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The weather in Britain is never just right! Bugbear words that make you want to scream at the TV : “At the end of the day” ... “turned round and said” ... “rolled up their sleeves” ... “hard working families” ... “for the common good” ... “like-minded people” ... Control Issues: Some people should never be given any sort of power, especially on social groups on the internet: Honey before Money ... Saving bees is a no brainer ... But what about saving foxes? and badgers come to that ... Hard to arrive at some rational solution when the issues are complex and immersed in emotional responses and what seems like a deep social class hatred of the “John Peel” frater-nity whose most enjoyed „sport‟ is seemingly thought of by many enlightened liberals to involve terrified wildlife being ripped to shreds by packs of dogs ... WE SEE THROUGH YOU ... Fox hunting does have great PR value. Whenever a govt is in dan-ger of being found out in some misdeed, it‟s a great topic to trot out to misdirect the media storm away from whatever they were getting away with ... STILL true ... You can fool some of the people all of the time, all of the people some of the time but you can’t fool all of the people all of the time ... Don‟t ever take a fence down until you know the reason it was put up. G.K. Chesterton (1874-1936)
FLASH FICTION: Random Words: coconut, pantofle, pleasure, ducks, comprehensive, temperature, mood, chronic, Wednesday Assignment : in the air
A warm welcome awaits. COME to WORKSHOP ... Every Monday 1.30 start Rising Brook Library
www.issuu.com/risingbrookwriters
Assignment: What can you get for 40p? Last Friday I drove to a medieval hall near Welshpool. The house is called ‘Ty Mawr’ which means ‘big house’ in Welsh. It is probably the biggest medieval hall in Britain and in its heyday would have been a very important place. The hall was saved from dereliction by a lottery grant and the Powys Castle estate. Its status of the hall had been so reduced that just before restoration it was a tumbledown cow shed. The hall is complete with the solar at one end and the cattle stall at the other, these have been turned into a kitchen, living rooms and bedrooms. The oak beams are made from whole, mature trees, and if you know where to look the medieval craftsmen’s tool marks can be seen. Once I slept in a bedroom there and spent a lot of time lying in bed just admiring the craftsmanship. The house has a small garden, both the house and garden are open to the public four times a year. I go to these open days dressed in fifteenth century clothing, as do several others. We sleep in the garden overnight and during the day we carry out tasks of the time such as cooking on a fire, leather working, making pot-tery and other similar things. Back to last Friday, the camp had been set up and only Alex and I were left in the garden. The others, who lived locally, had gone home. We sat in the awning of Alex’s tent, looking at the view. The view is wonderful, trees, hedges, fields, you can see no modern intrusions at all. We sat there looking at the green hills and trees, in the growing darkness. There were no modern sounds, no aeroplane, car or tractor noise, not even a mobile phone because there is no signal at Ty Mawr. All we could hear
were sheep, cows and the swifts racing round the trees calling, as many people must have done in the past. Just in front of where we were sitting the road passes the gar-den, a narrow country lane; however, long ago it was the main road between England and Wales. We wondered who the people were who had used the road and thought of the armies that had marched past. Now, just a road with about four cars a day driving along it. We talked about trivial things nothing of any great importance. Small things about our families, friends and what happened at work. We sat there as the sun sank and summer lightning flashed on the hills. The air was warm and as we felt content with the bit of the world we sitting on. A memorable evening, just sitting
still with a friend on a warm summer night costs nothing, certainly less than forty pence and yet worth more than a king’s ransom.
Ty Mawr
5
Gardening Tips for July ... Frances Hartley
The months are passing by so quickly we shall be seeing Christmas cards and
crackers in the shops soon, but we have had no Summer where we could laze in the
garden and listen to the birds and bees yet.
If you have tomatoes in the greenhouse it is wise to give the canes a gentle shake
each day to distribute the pollen as there doesn’t seem to be many bees about. An-
other little reminder for you is it’s a good idea to start giving tomatoes a weekly
feed with a high potash fertilizer such as Tomorite when the young fruit are like
small marbles.
If you are going on holiday and cannot get a friend or neighbour to do any neces-
sary watering for you, you can get drip hoses to connect to the tap to water toma-
toes etc in the greenhouse. Some seep hoses as they also called can be bought to fit
on water tubs rather than the tap. Or another idea is to put a large tub of water with
a piece of very thick string or even rope (not Nylon) dangling with one end in the
tub and the other end trailed through the soil where the tomatoes are. This is not
ideal but will help. Also you should shade the greenhouse and make sure there is
plenty of ventilation to keep the temperature down, but ensure that the windows are
secure in case the wind gets up while you are away. If you place a really wet, drip-
ping, thick towel or small blanket in the bath with a small amount of water in the
bottom as well, house plants that have to be left, can be stood on it. Of course the
pots should be well watered first, and if the bath is not suitable and the kitchen sink
is not in full sun, you can use that instead.
Now is the time to trim conifers and tidy them up. Winter and spring flowering
shrubs should have all been trimmed by now, but Spring flowering perennials that
have finished flowering can be lifted and divided. The whole clump should be up-
rooted and split with the old central piece discarded on the compost heap. When re-
planting the new young pieces they should be well watered to give them a start and
not forgotten if we have a dry spell. Hostas are better divided earlier in the Spring
and things like Polyanths in the autumn, but things like Lupins and Red Hot Pokers
(Kniphophias) should be finishing flowering about now.
Well that’s all for now
Cheerio,
Frances Hartley
Set between the wars in 1923 the plot so
far is set in a hotel on Trentby Island off
a south coast beach frequented by those
celebrities, flappers etc wanting to get
away from it all.
A Jazz Band — Errol Holiday—and floor
show with exotic dancers has arrived, a
Boys’ Summer Camp jamboree is camp-
ing in the grounds as are a group of bon-
kers upper class undesirables in Khaki
Shorts who seem to be planning a coup.
Hotel Bluddschott is under the manage-
ment of the usual suspects the
Bluddschott clan who are into a spot of
brandy smuggling on the side.
French private detective Rooster Pear-
maine, has arrived with his valet Bal-
som Fry and assistant Capt. Hove Brigh-
ton on the trail of a missing romantic
novelist, Christiana Aggott, whose uncle
is something in Special Branch.
Also with an interest in the Khaki Shorts
are members of a communist cell in dis-
guise. These are being monitored for SB
by flying aces Peter Griggles, Mossy and
Windie who unfortunately are espied by
long hoping spinsters Vera and Gloria.
Nigel Bluddschott is nominally in charge
with wife Winifred. Flappers dripping
gems have attracted a Cat Burglar.
NOW ... What are your ideas?
Josephine Baker
image Wikipedia
“ALL THAT
JAZZ”
Won the vote and
will be the next
RBW farce.
DO YOU REMEMBER THE EXHIBITS IN THE MUSEUM IN THE OLD LIBRARY? The humming bird seems to be a much recalled memory ... Well, this is the chap who donated those finds from his travels for the edification of the people of Stafford. And the big question is ... Where are these historical gems now?
Clement Lindley Wragge 1852 - 1922
Clement Lindley Wragge (18 September 1852 – 10 December 1922), was a meteorologist born in Stourbridge, Worcestershire, but moved to Oakamoor, Staffordshire as a child. He set up the Wragge Museum in Stafford following a trip around the world. He was a Fellow of the Royal Geographical So-ciety and in 1879 was elected Fellow of the Royal Meteorological Society. Towards the end of his life, he was interested in Theosophy and spiritualism. After training in law, Wragge became renowned in the field of meteorology, winning the Scottish Meteorological Society's Gold Medal.
He travelled widely and worked for many years in Australia and New Zealand giving lectures in London and India, and was a reliable authority on Australia, India and the Pacific Islands.
Clement Wragge is best remembered for his contributions to meteorology. After one period of residence in Australia where he worked as a surveyor he returned to Britain and founded a weather observatory on Ben Nevis. His subsequent career in Australia involved establishing further mountain top observatories and was meteorologist for the Queensland Government. Wragge has international fame stemming from founding the system of giving names to tropical cyclones. He is honoured as a meteorological pioneer in Australia. A strange memorial to him are two Stiger-Vortex cannons mounted in a park in Charleville survivors of six which Wragge had built. These were used in 1902 at Mt Morgan, in rain making attempts during the peak of the great Federation drought.
From a family of landed solicitors Wragge was of independent means and travelled widely. He visited New Zealand in 1904 lecturing on meteorology and astronomy. A book on the south seas was one result from his travels. He visited New Caledonia, Rarotonga, Raiatea and Tahiti. Later visits in-clude India and Ceylon (1907-08) and Tonga in 1911 (for an eclipse). Some secondary sources cite a visit to Easter Island, Wragge moved to New Zealand in 1908, living in Birkenhead, Auckland from 1910 until his death there in 1922.
He travelled in New Zealand after settling, lecturing on weather and astronomy and by 1915 was including in his lectures material on Easter Island and his speculations on the ancient history of New Zealand
He was a weather forecaster of repute. He lived at No. 8 Awanui Street Birkenhead in Auck-land with an Anglo-Indian partner – who was apparently not his legal wife. They created a tropical garden, Waiata Tropical Gardens, where there was also a meteorological observatory. This was a successor to his garden and observatory in Taringa, Brisbane. Wragge continued scientific lectures via the Wragge Institute and Museum.
Wragge was also a leading spiritualist, describing himself in 1921 as "Minister of the Auckland Spiritual Scientists Church". Spiritualism reportedly received a boost from the first world war as the survivors turned away from established churches. At the time of his death he was working on theo-ries concerning the petroglyphs of Easter Island.
He is buried at Pompallier Cemetery, Glenfield, Anglican Block B Plot 47, in a plot backed by a grove of palms.
Random Words: trust beeswax college smart-phone experimental random infrastructure colour bluff Terry, the new man on the board at Smarty and Co Ltd, the country‟s leading manufacturer of the smartphone, had been to college and came to the job with a whole bunch of new ideas. “We need to take a good look at the entire infrastructure of the company,” he told his colleagues on the design team. ”We should be radical, experimental. People are after something different, not run-of-the mill. We must put distance be-tween us and our competitors. Just bringing out a range of phones in a different colour won‟t cut it. Now I trust you guys to go away and come up with the goods.” His manner was bluff, uncompromising. “Come back with some random suggestions. I‟ll see you back here next week.” Seven days later, the team reassembled, and Geoffrey was singled out for special praise. “Explain your idea”, Terry invited. “Well, this is a smartphone with a difference.” Geoffrey told his colleagues. “It combines a standard handset with a can of beeswax, so you can polish the furniture whilst having a conversation with your best friend or conferring with boss.” “Brilliant! That‟s just the sort of blue sky thinking I was looking for! That is literally a shining example of what I asked for!” Terry applauded.
Assignment : What can you get for 40p? What can you get for 40p? Not a lot, I hear you opine. You may have a few ideas of your own, But first, please listen to mine. A stamp for a letter or card to a friend, Which could make somebody‟s day By letting them know you‟re thinking of them And saying you hope they‟re OK. To someone living on the street 40p could be a big deal. It might go some way to helping them buy A drink and a square meal. To a child, an ice cream or a chocolate bar Can be a real treat. 40p is enough to buy them Something delicious to eat. A tin of dog or cat food Could cost you 40p And could help to feed a homeless pet At an animal sanctuary.
When you‟re up in town and feeling tired Provided you have 40p, Stop off at the church‟s coffee bar For a nice hot cup of tea.
A few pence dropped in a charity box May not seem much to you, But to someone living in Africa It‟s amazing what it can do. The library‟s a great place to spend your cash. You can pick up a bargain book On every subject under the sun So why not go in and take a good look? You could put it in your money box. „Look after the pence,‟ granny said, „And the pounds will look after themselves,‟ If you opt to save it instead. So you see, you really can do some good With quite a modest amount. 40p can make a difference If you know how to make it count.
Shed
There are many dangers
Hidden within the shed
Frightening to strangers
Mind nail above your head
It’s been there for years
Head gauged once or twice
Causing my wife tears
And surprisingly not nice
The shed has a hoe
It’s by rack n wrecker
Pitchforks had me toe
Narrowly missed me pecker
Be careful of the spade
Plus that shovel to
I really must get first aid
For safety of me and you
Beware of the shears
And that acidic cloth
Shears had me ears
Like the great Van Goth
Watch out for the mousetrap
It’s over there in that corner
Plus my corner full of scrap
Well I forgot to Warner
Forgot to mention broom
One with bushy bristles
It’s a broom filled with gloom
And hates it when you whistles
So there you have it
The dangers of the shed
Know this is full of whit
But worse nail, hangs the sled
The Song Of The Dead Rudyard Kipling
Hear now the Song of the Dead -- in the North by the
torn berg-edges -- They that look still to the Pole, asleep by their hide-stripped sledges.
Song of the Dead in the South -- in the sun by their skeleton horses,
Where the warrigal whimpers and bays through the dust of the sear river-courses.
Song of the Dead in the East -- in the heat-rotted jungle hollows,
Where the dog-ape barks in the kloof -- in the brake of the buffalo-wallows.
Song of the Dead in the West -- in the Barrens, the waste that betrayed them, Where the wolverene tumbles their packs
from the camp and the grave-mound they made them;
Hear now the Song of the Dead!
I We were dreamers, dreaming greatly, in the man-
stifled town; We yearned beyond the sky-line where the strange
roads go down. Came the Whisper, came the Vision, came the Power with the Need,
Till the Soul that is not man's soul was lent us to lead. As the deer breaks -- as the steer breaks -- from the
herd where they graze, In the faith of little children we went on our ways. Then the wood failed -- then the food failed -- then
the last water dried -- In the faith of little children we lay down and died.
On the sand-drift -- on the veldt-side -- in the fern-scrub we lay, That our sons might follow after by the bones on the
way. Follow after -- follow after! We have watered the root, And the bud has come to blossom that ripens for fruit!
Follow after -- we are waiting, by the trails that we lost,
For the sounds of many footsteps, for the tread of a host. Follow after -- follow after -- for the harvest is sown:
By the bones about the wayside ye shall come to your own!
When Drake went down to the Horn
And England was crowned thereby, 'Twixt seas unsailed and shores unhailed Our Lodge -- our Lodge was born
(And England was crowned thereby!) Which never shall close again
By day nor yet by night, While man shall take his life to stake
At risk of shoal or main (By day nor yet by night).
But standeth even so As now we witness here,
While men depart, of joyful heart, Adventure for to know (As now bear witness here!)
II We have fed our sea for a thousand years
And she calls us, still unfed, Though there's never a wave of all her waves But marks our English dead:
We have strawed our best to the weed's unrest, To the shark and the sheering gull.
If blood be the price of admiralty, Lord God, we ha' paid in full!
There's never a flood goes shoreward now But lifts a keel we manned;
There's never an ebb goes seaward now But drops our dead on the sand -- But slinks our dead on the sands forlore,
From the Ducies to the Swin. If blood be the price of admiralty, If blood be the price of admiralty,
Lord God, we ha' paid it in!
We must feed our sea for a thousand years, For that is our doom and pride, As it was when they sailed with the ~Golden
Hind~, Or the wreck that struck last tide --
Or the wreck that lies on the spouting reef Where the ghastly blue-lights flare. If blood be the price of admiralty,
If blood be the price of admiralty, If blood be the price of admiralty,
Lord God, we ha' bought it fair!
These adverts really annoy me. They are shouting 'back to school' before this school year has ended. Back to School, Back to School! Shout the posters on the door. The Summer Term not over yet, These adverts such a bore. Let there be just one year This nonsense is removed. We all know where to go For school outfitters approved. Let the kids be little kids, A whole six weeks of fun, Forget the uniform, Shorts and t-shirt in the sun. Back to school kit in July, Who will be impressed? Clothes bought to grow into Never look their best. It’s time this foolish business Was given the heave-ho, And when it’s Christmas-time in August, I really don’t want to know!
Most people love trees.
People have some sort of emotional
connection to them.
Most people would rather plant a tree
than see one felled.
In Hesketh Road by the library there is a
row of mature
trees standing between the
roadside and the blocks of derelict council
flats due for demolition.
Will these trees be saved?
Or, will developers fell them without
a second thought?
The picture is one of my own cows who had hidden herself to give birth and we found her when the calf had just got up for
the first time and suckled.
The cow that carries its own fence
There has been a picture in the papers about a young bullock with his head stuck in a ladder, and that reminds me of what father used to do to a beast that would keep getting out. In the days before electric fences, it would be post and rail fencing and sometimes barbed wire along the hedgerow boundaries of the fields. Hedges would
be layered about every ten of fifteen years, a section being done each year as and when needed. It was in the hedge that was perhaps wanting laying that gaps would start to appear, and most often there
would be at least one in the herd that when its head pushes through a gap then pushes completely through making it difficult to keep them in no matter how you try to block the holes in the hedge. Milking cows have always been tied up by the neck with a cow chain for years; well father had a spare chain
about in his workshop, and also about the yard was a pole about six foot long. He matched the two together by bolting the chain to the centre of the pole, the exact fulcrum so it balanced reasonably level when hung round a beast’s neck in the field.
They got a bit upset initially but soon got used to walking with the pole swinging about in front of them and grazed quite happily with the pole laying on the ground dragging as they stepped forward around the field.
When they tried to walk through the gap in the hedge only to realise that they were carrying a pole that formed a mobile fence in front of them. Another annoying beast can be the one that suckles the milk from the lactating cows, a beast that had been
weaned a year or more ago and has realised that it can cross suckle any cow that will stand still for her. Back in our workshop is a wooden anti-suckling plate made by the village wheelwright out of a bit of elm plank six by
four inch, it had been cleverly cut out to fit in the nose. It had almost to be tyre levered into the nose and due to the shape of the tips of the fingers of wood stayed in day and night. The only thing a beast wearing this plate could not do is drink from the treadle water bowls in
the cowsheds. Another one I saw was one similar to the one described above by this time had three or four nails driven through it so as to prickle the cow as she tried to suck. The more up to date ones are made of alu-
minium with a thumb screwed adjustable fingers to grip in the nose also a row of sharp spikes round the front. These are a bit flimsy and a tendency to get lost.
The first Monday of the month, and it‟s time for the July edition of re.Lit which comes storming to you across the internet with another eclectic mix of poetry, song, spoken word, drama and com-ment at www.radiowildfire.com. This month Brenda Read-Brown casts her poetic eye over festivals - the title Assault might just give a clue to the content. We‟ll also have work recently uploaded via our „Submit‟ page from Cynthia Morrison (USA); Dave Migman a track from a 23 track LP called "In The Fine Night We Marched" which is newly available on Bandcamp and others. Tracks from our extensive ar-chives by Frances Livings; The Little Typists; Stephanie Spears; Sarah James; Savaran & Traiskin; Mark Goodwin; Julie Boden and Steve Tromans; and more. You‟ll hear The MacGuffin, a story from Peter Beeson – have you got one? There‟ll be a wonderful satire on the art world and a great period romp all in the same script with Bunbury Banter Theatre Com-pany’s production of Hell Hath No Fury, a play by Bruce Shakespeare. And not to forget the tracks from cds we‟ll be including. The show is presented as always by poet and performer Dave Reeves.
Join us: Monday 6th July from 8.00 pm UK time at www.radiowildfire.com Radio Wildfire: an eclectic storm on a hot July night re.Lit Live! is produced by Vaughn Reeves with backroom support from Ali McK. Why not send your own tracks to Radio Wildfire by going to the ‘Submit’ page of our website and uploading MP3s of your work. Spoken word and music, comedy, storytelling, poetry, song and aural art, they are all part of the eclectic mix we are looking for when we create Radio Wildfire Live!
Follow Radio Wildfire on Twitter @radiowildfire WHAT IS RADIO WILDFIRE? Radio Wildfire is an independent online radio station which blends spoken word, poetry, perform-ance literature, comedy, storytelling,short stories and more with a novel selection of word/music fusion and an eclectic mix of musical styles. www.radiowildfire.com broadcastslive 8.00-10.00pm (UK time) on the first Monday of every month, OR listen to Radio Wildfire at www.radiowildfire.com where The Loop plays 24 hours a day. Twitter @radiowildfire
British Nostalgia: films of
everyday life posted online July 2015
10,000 film and TV clips from 1895 to nowadays
are being digitised (National Lottery
Funding and grant from the Esmée Fairbairn
Foundation). Thousands of films depicting life in
Britain over the last 120 years have been posted
online.
“Britain on Film” a project of the British Film Institute (BFI), will provide a snapshot of every-
day life and some of the film clips will be free. The clips include: Butlins in Clacton, 1946; a
Felixstowe wedding, 1935; West Bromwich Albion, 1963; a documentary of the Yorkshire Post;
an Essex fire, 1914 and Margate, 1930.
Footage from this online archive of social history from the Britain on Film project is available at
BFI Player
The theme for the RBW
2016 Poetry
Collection will be
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Latest Competitions: Elbow Room Inaugural Competition | Closing Date: 16-Aug-15 http://www.poetrylibrary.org.uk/competitions/?id=1781 Resurgence Poetry Prize 2015 | Closing Date: 01-Nov-15 http://www.poetrylibrary.org.uk/competitions/?id=1780 Fair Acre Poetry Pamphlet Competition 2015/16 | Closing Date: 30-Nov-15 http://www.poetrylibrary.org.uk/competitions/?id=1787
The Magic Oxygen Literary Prize 2015 | Closing Date: 31-Dec-15 http://www.poetrylibrary.org.uk/competitions/?id=1782
3rd Ó Bhéal Five Words International Poetry Competition | Closing Date: 31-Dec-15 http://www.poetrylibrary.org.uk/competitions/?id=1785
Latest News: Poetry Magazines Received in June 2015 | 09-Jul-15 http://www.poetrylibrary.org.uk/news/library/?id=1356 Poetry Comics exhibition extended | 08-Jul-15 http://www.poetrylibrary.org.uk/news/library/?id=1355 Poetry International 2015 | 08-Jul-15 http://www.poetrylibrary.org.uk/news/poetryscene/?id=1354
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