Love is the flower........

She lay there, confused, not understanding. In her hand a pink lily, fragile, delicate, its flimsy petals resting on her breast.

Their last few moments played over and over in her mind. Her thoughts were clouded, her memory dulled.

His words swam around inside her head, muddled, unclear. She vaguely remember seeing him in the garden, plucking a bloom then stumbling towards her, a pained look on his furrowed brow. Then nothing. She fell asleep.

The sound of rain beating on the window panes awoke her. She watched the water trickling down the glass like the tears which flowed down her cheeks. Another day had dawned, a day when she would be alone.

His words were clearer now. She said them to herself, slowly, quietly, her voice no more than a whisper. 'Love is the flower you must let grow' he’d said as he threw the lily at her.

In her hand she still held a lily, but now it was limp, crumpled, dead.

‘Love is the flower you must let grow’ she said.

Written for Carry On Tuesday #10

I normally invite you to click on the picture to enlarge, but I'm not sure that it would be appropriate to do so on this occasion! Mind you chaps, the result of doing so is pretty spectacular!

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Glorious Goodwood 2009

STOP PRESS! TO VISIT GLORIOUS GOODWOOD 2010 CLICK HERE!




Yesterday was first day of one the most prestigious events in the UK’s horseracing calendar. Glorious Goodwood 2009
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Set high up in the rolling Sussex hills this stunning course sits surrounded by some of the most spectacular scenery in the country and for the next few days Goodwood will be the focus of attention for the media and equestrian fans alike.
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This is an annual pilgrimage for a group of friends and me and as usual we drove to the venue in style thanks to Derek at the wheel of his never ending Lincoln limo! Champagne flowed as we sped through the countryside hoping that this most grumpy of summers would at least allow us one day without rain!








It was hard to believe that we were in the middle of one of the deepest recessions in most people’s living memory. Goodwoods smart Gordon enclosure was packed with people determined to have a good time. Colourful dresses, whispy headgear and jaunty panama hats being the order of the day. Jugs of Pimms stuffed with fruit and herbs adorned every table, and a jazz band added to the atmosphere on this oh-so English Summers day!
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Down at the trackside everybody mingled together, from the casual race goers to the social elite who came down to place their bet with one of the colourful characters who took their money in the hope that today would be the day the bookies win!
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But for most people the day was about fun. Betting a modest sum of money was more about adding to the excitement rather than looking forward to a big win.
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Here are a few of the pictures I took which I hope will convey at least a little of the atmosphere of this great occasion.

Click on photos to enlarge

TV pundit and Big Brother star John McCririck

That's my beautiful daughter Penny with me in the middle!

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Well, the weather was kind to us! None of us really won anything to speak of, but once again we had a fabulous day. Here's To Glorious Goodwood 2010!
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Back where we started!

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PS. Rosey came too, but as usual managed to avoid my camera. Her account of the day is very different from mine! You can see it HERE!
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This Weeks Carry On Tuesday prompt is from John Lennon and is ready and waiting or you!

Click HERE to join in the fun!

Where in the world...

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This weeks prompt on Sunday Scribblings is Where in the World. I've taken the liberty of adding a couple of letters to the first word!

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click on picture to enlarge

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I’ve seen quite a bit of the world. In the short time I’ve been writing here I’ve taken you with me to India, Thailand, the Caribbean and across Europe.
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Today was a typical English summer’s day. Warm and breezy with the sun peeping out from behind a scattering of fluffy white clouds. It’s on days like this that I travel the short distance from my home down to the seashore or up into the hills. There I can be alone with my thoughts and at one with Mother Nature.

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This morning climbed up the path to the top of the hill overlooking the bustling town below. There was hardly a soul there. The occasional hiker and a few people exercising their dogs.
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I stood on one spot for a minute or two and looked for a while in each direction. Up there with just the panorama for company I looked out over the undulating patchwork of green and gold fields speckled with woolly white downland sheep and punctuated by sturdy trees.
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And I thought to myself how blessed I am to have all this just minutes away. I thought to myself that there is nowhere in the world I’d rather have been right then. Nowhere.

Wordless Wednesday - Pevensey marsh

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My hero?

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This is my contribution to Carry On Tuesday this week.

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Have you ever heard of Douglas Horton? I hadn’t until a few years ago. I was searching for a quotation to use in a presentation. I popped a few key words into Google and I found just what I was looking for. It was to be used in a session I was conducting on leadership and I was attempting to explain the difference between an effective salesperson and an inspirational manager.

The quote went like this – Thinking good deeds is not enough, doing good deeds is not enough, seeing others follow your good example is enough.

A few weeks later Douglas Horton came back into my mind and I thought I’d have a look for a few other words of wisdom from this wise man. I found literally hundreds of commonsense one–liners! I realised that this American priest from the early part of the 20^th century had a few words suited to just about every occasion.

One of my favourites is ‘Growing old is not growing up’. How true!

Whilst I was struggling with this prompt and wondering what possessed me to pick it, I thought I’d pay my old friend a visit to see what he had to say on the subject. He came up trumps again! ‘Be your own hero – it’s cheaper than a movie ticket’.

Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my life is debatable. I’ve tried to think good thoughts, I’ve tried to do good deeds. But have I seen others follow my example? I’d like to think so because according to the Rev Douglas Horton that would be enough.

James has a plan!

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This weeks prompt at Sunday Scribblings is The Plan. I've written one for the children amongst us this week!
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‘Tommy, come over here’ called James waving his arms in the air. Tommy took a flying leap off the swing but landed somewhat awkwardly.


‘Ouch’ he yelled standing on one leg whilst massaging his injured ankle.


‘Don’t be such a wimp’ called James ‘Just come here’


Tommy limped and hopped and stumbled until he reached the gate over which James had been calling.


‘I’ve got a plan’ said James. ‘Do you want to be part of it?’
Suddenly Tommy forgot that he was supposed to be in pain. ‘What’s your plan James?’ he said.


James leapt over the gate. He too made a bit of a mess of it, and landed on his knees! But James was a tough guy. A graze and a little bit of blood were nothing to him. After all they looked like battle scars.


He stood up, brushed the dirt from his legs, cupped his hand and whispered something very secret in Tommy’s ear.


‘Wow’ said Tommy. ‘What a great plan. Do you mean we are going to......’ And with that James clasped his hand over Tommy’s mouth.


‘It’s a secret plan silly’’ he said ‘do you really want to spoil it?’


Tommy shook his head then raised a finger to his lips. ‘It’s a secret plan’ he hissed.


The two lads set off down the road marching like soldiers. They stopped at Rupert’s door, knocked on it asked to speak to their friend.


When Rupert appeared James said ‘We have a plan Rupert! Tommy, tell him about it’.


Tommy cupped his hand and whispered something in Rupert’s ear.


‘Great’ said Rupert jumping up and down with excitement. ‘I’ll join in!’


The three of them marched off down the road.


‘Can Simon be part of the plan? said Rupert.


‘I suppose so’ said James. ‘But remember its secret’


Rupert went to find Simon and when he did he cupped his hand and whispered something in Simon’s ear. Simons face lit up. He asked his Mum if he could go out to play. Mum said he could as long as he didn’t get into any mischief and with that the four of them set off marching down the road.


Simon spotted Sally sitting by the pond.


‘Look’ he said ‘There’s Sally. Can she be part of the plan?’


What?’ said the other boys all together. ‘But she’s a girl!’

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‘I know’ said Simon ‘but the other day I dared her to pick a bunch of stinging nettles and eat the leaves, and she did! That’s a pretty brave thing for a girl to do’.


The other three went into a huddle. After a lot of nodding and shaking of heads, James told Simon that provided she behaved like one of them she could join in. Simon went over to Sally and whispered in her ear. Sally suddenly started skipping around and making girly squeaking noises.

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‘I think we made have made the wrong decision’ said James ‘but it’s too late now'. Come along guys’ he called and they all started marching in the direction of Farmer Jacobs' barn.


‘Right’ shouted James ‘you all know what we have to do. Off you go and we’ll meet up at the swings in one hour’s time’


‘But how will we know when the hour is up?’ said Rupert ‘I haven’t got a watch.


‘Nor have I protested Sally’

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‘Duh’ bellowed James. ‘What do you think that is up there on the church tower? It’s a clock Dumbos. We meet at a quarter past three. That’s when the big hand points to.................’


‘We know’ the others shouted. We are not that stupid.


‘Is that when the little hand points to six?’ chuckled a sarcastic Tommy.

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At ten minutes past three James took his position sitting on the gate by the swings. One by one Tommy, Simon, Rupert and Sally returned.


‘Sally’ sighed James ‘what’s that for?


‘Simon told me to borrow the farmer’s barrow from the barn’


‘No I didn’t’ cried Simon ‘I told you to borrow the farmers hat from the barn’ That’s what Rupert told me’

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‘I said what?’ laughed Rupert. ‘I didn’t say that. I told you we were to get the hat from the farmer’s scarecrow!’ He popped a straw hat on his head.


‘What are you talking about Rupert? asked Tommy. ‘The plan was to ......’


‘Stop and be quiet all of you’ yelled an angry James. ‘You’ve all ruined my plan. All I wanted you to do was to...’


But he stopped short when he spotted a red faced and very cross looking Farmer Jacobs running towards then waving a rake in the air.

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‘Run guys’ shouted James and they all scurried off in the direction of the village.


I suppose we’ll never know what James’ plan was. Have you got any ideas? Whatever it was I bet it was a good one!

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A quick reminder - the prompt for Carry On Tuesday July 21st is ready and waiting! Click HERE to take a look!

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When your life was low

I don’t know about you, but I find it easier it’s to put my thoughts down in words rather than speak them. I suppose it could be said that writing gives you the chance to go back over what you want to say and if necessary edit or tweak. In my case I rarely do that. Just as I am now, I bash away with one finger on my overworked yet uncomplaining keyboard, and what appears on the screen is exactly what I want to say..

But now and again I hear a song. The melody may be bland, the lyrics simple, but there is something in the piece that conveys my thoughts far more effectively than anything I could write.

I’m sure I’ve bored you silly with my self-pitying rants over the past month, and I had promised myself that I’d try and put everything behind me – on my blog at least. Then I heard this pretty little song that just about sums up my thoughts right now.

It’s a song more associated with the Devine Miss M, but this version by the oddly named Joe Sample and one Lalah Hathaway is one I’m playing over and over.

As ever the words are not exactly poetry, and the tune is hardly memorable but I never tire of it.

I’ve copied the lyrics, but rather than just reading them, click the arrow on the magic tune player below and read as you listen.

Music Playlist at MixPod.com

When your life was low

Always remember my friend,

the world will change again.

And you may have to come back

through everywhere you've been.

When your life was low,

you had nowhere to go.

People turned their backs on you,

and everybody said that you were through.

I took you in, I made you strong again

put you back together.

Out of all the dreams you left along the way,

you left me shining.

Now you're doing well

from stories I hear tell.

You own the world again.

Everyone's your friend.

Although I never hear from you

Still it’s nice to know

You used to love me so

When your life was low

Always remember my friend,

the world will change again.

And you may have to come back

through everywhere you've been.

Will you never learn?

This is a story with no beginning and no end. It’s also a bit gruesome and not for the faint hearted. I don't what it says about the author! You have been warned!

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They stood across the room from each other. The things he'd just said had stunned her into an angry silence. He just stood there glaring at her, his eyes wide and piercing. The only sound she could hear was the tic-toc of the clock, the cur-thump cur-thump of her heart.

She cowered against the wall shaking violently, beads of sweat trickling down her tanned face. She narrowed her eyes and fixed her gaze on him.

He lurched towards her.

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‘Stop right there’ she yelled but still he came closer and closer.
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‘Come one more step’ she shouted, her voice trembling ‘and it will be your last so help me God’

He stopped a few inches from her, raised a finger and pressed it hard against her heaving chest.

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She leapt forward catching him off guard and pushed him with incredible force across the room and into the wall opposite.

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‘Will you never learn?’ she hissed, leaning against him.

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In an instant his eyes bulged. He tried to speak but all he could manage was a choking sound. She took a step back and a satisfied smile broke out on her face.
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She turned to walk towards the door. Before she left she glanced over her shoulder and stood for a moment watching him slowly slide down the wall and onto his knees, leaving behind a smear of blood as he sank.

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She threw the knife onto the floor.

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With a one shaking hand he managed to reach the blade and with the other he grabbed her ankle.

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‘It’s not over yet’ he groaned.
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My fickle friend

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I read this today

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‘Your writing muse, the creative spark that ignites

your imagination. She needs special attention.

Honour your writing muse and watch your work flow’

Mine upped and left me a few weeks ago. It was my fault. Muses are quite possessive creatures and like to have your undivided attention at all times. All the time she has sole occupancy of your mind she is content. She’ll feed you the words that effortlessly and magically appear on your page.

Unfortunately I allowed someone to barge into my life. What happened? My muse started to sulk and made me work a little harder. Then she gave me a few bum-steers which made me write things which I really ought not to have done. When she found the competition overwhelming, she fled.

I assume she was watching from a way off, because when I appeared to distancing myself from the intruder she popped a story into my head. June 27th it was. I remember it well. I posted a story about a toymaker and the comments I received were some of the best I’ve ever had.

But then I started having problems at work and started searching for a new job. Well that was it. I could almost hear her snarling. When she left I seriously though I’d never see her again.

But guess what? I’ve started my new job, the person who meddled with my mind is out of my life and my muse is giving me a second chance. At least I assume she is. After all, I couldn’t come up with this sorry little tale myself, now could I?

The mystery of cricket explained

I wrote once before about sport. An odd subject for me because the mere mention of a sporting event sets me off yawning. I remember saying how strange it was that although most of the world’s most popular sports originated in the UK, when it comes to competing in the world arena we are sadly lacking in expertise and excellence.

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Take for example tennis. It has its roots in Leamington Spa where it was first played in 1872. Last week arguably the greatest tennis tournament in the world ended in Wimbledon, London. When did the Brits last have a champion? Fred Perry in 1936!

But this isn’t really the subject of today’s ramble. I was thinking today about the rules of some of the most followed team sports here in England. The thing is that although many sports have a huge following, many of the fans simply don’t have a clue what’s going on!

Take the two most watched games here, football (soccer to my American friends) and rugby. It’s said that football is a gentleman’s game played by thugs, and rugby is a thugs game played by gentlemen! Again they both kicked off in England – pardon the pun!

Football is fairly easy to follow, but ask the average fan about the ‘off-side rule’ and you’ll get a look of confusion! As for rugby, well if there are rules they are very difficult to decipher. Take a look here and you’ll see what I mean! It’s a pretty rough game where 30 men go into battle with virtually no protective gear, and a squad of 14 reserve players stand by to take the place of the players that are injured and carted off to hospital!

But the most baffling game is cricket. We love it! And the biggest tournament of all is the Ashes. This is the contest which has been slogged out between England and Australia biannually since 1882. England was so disgusted with losing the first match that they said that cricket had died. A cricket ball was burned and the ashes in placed in an urn. Today that little urn is one of the most coveted prizes in world sport.

Right now the 2009 Ashes is taking place and for several days people will be talking about it, even though the games rules are a total mystery to many who follow it!

The reason I’m writing all this is that earlier today I came upon a simplified set of rules written especially for foreigners!

I present it to you now, and I hope that having read it you will be an expert in this dreariest of games!

CRICKET

1. You have two sides in the field. One is in and one is out.

2. Each man that’s in the side that’s in goes out, and when he’s out

he comes in and the next man goes in until he’s out.

3. When they are all out the side that’s out comes in and

the side that’s been in goes out and tries to get those that came in out.

4. Sometimes you get men still out and not out.

5. When both sides have been in and out including the not outs, the game is over.

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..not sure when I'll be writing again!

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I’ve changed my job. It all happened so quickly that I didn’t have time to tell anybody. The thing is I have to go away on an initial training course for a whole week starting tomorrow.

Now I’m not a lap-top kinda guy, so if the hotel in which I’m staying has no computers I can use, then I’ll be incommunicado for a while. Please don’t think I’ve dropped out again.

So before I go I thought I’d just remind you that the new Carry On Tuesday prompt is up. This humble little meme is gaining a couple of new writers each week. If you’ve not yet joined in the fun then click HERE and find out what all the fuss is about!

The other thing I should mention is Roseys blog. She actually wrote a post without my help and I have to say it’s pretty damned good! Just click HERE pic to be magically transported to her strange world!

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A little rhyme!

So you won

Game set and match

Well done

I said you’d win the battle

Not the war

I was wrong

So now I’m on my way

Away from you

Farewell my sweet, so long

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