down his spine, for outside was no longer there, all Jake could see was snow against the windows and no dawn sky, no farm yard, just a wall of white as if the God’s had arrived in the middle of the night, taken the world away and left a blank canvas. The boy was horrified; he turned to his father for an explanation or at least a word or two of comfort,
“Aye I know son, it was a lot worse than we ever expected, seems we have to try and dig ourselves out this morning never mind the ewes…”
With that Sam turned and poured hot water from the stove to make the tea, trying not to worry his lad too much about the issues the family and the livestock now found themselves in.
“Can we get out Dad?” the most obvious question a seven year old would ask in such a situation,
“Oh of course son, when we open the door it will stay where it is as its compacted, but we may have a problem with where the snow goes at first, I will go upstairs in a moment and see how far it is off the bedroom window, it may be as easy to start digging from outside”
“You can lower me down Dad I will dig it for you, I can do it!” said Jake now brightening up to the fact that there was at least an outside left after all!
“We better hadn’t Jake, if it’s very soft snow it may swallow you up, I will jump down and dig for a while, you just be ready at the door when I shout you”.
With that the big man rose from his chair, he had huge leather bracers that crossed over his back that he flipped off when washing himself or sat at the table eating, he also used them to belt Jake if needed, as he stood he flicked them over his shoulders and reached for his thick jacket, his tweed like shirt collar had seen much better days, Jake watched as he got himself ready to do battle with whatever he found outside,  despite it never being the ‘done’ thing to tell him, Jake loved his father very much, he felt safe with him and always respected his way of working with animals and the local people, he was a big man not just in build but also in character.
Sam reached for his trilby style hat, a move that was guaranteed to always be followed by a huge rattle of legs from under the kitchen table as the dogs rushed to be the first to get outside, but this morning was different, there was no noise. The dogs had been tied up last night as they were being such a nuisance in the barn, a point that both Jake and Sam were now all too aware of and the worry, if it was there, was as yet unspoken.
Sam climbed the stairs of the old farmhouse and stood on the landing, he looked out of the window there for a better view of where the snow was thickest and which window would be the best to climb out of. In the end Sam entered Jakes bedroom and swung open the window to see how far the snow was away from the ledge, he climbed up and threw his shovel on to the snow drift about 6 ft. below him, before he jumped Sam looked out in to the yard as his eyes were now acclimatised to the darkness of the early dawn, it was a sight that would stick with Sam a lifetime, the farm was under the thickest drifts of snow he had seen in his 40 odd years of being on the hill side, his farm was almost unrecognisable, like a wilderness, a wasteland, as if frozen in time and seemingly devoid of life, it frightened the big man but he was never going to let that fact be known, least of all to a young seven year old patiently waiting in the kitchen below.
Leaping from the bedroom window was a very surreal moment for Sam, but thankfully the snow had frozen on the surface, he didn’t drop right through it so he started to dig feverishly to the door below, the light from the kitchen was lighting the snow up giving off a strange unearthly glow it seemed almost a comfort amongst the ever present peril of the huge drift. It wasn’t long before Sam had reached the door, an overjoyed Jake opened it to let his dad take the last few steps into the house, Jake immediately ran to get his hat and coat, his boots were already on, he had jumped into those the moment his Dad had left the table!
“Grab my hand son,” Sam said in a strong voice,
 “We will go and get those dogs loose, they will sure to want their bloody breakfast by now”
With that Jake grabbed his father’s hand and the two walked up the steep drift that had lent itself against the house overnight like some monster consuming its prey slowly but ever so surely.
Once away from the drift the snow was down to about four feet deep and less in places, still very deep but something the two had seen before on this barren hillside farm, so they both began to feel a little better about the situation, as they walked across the unlit farmyard they both glanced back at the farm house almost at the same time, it looked so tiny covered in a thick snow drift,
“Hell Jake, it must have been a bit rough out here last night, let’s hope the sheep have got in somewhere out of sight” Sam commented.
As the two walked through the deep snow in the farm yard they waited to hear the barking and rattling of chains that would follow the moment either one of their two voices was heard, but there was nothing, it was strange by its absence; Sam instinctively knew something wasn’t right.
“Strange we haven’t heard the two dogs Dad” said Jake in a quiet voice,
“Aaahh it is lad, they are probably asleep on the straw, lazy buggers” he quipped trying to reassure Jake.
But that reassurance was as ill-timed as it was misplaced, for as the two men rounded the corner of the barn they could see nothing of where the two dogs had been tied up overnight.
Without a word the two ran to where the small outbuilding had been and under which the dogs were tied up and started to dig through the mounds of snow that had enveloped the small building, but alas it was all too clear that it was a vain hope, the sheer weight of overnight snow had gathered on the old rickety shed and collapsed it on top of the two dog’s with a crushing weight that no  animal could hope to ever survive, both dogs lay stiff and frozen under the debris, huddled together side by side, they died as they had lived, always together, there was nothing either of the two men could do.
“Damn it!” Sam said as he dug deeper eventually pulling the two dogs from their frozen grave,
“This is going to make the day a damn sight harder, no bloody dogs!”  The big man muttered, trying to separate the grief of losing two of his best friends and remembering his boy was stood next to him, “get a sack from by the barn lad we will bury them later when we get back from bringing the ewes in, we can’t mess with it now”.
Jake did as he was told, he looked at the two dogs as his Dad pulled the sack up and put them in one by one, it was the first time Jake had seen an animal he loved dead, he was used to seeing sheep and cattle dead in the fields, he had grown up with seeing that, but the 8 and 9 year old dog’s had been there before even he had and the boy struggled to hold the tears back.
“Never mind piping your eye Jake, they are just bloody sheepdogs, we will get two more, these two were bloody useless anyway”  Sam spoke in a matter of fact way, while trying very hard not to show the sorrow that overwhelmed the big man at losing two damn good sheepdogs and even worse a couple of good friends.
“Right, let’s feed the ewes in the barn first me lad” Sam said almost as soon as the top of the sack was tied, “then we have a bit of work to do to fetch those other sheep in now we haven’t any dogs to do the legwork for us”
Jake was still trying to take it all in while having a secret cry as he went along the pens with fresh dry hay in bundles feeding expectant and now very noisy sheep, Jake seeing the two dog’s in that way was a harsh reality call for such a youngster but he was born to the land so he learned to adjust, it’s the only way the families survived on these hillsides and death was very much a part of life.
Sam was busy saddling the old mare as Jake finished feeding the sheep in the barn, luckily the stable block was on the other side of the yard so the entrance to it was almost devoid of snow, a strange phenomenon considering less than six feet away from the door the snow was almost three to four feet deep. Sam led the mare out and jumped on her back, he rode over to Jake and stretched out his huge fatherly hand towards the young lad, Jake grabbed it at once and Sam immediately swung the boy like a rag doll on to the back of the mare’s saddle, with that he dug his heels into the animal and they rode out of the yard in search of the ewes that were by now desperate for a warm dry barn and fresh hay.




Saturday, 22 March 2014

Caradoc. First paragraphs.



 Caradoc.


The candle snuffed out, the darkness smothered the light in a battle that was lost before it had even begun, Jake slid slowly under the goose down duvet and pulled it right up to his chin, he could barely see out as he rolled to one side, his one eye buried in the soft pillow and his other staring into the dark abyss.  Jake looked across the room at where he knew his window should be and slowly, his one sight adjusted and the huge window slowly took shape, he could just make out the hills and trees that surrounded the farm and beyond, appearing as if by magic across the moonlit countryside he knew so well.
As Jake lay there he could hear his parents talking in the kitchen below, he couldn’t make out what they were saying but it comforted the 7 year old to hear their low murmuring voices, his huge farmhouse bedroom was a very daunting place for such a youngster, not helped by the fact that down the hallway from his bedroom he had witnessed his great granddad pass away in a gasp of sudden breath and groans that would stick with this young farm boy for many years to come. Right now however, Jake was trying hard to not think about that, he needed sleep as sure as day follows night, for the next morning his father was expecting him downstairs at six sharp to help feed stock and fetch the sheep off the hills that surrounded the small remote farm he and his parents called home, in his father's words he had to earn his ‘keep’.
The darkness slowly transformed its evil stare into a warm maternal-like smile that welcomed Jake into that sub-conscious world of dreams and adventures our imagination holds safe for us, cast into dreams that run as wild as any thought or idea we would dare to think of.
Downstairs, as ever at this time in the evening, Jake’s mother Eileen stood up from where she was sat comfortably in her large wooden backed chair, she trudged to the hearth and picked up a huge log and placed it on the brightly glowing but slowly disappearing embers of the range fire, the embers flew up all around as she grabbed a metal poker and stirred the fire with a purpose.
“That should keep it going ‘till morning Sam”
She commented wearily as she dusted down her hands on her apron. Eileen always wore an apron, she was always working, her forehead glistened against the backdrop of the fire from cooking bread and scones for the last few hours, she was a loyal housewife first and foremost and though her hands were calloused and bleeding from the harsh cold and never ending workload, she never complained. Sam was her husband and she had to ensure she played her part in the running of the farm.
“Well, we can expect a tough time of it tomorrow lass, that sky was full of snow when I came in for supper” Sam said wearily.
He spoke in a deep, slow, matter of fact way. Sam only knew how to work, pray and eat and always in that order, he was a very straight honest man. He stood over six feet tall with wide shoulders and a square, chiseled-like face that was stern looking but in a strange way still welcoming.  Chapel raised and God fearing with a deep respect for life that would be so out of place as to be almost mythical in today’s rush to get to the grave. Sam had seen many things in a lifetime spent on the green Shropshire hill’s, it had been a harsh, rough and tumble, poverty stricken existence, but a sense of loyalty and duty ran through his veins like an army would march to battle. 
“They have talked snow all week in the village” Sam growled in his thick Shropshire accent.
“That being the case we are in a whole world of trouble with the lambs all due” he added.
“They always say it’s going to be a lot Sam, it rarely comes to much I shouldn’t worry too much if I were you” Eileen piped up.
“Well you didn’t look too hard mother! The sky was as red as a beetroot this morning, a sure sign we will get a hooking of snow”.
“Oh really Sam James! You know as well as me that snow is all part of living where we do, we have always coped!”
Eileen spoke out with a sternness that was meant to diffuse a clearly worried Sam and to reassure him that everything would be fine, but Sam was not quite so sure and the evidence was written clearly all over his face.
“It’s nigh on ten mother, it’s time I went to bed or that boy will be up before me and I shan’t hear the last on it”.
With that Sam got up from his chair by the range and walked across the kitchen to place his cap on the hook at the back of the kitchen door. In seconds there was a rustle of clawed feet upon the stone tiles from under the huge oak kitchen table that suddenly produced two scruffy mud covered Border Collie sheepdogs deperately trying to be the first to get to Sam. They almost ran over top of one another, such was their loyalty to the big man.
“Steady! Ya daft buggers!”  Sam shouted, “you’ll break your bloody legs scratching out from that table, come here and get your supper and don’t get fighting over it”.
Sam scraped the remains of that night’s dinner in to an old chipped bowl on the floor from the saucepan filled by Eileen as she cleared up the table earlier, the left over potato’s veg and some rabbit meat were all mixed up in a thick gravy, the dogs dived into the pot with their snouts, growling at each other as they feverishly ate, the pot moved along the stone floor of the kitchen clanking and rattling and both dogs and the bowl soon ended up in the corner midst muted growls and slurping noises, which brought a broad smile to Sam’s face as he made his way up the stairs to bed.

Sunday, 2 March 2014

Just Thinking...

The school bell calls to a playground thats bristling
The teachers shout orders but no-one is listening
Nurses take slaps from drunks after midnight
While pay cuts are threatened no chance of a respite

The Barman shouts time to a pub without drinkers
While libraries echo with thoughts of past thinkers
The keyboard replaces the art of plain talking
As people in gym's just go aimlessly walking

Our kids all have homework that goes on forever
According to OFSTED it makes them so clever
No thoughts of a childhood for this generation
Just SATS tests and figures the MP's creation

Just thinking why bother and why toe the line
Despite all our history its not worth a dime
We've not learned the lesson that shouts in our face
Its only us humans that think its a race.


The High Street is quiet except for protesters
While car parks are full at McDonalds and Tesco's
Money that fed all the butchers and bakers
Now lines greedy pockets of bankers, just takers.

The e-shop has taken the fun from our shopping
Our fingers get tired and our bank accounts dropping
The telephone rings when you answer its quiet
They've something to sell but you dont wan't to buy it

We cant go for a break if the room has no Wifi
You've not been away if you drive there and dont fly
Buy shopping and spend lots to get your cheap fuel
Burn it while queuing just who is the fool?

Just thinking why bother and why toe the line
Despite all our history its not worth a dime
We've not learned the lesson that shouts in our face
Its only us humans that think its a race.
  
Roads are all potholes they rattle our brains
The railways are packed and there's never no trains
But we find 60 billion to finance one track
So we can go quicker to London and back.

Our power is expensive we sold all our shares
So the foreigners charge what they like well who cares?
The hospital trust cant afford to get cleaners
So those super bugs just get meaner and meaner

Badgers get sympathy while cattle are shot
They look so damned cute its not TB they'e got
Don't dredge the rivers you'll kill all the selfish
So I live on a mountain just why am I selfish?.

Just thinking why bother and why toe the line
Despite all our history its not worth a dime
We've not learned the lesson that shouts in our face
Its only us humans that think its a race.

 


 








Monday, 24 February 2014

Don't think.

A wandering mind full of thoughts that don't help me
An unshaven face full of creases and misery
Life runs so fast but the pace I'm not keeping
I spend all my days either working or sleeping

People are talking demanding and wanting
Their faces in dreams they repeat like a haunting
Why cant they see life is not about hating?
For what special moment do they think they are waiting?

I carry some pictures of times that meant most to me
They capture my heart and the people so close to me
They remind me of life so I am not left alone
Perhaps I won't find that place they call home.

So keep all your nagging your bookwork and heartaches
Life never comes with instructions or park brakes
Work every day it's your life you are grieving,
It's not going to work if you don't start believing.

 

Friday, 21 February 2014

Fanfare for the common man

I don't drink Champagne from a cut crystal glass and my name does not have a hyphen
I don't have a Bidet to splash up my ass or have speeding fines I blame the wife on
I don't argue with cops in a Downing street tiff that cost more than Shropshire's whole budget
I don't get all excited if I'm offered a spliff and my expenses are paid I cant fudge it.

I have common sense that came with my birth, I cant speak with a plum in my mouth,
I watch older men with considerable girth, say we're poorer in North than in South.
But we don't have queues that go on for weeks and up here we talk to each other,
We chat in the pubs and laugh at the heroes you worship on fucking Big Brother.

You build a new railway that nobody wants with money you really don't have,
You think that its clever to splash all our cash, like a legalised bully or Chav.  
So #hs2 is coming our way... well not if you live in the West, one train a day, not going your way,
is still all you pray for at best.
Ignore all the voices that say "please don't do it"... remember how rich you can get?
Lining pockets of gentry with land they were given, by The Normans who ain't finished yet.

The committees you form to pour lots of scorn on how the last government failed,
Cost in excess of the budgets you set, for the whole of Scotland and Wales.
Your schools are failing, the kids are just fucked, so tired their childhood is missed,
While the rest of the services suffer from meddling, I swear I'd do better half pissed.

But look at our people, we shout from each steeple its always the government's doing,
Then we moan at the rules that are made by these fools, but its only ourselves we are screwing
So stop all the moaning and looking for blame, its a terrible American culture
Those scavenging lawyers that sue you for breathing, are a bunch of scavenging vultures.

Will this story of mine that I put into rhyme make a difference? I hardly think not,
For those Southern bred toffs will laugh and they'll scoff, while the rest of us simply just rot.
So fuck all the manners, the nice smiles and spammers, who pester us all night and day,
I will do like you all, just sit moaning and call you all bastards while taking my pay.









Friday, 31 January 2014

All kids are equal, but some ARE more equal than others.


  • I honestly believe the Tories have lost the plot... keeping kids in school for 9 hours is not going to solve a single problem. The kids are already doing an hour of homework when they get home and the bright ones are being given work to copy to one side while the ones interrupting lessons are given a TA and additional teaching, the world isnt fair and it isnt perfect, we cant tailor schools for everyone, some kids are naturally adept at manual work others at mental work, thats nature not selective education, I think Grammar Schools should be brought back where those who can achieve are allowed to be tested and those who want to arse around and be a class idiot can do so but not at the expense of the bright kids, the argument of fairness can be turned on its head, its unfair on bright kids to de-value their education because of some numpty who is happy to stack shelves all their lives, this country is becoming a cluster fuck of stupid ass politicians who have been inter-breeding so long they have lost the plot and do-goody lefties who think we are all born equal... I think Mother Nature could put them right on that one, sad but true. It's time we realised it.