A question of age? What happened to those winter days what put them all to flight remember mornings crisp and clear that followed starry night Can you recall those icy times the frozen window panes those slides we made along the lane so many snowy games What fun those snowball fights we had despite frost bitten hands in soaking woollen Christmas gloves a present from our Gran's How things have changed since we were young It's not that many years And yet it seems the world's gone mad with PC tears and fears No sliding in the playground lads no ball games are allowed in case you fall and hurt yourselves just stand and shout out loud And girls your screaming's much improved gets louder by the hour I'm fed up with the kids today or am I getting sour?
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Showing posts from January, 2009
Write Minds
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By
Mjke Wood
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Wirral Writers will have a table at the Writers’ Fair, part of the Write Minds event at Nantclwyd y Dre, Castle Street, in Ruthin, on 28th February. The event starts at 11:00 and there will be a number of talks by writers during the day. Day-pass tickets are £5 in advance (Ruthin Library 01824 705274) or can be purchased on the day (but access to all the talks cannot be guaranteed for on-the-day purchases). We have a couple of meetings beforehand, so please come armed with plenty of ideas for attention-grabbing hand-outs and exhibition items. I’ll have more info for you next meeting.
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By
Mjke Wood
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Further to Frank’s quiz last night, what is a runcible spoon? Apparently, it is an invented word. Edward Lear liked the sound of it and he loved to invent words, and used it in a number of his verses. There’s a runcible hat appearing in one of them. But then, decades after his death, definitions began to appear in dictionaries. These days it’s often defined as kind of pickle fork with a sharpened edge and three tines, or as a grapefruit spoon. But it’s nonsense, because when Lear invented the word (or any of his invented words) he never had any intentions of it actually meaning anything. Anyway, as a matter of interest, here’s the full poem: I The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea In a beautiful pea green boat, They took some honey, and plenty of money, Wrapped up in a five pound note. The Owl looked up to the stars above, And sang to a small guitar,'O lovely Pussy! O Pussy my love, What a beautiful Pussy you are, You are, What a beautiful Pussy you are!' II Pussy said to the ...
Party Night Next Friday
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By
Mjke Wood
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Just a reminder to everyone that next Friday (16th) is our Christmas Party night. (Okay, it's a bit late, but we're all writers - we have this innate aversion to deadlines. So bring a small gift for the raffle, some food for the buffet, and be prepared for a killer quizz by yours truly. If you have a seasonal story; something for mid-January (chronic debt might be a good theme at the moment) bring it along, we'd love to hear it. Can't wait. Mike