Date: Monday 28th September 2020 Location: Northwood
Specifically:
WARNING: DEALS WITH MAN EATING SEA-CREATURES WHICH MAY TURN NERVOUS READERS TO JELLY
I should have known. Making jokes about Sean having a swimming pool in the roof of a disused missile silo was going to come back to bite me in the arse. Now, this morning on awakening (or as close to it as I’m likely to get) I draw the curtains and look out of my window into what appears to be a water tank - the sort they use for sharks, dolphins, whales and the remains of people who ignored the advice not to feed them. Puzzled I wonder if perhaps Hymie has slid or been pushed into a mere (never call it a lake in this part of the world) during the night and I’m staring into it’s murky depths. But a sound like a hail of pebbles cannoning off the roof spurred on by a gale force wind tells me I have woken in the midst of a malevolent storm.
CAMERA CLUB
I was pleased to see that the photo’s of Seans military moho that I uploaded to the Facebook Camera club has yielded one or two complimentary comments (no its not a euphemism for ‘it was actually 100s but I’m too modest to say so’) like “very cool” “keep ‘em comin” Including one request for more images! “Dave - anymore military pictures?” Who am I to argue? The only problem is I don’t have any particular interest in the military other than for the aesthetic value of the artefacts so I’m not really overburdened with images. All that springs to mind is the Man-Kat military style motorhome which was recently bought to Sean for a refit. Having said that I did take some military photos on a visit to Russia so I may have a dig through those. USE YOUR NOGGIN
A friend posted this image to Facebook and asked if anyone remembered it (it was shown on TV around the early 1960’s). I certainly remember my mother reading me the books because she told me it was once on TV and I used to ask her to make the BBC put it back on!). It also reminded me of someone else....
Posted to Facebook Sat 3rd Oct 2020...
......Oh aye - Noggin, I remember because the author Oliver Postgate had the same surname as a lodger my parents once threw out for non payment of rent back in the day when you had control over your own property and shiftless, drug addled layabouts had rights which allowed them to move into your house while you were on holiday and tell you to f**k off if you asked them to leave.
This was a bit of an exaggeration because I chose humour over political correctness but there was more to the story of Mr Postgate.
Move to Canklow: Age 7
Following a long illness which culminated in my father losing his job, and with it the means of paying the mortgage, my parents were forced to move into more ‘econmical’ accommodation. Our new address was 131 Rother View Road - bang in the centre of the notorious Canklow estate one of Rotherham’s most notorious areas. It was to be the start of many years of pain and misery especially for my poor mum who bore the brunt of it.
For reasons which I never quite understood the house came with a tenant - Mr Postgate. In my Facebook posting I referred to him as a lodger. In truth I wasn’t sure what he was. All I knew was that he was a surly, overweight and miserable old bugger who looked like the character ‘Wimpy’ out of ‘Popeye’ who would always be on the baboski for burger money “would you be so kind as to loan me a dollar for a hamburger for which I will gladly repay you Tuesday” (I never quite understood why it was a Tuesday) and who would not have looked out of place had he been stripped naked and raised within a colony of wild pigs. Unbeknown to me the community of which we were now a part and which was soon to cause us so much grief and misery was underpinned by a value system that, were those values to be published, would read like a bible of working class culture and a particularly negative and aggressive culture at that. There attitude to life was simplistic. Not in a rustic, agricultural gather and cook your own food kind of way with apple cheeked villagers bidding each other good-day, menfolk doffing their hats to ladies and a deference to authority. No. These were a group of angry, resentful, hateful and belligerent anti-social bullies with a pack mentality towards anyone they perceived as being different. As my family and I were soon to find out. Somewhere along the line Mr Postgate wasn’t there any more. I don’t know what happened - they didn’t evict him thats for sure I just wrote that for comic effect - he just seemed to gradually fade out of our lives until one day he wasn’t there any more.
After his departure I never thought anything more about it. He was a middle aged man with whom I had nothing in common - I don’t remember a single occasion where he engaged in conversation with my parents, my sister or myself. I’m not saying he never did, we were all in the same house after all, it’s just that I don’t recall any conversation that was memorable.
Shortly afterwards I became aware of certain disparaging comments concerning how we had supposedly evicted Mr Postgate “you should be ashamed throwing an old man out of his house” or “oh yes, haven’t you heard they’re the ones who put Mr Postgate out on the street”. To my knowledge not one of these comments were ever made to us directly and I wouldn’t have known how to respond if they were. The idea that anyone in my family could do such a thing was too absurd to contemplate. What I should have been aware of, but was too young and naive to comprehend, was that these comments would have repercussions.
We were doomed from the start if we did but know it. People in Canklow did not take kindly to anyone they perceived as different and they definitely saw us as different. Their lives were characterised by limited interests (namely football, TV especially soaps and Westerns, drinking, hooliganism and petty crime) catch-all phrases, backstabbing and gossip underpinned by a mysogynistic attitude and a twisted value system - be exactly like us or pay the price.
We paid the price.
To be continued........
LUMINOUS MASKS
Well I don't know about you but I feel a need to lighten the load a little after the heavy stuff relating to my childhood and what better way to do it than to feature my dear friend Kat's latest proddy- the luminous mask!! Geddit? Lighten - Luminous? Ah bollox then...
Lets have a look at a snapshot instead..
Handmade Face Mask by Kat Croker, Halloween glow in the dark witches design, 3 Layers of fabric, black lining, Men's Size approx 14cm nose to chin and 22cm across the face.
To purchase click link (underlined) or check out Kats designs on the 'Featured Artists' page
VAN LIFE IS RUBBISH
Well not exactly. It is, as they say, living the dream, maybe with a few nightmares thrown in but then nothings perfect. Things happen from time to time that are outside of our control like accidental damage, unexpected faults and worn parts (a feeling I know well). But many things are very much within our control. Take a look at this picture.
Well done.
It is a sack of crap.
It currently resides at Hymie’s door (Hymie is the pet name of my Hymer motorhome just in case you thought I was referring to an all American moms apple pie loving Homeboy).
When I get within sight of a suitable receptacle, to wit, a litter bin I will toss the sack of crap into it, dust off my hands and return to Hymie. Simples - as they say (or at least those rat faced little rodents do who try to flog us car insurance).
I do NOT do any of the following:
1. Chuck it at the side of a litter bin that is already filled to overflowing.
2. Throw it under a bush
3. Leave it next to a park bench/public seating area
4. Toss it out the driver’s side window
5. Dump it in the sea
6. Throw it over the head of my two timing ex (*no matter how tempting)
I do not do any of these things because I am perfect and a self-righteous and patronising knob.
OR!! Maybe its because our garbage is something we do actually have control over so theres no need to do any of the above.
We are all aware (or should be) of the damage caused by litter; the detrimental effects on wildlife and the environment, not to mention that it just looks awful. But what concerns me is the issue about litter in relation to motorhome owners.People are all too ready to make assumptions. "Look Mabel" someone's chucked a load of beer bottles in front of this lay-by again.It will be the vicar and his wife in that new motor-home that we slag off because we can't afford our own", "Oi you have no right to stick your vehicle on this free motorhome friendly car park with no restrictions on height, time or season! - fed up with you lot taking bloody liberties!" or even "Ewwww look Egbert a soiled nappy it will be the owners of that motorhome that just drove off - I see Beethoven isn't the only one who can produce a substantial movement" and so on.
It will be The UK already has a negative attitude to motorhomes - limited parking facilities, overpriced parks, a total ban in certain areas, no sleeping in vans overnight and so on. To make matters worse many people are all too ready to blame them it's also my belvei that many peopoe are all too ready to blame mtorhomes for In relation to rubbish I’ve lost track of the times I’ve encountered littering being blamed on motorhome owners. This is why it gets my (muck munching) goat when I see litter thrown about. It’s very easy to earn a negative image and very difficult to get rid of it.
*well maybe just once as a birthday treat
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