Bargains

Bargains

Gathered in this muddy field

Cold Sunday morning, sun hardly risen

Crooked lines of vehicles

Cars, pick-ups, estates and vans

Doors and tailgates gaping

Spilling out boxes and bags

Onto sheets, tables and trestles

Flotsam and jetsam, jumble and junk,

Bits and pieces, prize possessions,

Rubbish and tat, tipped out from attics,

Sheds, cupboards, corners and garages

Wares, unwanted old objects,

Superfluous to modern living

A mess tumbled out for inspection

Discards on display to casual view

Hand-written signs and tickets

Regulars, traders and dealers,

The old hands, with money-belts,

Warm coats, gloved fingers,

Plastic bags and pockets of change,

The first-timers all over the place

Children running amok in the chaos,

Disorganised, descended-on and picked over,

Hoping to make a few bob, at least to cover the petrol,

Before wearily packing up

And taking most of it back home again

And the punters just out for a laugh

Reviewing, rarely buying

Casually hunting for bargains

Inspecting gold, silver, copper and brass,

Vintage, antique, restored and re-pro,

Disputing provenance and price

Haggling over pennies

Cheaper on eBay they’ll swear

Bargaining and bartering

Walking away from the vendors

Letting them stew on a best offer

Called back and concluding a sale

Before heading to the car-park with their booty

And a well-earned decent breakfast

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2013

Cancer Sticks

Cancer Sticks

Eyes hooded against the rising smoke

Curling, swirling around

Fingers cupped, cradling precious embers

Huddling together outside the doorway

Inhaling deeply

Lungs expanding

Taking the hit

Shivering with cold

Envious of warmer company

And half-drunk beers waiting inside

Nestling in pockets and hands

Perfectly packaged poison

White tubes, their fine filters aligned

Thin threads of tobacco

Neatly cut and shaped

Awaiting their turn for ignition

To deliver their payload

Of nicotine, toxic tar

And complex chemical compounds

Persistent chesty cough, wheezy laugh

Ash-tray aroma of discarded dog-ends

Reeking clothes and sour-smelling breath

Burnt-out, tortured taste-buds

Small price to pay for a short-term fix

Of this, their drug of choice

The death’s head staring

Glaring skull and crossbones

With its oft-ignored warning

Against this unhealthy habit

And the guilty pleasure of the addicted

Now these hospital wards

Their beds white and aligned

Oxygen cylinders and masks waiting

Provide welcome to the punters

The smokers and chokers

Grasping sheets, gasping to breathe

Desperate to inflate, if just a little

The shattered remnants

Of their failing bronchia

Glassy-eyed, hollow-cheeked

Staring into middle distance

Dulled by palliative pain relief

They dream of the old space outside

And the chance of one last cigarette

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2013

Fracking Hell

Fracking Hell

The search for cheap energy goes on,

A quest that’s certainly got my backing,

But now they’ve come up with a new wheeze,

That involves a fine process called fracking.

Now I’m not so sure this is a good ploy -

Bad consequences may come to pass,

As they begin to hack open the Earth,

In the relentless pursuit of cheap gas.

They dig down deep into the planet,

Seeking deposits that lie under the ground,

Pumping in chemicals under great pressure,

Forcing out the shale gas that they’ve found.

Now this scheme sounds too good to be true.

And there’s no environmental free ride -

There’s bound to be a cost to be paid somewhere,

And we should consider the possible down-side.

There’s arguments and evidence on both sides,

The scientists are not sure how they should guide us,

But the energy firms frack on regardless,

Of the strong feelings that divide us.

Cuadrilla seem to be riding rough-shod

Over protests, and giving no quarter,

But how do we know what goes on beneath?

And that they’re not polluting the water?

And what about earth-tremors we’re feeling?

Is it an earthquake they’ve left in their wake?

With their drilling, and splitting, and pumping,

Is it more than the geology can take?

And isn’t fossil fuels all over again?

Like the coal and oil story repeated,

Putting off the inevitable day,

When the resource will be finally depleted?

We can’t go on like this forever,

Stealing from future generations,

When the planet is finally exhausted,

And goes on to Emergency Stations. 

No, I’m afraid that this fracking,

This cracking and hacking,

The future it’s hijacking,

And the gas that it’s ransacking,

Cannot continue.

It’s them, not the Earth, we should send packing,

The exploiters we should be sacking,

And looking what else we could do.

We must cease all the toil,

Going on under the soil,

Stop making the ground boil,

And the landscape to despoil.

This breaking and taking can’t last for ever:

Fracking’s just more exploitation.

I’m not sure what it’s doing to the planet,

But it’s clearly splitting the nation.

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2013

Christmas Cake

Well, it's that time of year. Last night of the Proms on Saturday means the onset of Autumn - "season of mists and mellow fruitfulness".  Where I come from that means it's about time to make the Christmas Cake.  It has to have enough time to mature, and to be fed with the alcohol of your choice.  All good things take time.  Anyhow - here's the recipe.

Recipe for: CHRISTMAS CAKE

Ingredients:

• 1 lb currants
• 8 oz raisins
• 1 lb sultanas
• 6 oz mixed peel
• 4 oz glace cherries
• 4 oz shelled almonds (optional)
• 10 oz butter, warm or softened
• 10 oz caster sugar
• 6-8 eggs
• 12 oz self-raising flour (or plain + 1 tsp baking powder)
• Pinch salt
• 2 tsps mixed spice
• Grated rind of one lemon
• Juice of one lemon
• Splash of milk or buttermilk

 Method:

1. get two big bowls out.  In the first assemble all the dried fruits, nuts & peel.  Put aside.
2. in the second bowl, put the butter & caster sugar.  Cream them together until light & fluffy.  Be prepared for your arms to hurt a lot while doing this.  While you’re having frequent rests, line & butter a large cake tin with grease-proof paper & set it on a baking tray.
3. when the creamed mixture is ready, add the eggs one at a time.  It’s easiest to do this by lightly beating each egg in a small bowl first, then adding it.  Make sure each egg is properly incorporated before adding the next.
4. when all the eggs have been added, gradually sift in the flour, salt & mixed spice
5. when that’s done add in the lemon & the milk
6. when that’s done, gradually mix in the pile of dried fruit & nuts from the first bowl
7. the mixture should now be a solid mass of ingredients held together by the sponge mix.  It should be of a stiff dropping consistency
8. pile the mixture into the prepared lined cake tin & pat down gently to avoid any major air bubbles.  Smooth the top with a spatula.
9. bake in a low to medium oven (160C/ 150C fan) for about 3 hours.  It’s hard to be precise, depending on heaviness of mixture.  Test from 2 hours onward with a skewer – if it comes out clean, it’s cooked.  The cake should be browned on the top and the sides just starting to come away from the sides of the tin.  If in doubt, give it another 20 minutes, then test again.
10. remove to a wire rack to cool completely, then store & begin feeding.

 What else you need to know:

1. the cake should be made in August/ Sept if possible because it needs time to mature & to be fed before Christmas.  Store in an air-tight container;
2. feed the cake weekly.  You can use rum, brandy or sherry or any combination you like.  Prick the cake all over the top with a fork or a skewer.  Use a tea-spoon to gently pour your alcohol of choice into the holes, then re-seal in the cake container;
3. this cake is wonderful on its own, but is improved when accompanied by a wedge of a white crumbly cheese such as Wensleydale, Lancashire or Cheshire.

Afternoon In Imber

Afternoon In Imber

A path trails away

Into thick undergrowth

Overgrown from infrequent use

Testament to long neglect

Towards the shells of houses

Their windows standing empty

Gouged out like eyes

Staring unblinking

Towards the church

Whose dark and crumbling stones

Still preserve the fabric of a building

Its tower holding bells unrung

No longer consecrated

Its congregation long departed

The lonely village street

Deserted and unkempt

Eerily quiet in the afternoon

Once peopled long ago

Before the wartime Army came

And asked them all to go

To leave a realistic playground

Where they could practice combat

Throw some ordnance around

Unopposed and unobserved

Deep within this hidden fold

Can we see the faces of the missing?

Peering round the corner

Where the bakery used to be?

And are there ghosts among the grass

Picking their way between the holes

Dug out by the detonations?

And are there any spirits here

That walk between the wire and the fences?

And are there any still alive

Of those cruelly displaced

Who remember Imber as it was

And might return one day

To dwell here once again?

 Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2013

Beetroot & Goat's Cheese Gratin

Recipe for: BEETROOT & GOAT’S CHEESE GRATIN

Ingredients:

·         500g beetroots, scrubbed, topped & tailed

·         100-150g goat’s cheese (or other soft cheese)

·         1 tblsp horseradish sauce

·         150ml cream, crème fraiche or yoghurt

·         3 tblsp fresh breadcrumbs (optional)

·         3 tblsp freshly-grated parmesan

Method:

1.       Preheat oven to 200C (fan 185C)

2.       Boil the beetroots for 10-15 minutes until tender, but still retaining some bite

3.       Drain and plunge into cold water for a few minutes

4.       When cool enough to handle, slip off any remaining beetroot skin and cut into thick slices

5.       Grease a shallow baking dish with a little butter

6.       Slice the goat’s cheese into small slices

7.       Arrange the beetroot & cheese slices in alternating layers in the greased dish

8.       In another small bowl, mix the horseradish with the cream.  Add salt & pepper

9.       Pour over the beetroot & cheese

10.    Put a layer of breadcrumbs (if using) & grated parmesan over the top of the dish

11.    Bake in the oven for about 10-12 minutes until the cheese is melted and the sauce is bubbling

What else you need to know:

1.       Serve with a green salad and some thick wholemeal bread to mop up the juices

2.       Ideal on its own as a snack meal, or makes an impressive side dish with red meats

News From Bromham - Dateline Sunday 1st September 2013

Bulletin From Bromham: Dateline – Sunday 1^st September 2013

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

1.       Dave Wentwrong, leader of the Field Land-Owners Party (FLOP) and Chairman of the Parish Council, suffered an ignominious failure on Thursday night when one of his own councillors (that Brenda from the far end of the village) failed to hear the call for a crucial vote in the Council chamber on whether Bromham should deploy ground forces in its continuing battle with the Seend separatists.  Brenda, who had her hearing-aid switched off at the time, claimed that she would have voted against in any case.  The vote may have serious repercussions for Bromham as a future power in the County.  It is now thought that the Upper Swansdyke (US) council may choose to strike against Seend without waiting for a formal Trowbridge mandate.

2.       Friday in Bromham marked the 50^th anniversary of the famous “I have a beetroot” speech by the Reverend Martin Piglet Bling in 1963 in front of the Bromham War Memorial.  Tens of beetroot-pickers gathered, together with their carrot-picking brothers, to commemorate the anniversary. The famous words: “I have a dream that one day among the red hills of Bromham, former beetroot pickers will sit down with non-beetroot pickers, and will be judged not by the colour of their picking fingers, but by the content of their vegetable boxes.  I have a dream.”

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

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2013