To Sum It All Up Then.......

To sum it all up then.....it's not been a great year, has it?  When you think about Iraq, Pakistan, Afghanistan, Syria and Palestine there's two things that strike me.  The first is the terrible atrocities which continue to happen there (which I feel I can do absolutely nothing about), and the second is the two-faced, self-serving, prevaricating, dithering, hand-wringing way in which "the West" continues to behave.  The UN has become a total joke.  The grounds on which "interventions" in these conflicts are made (or not made), and the weasel words which are used to "explain" these decisions, are frankly unbelievable.  Rarely is it about logic or humanity or morality.  Usually it's about politics, or economics, or national advantage.

The US has lost any credibility it might ever have had for world "leadership".  Just look at what it allows to happen in its own back-yard - the destructive two-party politics, its economic crash-and-burn approach to life, the neglect of people on its own streets, its lack of proper medical care for the poor & under-privileged, its monumentally stupid gun laws.

Bankers?  The Press?  The Rich? The Politicians?  They all continue to make it a shitty time to be alive. They do not deserve our respect, nor should they be allowed to continue to talk & behave the way they do.

What to do about it?  Recognise it.  Understand it. Interpret it into real language & decode the spin. Realise that these people are unlikely to behave any better unless we all work, day by day, in our own little way to stop them.  Challenge what they say.  Confront them.  Ask hard questions.  Vote with your feet and your spending power.  Indulge in your own random acts of kindness, decency and straight talking.  But above all - don't let the bastards grind you down!

A Happy and Kinder New Year to All................Andy

News From Bromham - Dateline Sunday 30th December 2012

Bulletin From Bromham: Dateline – 30^th December 2012

Here is our weekly round-up of events from Bromham:

·       There were several surprises in this New Year’s Queen’s Honours List. Politicians, community workers and sports-persons were amongst those honoured.  Leader of Bromham Parish Council and the Field Land-Owners’ Party (FLOP),  becomes Sir Dave Wentwrong, for his services to local schmoozing.  He joins his brothers, several cousins, and his sisters and his aunts in being honoured, but denied that his sister’s role as the Queen’s Lady-In-Waiting had anything to do with it.  The irascible manager of Bromham Casuals, Benny Dogleash, becomes an MBE (Member of the Bromham Extroverts).

·       In his New Year message to the electorate of the Parish, leader of the Carrot-Rooters Action Party (CRAP), Ted Willybanned, gave his forecast for the local economy.  He forecasts doom and gloom, and lays the blame for this situation squarely at the feet of FLOP. He claims that CRAP would do much better than FLOP. In response, FLOP claimed that CRAP were talking crap, and that their fiscal policies would be a flop.

·       On the Bromham Broadcasting Corporation (BBC), the results of the Bromham Sports Personality of the Year were announced.  This year’s winner, for the tenth year in a row, was Bromham Casuals’ star striker Dwayne Mooney.  Mooney was not able to pick up his award in person, due to a previous engagement at Her Majesty’s Pleasure (apparently a nightclub in Swindon), but sent a pre-recorded video message, in which he thanked the people of Bromham for their votes, and played down claims that the only reason he had won had been due to the fact that there were no other sports personalities in Bromham.

·       And finally, we would like to wish all our seven readers a Happy New Year.

·       For details of these and all other Bromham stories, don’t forget to listen to local radio station Carrot FM.

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2012

Grilled Chicken with a Dipping Sauce

Recipe for: Grilled CHICKEN with CHILLI/ CORIANDER DIPPING SAUCE 

Ingredients: 

• 4 chicken breasts, skinless
• Salt & pepper
• For the marinade:
• 4 fl oz olive oil (or toasted sesame oil)
• 2 bay leaves
• 1 tblsp finely chopped fresh coriander leaves
• 1 clove garlic, peeled & very finely chopped
• For the dipping sauce:
• Juice 1 lemon
• ½ red or green chilli, de-seeded and very finely chopped (or more if you like it hot)
• 1 spring onion, white & green parts, very finely chopped
• ½ tsp sugar
• 1 tblsp light soy sauce

Method: 

1. flatten the chicken breasts & lay them out in a dish large enough to take them all
2. blend the marinade ingredients in a small bowl, then pour over the chicken and ensure that it is well coated.  Leave to marinate in the fridge for at least an hour
3. in another bowl, mix the dipping sauce ingredients & set aside
4. heat the grill until it is very hot, then grill the chicken breasts for 10 minutes or so, turning occasionally, until cooked through
5. on a clean chopping board, slice the chicken breasts into strips and pile onto a warmed serving plate
6. garnish with fresh coriander leaves & serve with the dipping sauce

What else you need to know: 

1. this is delicious on its own, or served with chinese noodles or boiled rice

 

White-Out

White-out

I wakened to whiteness -

Oh, not to carpets of snow

That cover and soften every surface

Hiding all the details

But to the thickest, hardest frost

That some winter wizard had painted

Or sprayed as an icy dusting

Delicately along every single twig

And every blade of grass 

Absolute stillness

Not a creature moving

In this changed and silent world

Of monochrome black and white

The leafless branches of trees

Dark sticks, dry and brittle

Frozen silhouettes

Crystalline shapes

Rimed in frost

Their features sharp and jagged

By the coldest hardness

And the clear glassiness of ice 

The faintest moisture left in the air

Floating silken gossamer strands

Vague and misty

Thin clouds of a snowman’s breath

Exhaled upon the scene

The distant sky hazy

Almost white itself

Blending with the earth

A dissolved horizon

An under-exposed frame

The under-developed picture

Of a colourless world

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2012

Post-Natal Depression (Thank God It's All Over)

Post-Natal Depression

They’ve all gone back to work,

And the kids are back at school.

Here I am in the middle of all the mess,

Clearing up like a bloody fool. 

And as I look around & survey the site,

In the fireplace there’s a fall of soot,

An empty sherry glass & mince-pie crumbs,

And a mark where Santa placed his foot. 

The carrots we left for his reindeer,

Have been quite nibbled away,

But the droppings on the carpet,

I think is a price too high to pay. 

There’s paper wrap & discarded boxes,

Where presents were pulled out in their haste,

Played with for half an hour,

Before joining the rest of the waste. 

There’s food left over in the kitchen,

And I think I’m starting to droop.

If I have to eat one more leftover sprout,

Or face another bowl of turkey soup. 

The Christmas tree is looking all forlorn,

As its needles drop upon the floor,

And get blown around the house,

Every time someone opens a door. 

We’ve started our own recycling skip,

With empty bottles of every sort.

It’s not just the beer & the mixers,

But the gin, the vodka and port.

We’ve watched all of the Christmas specials

They put on the box this time of the year.

Shame they can’t do it the rest of the season,

Instead of the usual rubbish so drear. 

We’ve sent home the old relatives

Those aged wonderful old dears.

Now it’s time to take down the greetings cards,

From people we’ve not seen in years. 

We’ll take down the lights that cover the house.

Our neighbours think that we’re soft.

Yes, we’ll pack up the baubles & lights,

And put them all back in the loft. 

The sparkle’s all gone from the occasion,

All the drinking & eating & that.

They’ve stopped playing Christmas records on the radio:

At least we can be thankful for that.

Now the shops are full of bargains,

The stuff they just couldn’t shift.

Now’s a good time to stock up for next year,

With every possible gift. 

I know it’s been quite enjoyable at times,

But now that it’s over for another year,

I’m seeking to get some normality.

So I’ll see you – I’m off down the pub for a beer. 

Then I’m off to the dump with the recycling,

But I won’t be coming back in a hurry.

I’m not looking forward to dinner -

It’s turkey & cranberry curry.

 

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2012

Drowning In Five Inches Of Water

Drowning In Five Inches Of Water

A telephone ringing

Down in the hall

Takes but a moment to answer

But an absence of minutes

From a play-time in the bath

Creates a long, empty space of waiting

Of wanting you

Of needing you to come back

And time enough for her

To slide slowly down

Soft and slippery

Soapy from the bubbles

From the clear air above

To a short watery rest

Below the surface

Beneath the noise

The quiet, calm nothingness

And to breathe the warm liquid

For just enough time

To fall asleep forever

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2012

News From Bromham - Dateline Sunday 23rd December 2012

Bulletin From Bromham: Dateline – 23^rd December 2012

Here is our weekly round-up of events from Bromham:

·       Life in Bromham carried on as usual, after it turned out that the ancient Trowbridge Prediction, that the world would end in Wiltshire on Friday last, turned out to be false.  Ancient documents bearing hieroglyphic script, which had been found in the county town several years ago, and had been interpreted as being the calendar of a long-extinct people, turned out to be merely some old Council Minutes which had been left out in the rain by accident.

·       A row has broken out between PC Plodge, who occasionally patrols the village streets, and the secretary of the Bromham Parish Council, who tried to leave his bicycle outside the Social Centre last week.  The Clerk denies swearing at the PC, or calling him a “total twat” or indicating that he should “know his place”.  The PC claims that the Clerk was abusive, and that he was about to commit an offence by chaining his bicycle to a non-approved fence-post.  A large crowd, who happened to be passing by at the time, cheered both sides in turn as the “conversation” developed.

·       And a MERRY CHRISTMAS to all our faithful leaders.  Try and enjoy it, even if means a diet of over-cooked turkey, tired old “specials” on the TV, transport breakdowns & hold-ups, and a seemingly random approach to opening times and transport timetables for about two weeks.  And if you see a bloke dressed in red up on your roof – it’s not Santa Claus.  It’ll be a burglar.  Yo-ho-ho.

·       For details of these and all other Bromham stories, don’t forget to listen to local radio station Carrot FM.

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2012

Horses In The Field

Galloping

A flash of flanks and fetlocks

Horses running free within the paddock

The grass beaten and churned

Into sodden ground

By thumping, pounding hooves

As they wheel away

Their heads held high and proud

Distended nostrils

And teeth exposed

Manes flowing in the breeze

Chasing along the fencing rails

At first a trembling trot

Building to a gentle canter

Before breaking into gallops

Legs and backs bent to the task

Of increasing speed

Right across the field

Driven by the memories

Of former glory days of racing

And the dash along the final furlong

Now free of reins and saddles

And high-seated, whipping jockeys

But allowed to frolic unrestrained

Driven by sheer exuberance

Into an ecstasy of careering

Running round their circuit

Only pulling up at last

To catch their breath

When good and ready

And shambling over to the gate

To scrounge a proffered apple

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2012

Bedtime

Bedtime

A careful journey through the house

Starts with the regular routine

The easy things at end of day

Of switchings-off, and shuttings-down

Of locks and bolts and doors

And the silences that quickly fall

Within the lounge and in the kitchen 

Then heading for the staircase

And the reluctant nightly climb

Towards the empty, darkened corridor

That harbours brooding shadows

And perhaps conceals an unseen something

Now trying to hold back a creeping fear

And the mounting tension

Engendered by an empty house

And too many nights of loneliness 

Fumbling round the corner of the wall

With a trembling, groping hand

Seeking out the elusive switch

That will illuminate the feeble bulb

And banish darkness

From the space along the landing

And the hurried steps

Echoing against the plaster walls

Towards the master bedroom

Past the other door, her door

The one that never opens now

And diving quickly into the empty bed

To banish this unwanted fear

This irrational paranoia

And to try to fall sleep

Yet again alone

 

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2012

Parsnip Soup with Cumin & Parsnip Crisps

Recipe for: PARSNIP SOUP WITH CUMIN & PARSNIP CRISPS

Ingredients: 

• 2 tblsp olive oil
• 1 large onion, peeled & very finely chopped
• 1 tblsp cumin seeds
• 1 red chilli, deseeded & very finely chopped
• 2 cloves garlic, peeled & very finely chopped
• 600g parsnips, peeled & cut into chunks
• 1 parsnip, peeled & very finely sliced (for the crisps)
• 1 litre vegetable stock
• Juice & finely grated zest of 1 lemon
• 2 sprigs fresh thyme
• 150ml fresh cream
• Salt & pepper

Method: 

1. heat the oil in a large pan & fry the onion, cumin seeds, chilli & garlic for five minutes, stirring until softened
2. add the parsnips, stock, lemon juice & zest & thyme & bring to a simmer
3. cover & simmer for 20 minutes until the parsnips are soft
4. blend until smooth
5. stir in the cream, salt & pepper and warm through
6. meanwhile make the parsnips crisps: heat enough sunflower oil in a deep pan to allow for deep frying
7. when the oil is hot, fry the parsnip slices in batches until crisp.  Drain on kitchen paper
8. serve the soup garnished with the crisps

Reasons To Be Worried

Reasons To Be Worried

It doesn’t pay to be too optimistic,

In this life that’s already grey and dull,

Because you’re bound to be disappointed,

If you think that the glass is half full. 

Let me tell you some of my reasons,

For this position I’m knowing on:

If you believe all in the garden’s rosy,

Then you’ve no idea what’s going on! 

Let’s start with lying politicians,

Who seem to want to make it their mission,

To convince us we’re all in it together,

And to believe in their coalition. 

There’s Cameron and that chap Osbourne,

And I respectfully ask leave to beg,

If we have to have the pair of them,

What’s the point of that other chap Clegg? 

And Labour these days are not up to much,

They let the unions get out of hand,

And one other thing that’s bothering me -

How many Milibands make up a Centiband? 

Insurance companies, loss adjusters,

Estate agents and also the bankers,

Astrologers and charlatans all,

But for careful rhyming you can thank us. 

Network Rail works at the speed of a snail,

London Underground has never been sound,

And you’ll find First Great Western’s no better,

On the Trainline all you get is the run-around. 

Jehovah’s Witnesses and the Mormons,

The Moonies and Christian Scientists,

The English Defence League out on the streets,

Prepared to settle arguments with fists. 

Duchy Originals and other such brands,

With marketing hype and all that filler,

In fact anything sponsored by the Royals,

Especially that Charles and Camilla.

United States’ foreign policy,

The FBI and the CIA,

Sedition, rendition, water-boarding,

And Mitt Romney – well, what can I say? 

Famine in Africa, war in Sudan,

Dictators, despots and hard tales of torture,

There’s Israel, Gaza and Palestine,

Problems seemingly without any cure. 

Global warming and climate-change deniers,

Earthquakes, tsunamis and volcanoes,

Ice-cap shrinkage and some species extinct,

What are we to make of all those? 

And back in the UK we’ve got recession,

Fiscal probity, economic cut-backs,

Changes in benefits, VAT,

No lending or mortgages, income tax! 

Celebrities, “TOWIE” and Jedward,

Reality shows and make-over shows,

How long can the search go on for talent?

With X-Factor and Strictly, God alone knows. 

One day it’ll all mash up into just one,

And what’s left of this Island Nation,

Will watch Flog It In The Attic Challenge,

Revisited In The Country Location.

Brits will never win at Wimbledon,

It’s obviously just not in our genes,

We’re a nation of under-dogs I guess,

Always the runners-up – that’s what it means. 

Extended warranties, the list goes on and on,

There’s always a sale at Land of Leather

And as if all that weren’t quite enough,

We’ve got the bloody English weather!

 

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2012

Man Wanted For Questioning

Man Wanted For Questioning

Police this morning took the unusual step of issuing a detailed description of a man they wish to interview in connection with a wide range of serious offences. 

The suspect is described as being of below average height, and of stout build, bordering on the obese.  He bears a great deal of facial hair, white in colour, consisting of moustache, full whiskers and a long flowing beard.  This may have the effect of partially disguising his facial features, which are said to consist of:

·         Twinkling, sparkly eyes;

·         Glowing, almost red, nose and a

·         Jovial grin, showing white teeth;

He is known to dress in a very recognisable outfit, which may include:

·         A bright red, two-piece suit, trimmed with white fur;

·         A matching red hat, also white-trimmed, tapering to a point with a white pom-pom;

·         A pair of black snow-boots, with trousers tucked in;

·         Black leather belt, tightly cinched at the waist;

·         A pair of wire-framed spectacles;

·         A bulging sack, carried over the left shoulder. 

He is often seen wearing a broad grin, and is reported to frequently utter such phrases as “Ho, ho, ho!”, “Have you been good this year?” and “What can I do for you little girl?” 

The suspect is wanted in virtually every country in the world.  Interpol have revealed that he is a global criminal, and uses many aliases and different identities to avoid detection and capture.  These include:

·         Kris Kringle

·         Santa Claus

·         Saint Nicholas

·         Father Christmas

·         and Sinterklaas 

He is thought to be of North Pole extraction, although his exact nationality is not known.  He has been reported to travel without a passport, crossing international frontiers undetected and with complete impunity.  His criminal associates include:

·         reputed “magic” elves, but also

·         pixies and

·         dwarves 

He travels worldwide, using a high-speed sleigh (registration mark unknown), propelled by a number of reindeer, who go by such names as Rudolph, Donner, Blitzen, Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet and Cupid, although these too are thought to be mere aliases. 

Inspector Foot, of The Yard, stated:  “this is a very dangerous man, and he should not be approached by members of the general public.  Any sightings should be reported directly to the police, who will deal with the matter.  He is wanted in connection with a variety of crimes including:

·         paedophilia – he has been observed “grooming” small children, by offering them sweets and small presents, encouraging them in close, intimate contact by sitting them on his knee, inviting them to put their hands into his “sack” to pull out a goody, and by visiting them in schools, hospitals and children’s parties.  Through his so-called “charity” work, he has been given unfettered access to the bedrooms of small, sleeping children, where he has been free to carry on his sickening activities in comparative secrecy;

·         housebreaking and burglary – he has been reported entering a wide range of private houses without permission from the householder.  His specialism, and trade-mark, is in forcing an entrance by way of the chimney to the property;

·         fraud and deception – goods and services have been ordered from him, which have either never been delivered at all, or have been delivered in a different specification to that required.  When customers have attempted to contact this Mr Claus, no phone-number or business address has been discovered.  Mail sent to Mr Claus at The North Pole has been returned unopened;

·         Health & Safety and Industrial Relations violations – his workshops near the North Pole have been discovered to exploit elvic workers by paying less than the minimum wage, by denying rest-breaks to elves, and by operating these workshops under sweatshop conditions during certain seasons of the year, especially September to December, then laying workers off without pay in the January period;

·         Animal cruelty – his nine reindeer are reported to have been driven around the globe for long periods without a rest, pulling extremely heavy loads through appalling weather conditions; 

Inspector Foot added:  “we would very much like to talk to this man.  He is known to go to ground for nine or ten months of the year, but usually makes a sudden rush of appearances around the Christmas period, when we are often inundated with sightings.  Our job has been made that much harder by the recent phenomenon of members of the public dressing up in imitation of the suspect.  However, I cannot stress strongly enough that this man is not a charming, quaint, folk-lore hero.  He is a vicious international criminal intent on spreading his particular blend of “tidings of great joy”. 

A large reward, consisting of £500 of Comet vouchers, has been offered for any information leading directly to this man’s capture.

 

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2012

More Alternative Xmas Rhymes

God rest ye merry shoppers,

Let nothing you dismay.

Remember, Sales, our saviours,

Start before the Christmas day. 

To save us all from credit's power,

When we have gone astray.

O tidings of comfort and joy,

Comfort and joy,

O tidings of comfort and joy.

 

Crawling through Devizes,

With a one-horse open dray,

Through the streets we go,

Delivering Wadworths for Christmas day. 

Jingle bells, jingle bells,

Jingle all the way,

Oh what fun it is to ride

Down the slopes on an old tea-tray.

 

Silent night, holy night,

All is calm, all is bright.

Through yon window, go two local hoods,

Wholly intent to steal all your goods.

You know they don’t give a hoot,

Sell them at the car boot.

 

Once in Royal Marlborough’s city,

Stood a lowly public school,

Where a parent sent her baby,

To see if he was a fool.

But he found it quite a breeze,

To say nothing of the fees.

 

Wally, wally!

At the first punch-up over Christmas, he was a Wally.

For the wally bears a tattoo,

And a ear-ring that’s made of gold,

He’s the hardest man round here, or so I am told.

 

The twelve things of Christmas which are such a pain to me:

• Twelve tuneless Christmas carols,
• Eleven stale TV specials,
• Ten "Batteries Not Included",
• Nine No Parking signs!
• Eight Charities collecting!
• Seven round for dinner!
• Six pies a-mincing!
• Five months of bills!
• Four days of drinking!
• Three santas fighting!
• Too much Christmas pudding,
• And finding a bloody Christmas tree.