Drivel From Devizes - Dateline Sunday 7th October 2018

Drivel From Devizes: Dateline – Sunday 7^th October 2018

Here is our weekly round-up of events from D-Town:

1.      In a major escalation of the Cold War with Trow-Vegas, intelligence officers from The Vize have revealed this week that dark forces were definitely responsible for subtle unscheduled, unannounced changes to the 49 bus timetable.  In an unprecedented move, our brave boys presented clear evidence of cyber-crime being committed against the bus company’s website.  CCTV footage has also been released showing a man regularly travelling on the route who looks a bit “foreign”, carrying a dodgy-looking briefcase with unknown contents.  His identity is still being investigated, but he is thought to be using visits to his so-called “girl-friend” as cover.  So far, however, he has not attempted to visit Salisbury.

2.    And last night a rock concert in the town ended somewhat early when the band became confused.  Keen to show their PC credentials and that they were definitely “on trend” the crowd of nearly ten saluted the end of each number with “jazz hands”.  Apparently hearing no applause, nor any calls for an encore, the musicians decided that no-one was interested and so packed up their gear and went for a pizza. 

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2018

Mole

Mole

Early morning garden wandering

Feeling the wetness of dew

From the lawn’s long grass

Soaking through the shoe-soles

I stumble across something

That upsets the leisurely stroll

The tell-tale signs of spoil-heaps

The unmistakeable evidence

Of the presence of mole

Mounds are scattered round

Creating an irregular landscape

Pitted by small soil-mountains

Piles of loam above ground

Tunnelled out from down below

Such vandalism is not caused by the vole

These burrowings and diggings

Are of something a size larger

That can only suggest mole

I can trace the track of his wanderings

The lines that betray channels below

As he blindly pursues his lone destiny

And I wonder if he ever pokes his head up

To see where he’s got to today?

The underneath’s now riddled with holes

A scene of rural despoilation

Where the worms have scattered in panic

In their heedless flight from the mole

And I’ll whack the piles with a spade

Trying to flatten them down once again

In a quite futile gesture of anger

That will do little good in the end

For my little invader won’t be deterred

And I know deep down in my soul

That once he’s taken up residence

He’ll stick around for some time

And I’ll be sharing my lawn with a mole

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2018

Morning

Morning

Running down a darkened hallway

Towards an opening door

Where light floods around

And falls in upon the floor

Suddenly there is sound again

Rushing, scraping, scratching

And an end to thoughts and dreams

To schemes of reddened skies

To floating boulders slowly turning

To sweeping clouds of yellow

And the bellowing, aching roar

Of a lone walrus upon a deserted shore

To the flutter of dry and dusty leaves

Driven, wind-blown, swirling

To the clatter of hooves

Of blue-skinned ponies trotting

Through a cold and empty square

The space echoing back the sound

To the voids of blackened eye-holes

Of grotesque, trembling skulls

And which, after an endless time

Slowly dissolve and desiccate

Into the crystals of the waking world

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2018

Potato & Leek Soup

Recipe for: SOUP –POTATO & LEEK (VICCHYSOISSE)

Ingredients:

·        25g/ 1 oz butter

·        2 tblsp olive oil

·        4 medium potatoes, peeled & cut into small dice

·        2-3 small leeks, washed, trimmed & finely sliced

·        1 stick celery, washed, trimmed & finely diced

·        500ml/ 18 fl oz vegetable stock

·        100ml milk

·        100ml cream or yoghurt

Method:

1.      Heat butter and oil in a large pan

2.      When foaming add the  diced vegetables and fry gently until soft but not brown

3.      Add the stock & bring to the boil

4.      Reduce heat, cover and simmer for 25-30 minutes until the vegetables are very tender

5.      Puree until smooth with a hand-blender

6.      Return to a (clean) pan and add the milk and cream  (or yoghurt), warming through gently

7.      Adjust seasoning

I'll Do It Tomorrow

(I’ll) Do It Tomorrow

I’m not one for procrastination,

Not wishing to cause myself any sorrow,

But there are a few things that I’d like to put off,

Cause I can always do them - Tomorrow.

Tomorrow’s a wonderful day,

In fact my favourite day of the week,

For Tomorrow never actually arrives,

So we never need climb up that particular peak.

Tomorrow - I’ll do the washing and ironing,

I might even get round to the cleaning,

I could mow the lawn, or get into the garden,

Before life loses all of its meaning.

Tomorrow - I’ll put new batteries into the clock,

Or possibly fit a new washer onto the tap.

Is it worth me learning to play the guitar,

When my previous attempts were so terribly crap?

Tomorrow - I might finally weaken,

And concede that I’ll have to empty the bin -

There’s only so many ways you can squash it down,

In a futile attempt to cram yet more in!

Tomorrow - I’ll throw that yoghurt out of the fridge -

It’s growing penicillin if the truth be to tell.

I’m never going to be  bio-chemist,

And the kitchen is starting to smell.

Tomorrow - I swear I’ll read the instructions,

For all the appliances and things that I own.

There’s a huge pile of the tedious things,

And my collection has certainly grown.

Tomorrow - I’ll pay off the credit-card bill,

Avoid interest, and pay off the balance in full.

I could even complete my tax return,

But that would be incredibly dull!

Tomorrow - I’ll start eating a sensible diet,

And start to cut down my consumption of beer.

I’ll reserve the option to start my exercise regime -

The path to better health’s too obvious and clear.

Tomorrow - I’ll apply for a stair-lift,

Or perhaps invest in funeral plan.

There’s always a chance I’ll get round to it,

Before I finally go down the pan.

  

Tomorrow - I might get into religion,

Look into eternity and all of that.

Tomorrow - I’ll seek out the Jehovah’s Witnesses,

And ask them to pop round for a chat!

Tomorrow - I’ll read right through “Ulysses”,

Then tackle Tolstoy’s classic “War & Peace”.

Tomorrow - I’ll admit I’ve been wrong about something,

Tomorrow!  Tomorrow! Wonders might never cease!

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2018

The Anti-Bucket List

The Anti-Bucket List or “empty” bucket list.  Perhaps it’s a “fuck it” list?

What’s this with working through a “bucket list”?

Things to experience before you die?

Can’t you just do that stuff anyway?

Without having to explain the reasons why?

After all, we’re all going to kick that bucket,

Albeit some of us quicker than others,

So I’ve devised a different strategy -

Listen here, sisters and brothers.

I’m taking the opposite approach,

One that’s simpler to put into action,

Cause you can do it all from your armchair -

In fact that’s its greatest attraction.

It’s all a matter of understanding oneself,

Coming to terms with one’s languor,

Of keeping all calm and collected,

And of one’s energy not turning to anger.

It’ll save me both time and good money,

And I’ll recommend it strongly to you.

So here’s a good solid agenda,

A list of things I’m NOT going to do.

I shan’t play for Yorkshire at cricket,

Nor wear the England shirt at football,

No ski-ing, or playing golf, or athletics,

In fact taking part in no sport at all.

So that also rules out the Olympics,

And trying to run a four-minute mile,

Running a marathon’s preposterous -

I can be lying in bed all the while.

Zip-lining, bungee-jumping, paragliding,

Activities designed to introduce strife,

Water-ski-ing, wing-walking or parachuting,

Anything where I’d have to hang on for dear life.

I’m not going swimming with dolphins,

Or any creatures that live in the sea.

Leave them all to their watery habitat,

Because it’ll never be of interest to me.

There’s no time to learn Chinese,

Or Serbo-Croat, that’s what I’ve thought,

Or Russian, Mongolian, Urdu or Swahili –

In fact - let’s face it – life’s just too short!

  

And don’t ask me to keep chickens,

Goats & sheep hold no interest I confess,

I couldn’t be bothered with bees or with pigs,

And I’d refuse to clean up all of their mess.

I won’t ever be a space tourist,

Nor take a personal trip to the Moon.

It’s easier to stay back here on Earth,

Than make it to Mars anytime soon.

I refuse to ever eat in McDonalds or at Nando’s,

And to KFC I’ve always said nay.

I’ve so far managed to avoid food poisoning,

And I’d like to keep it that way!

So forgive me if I don’t want to climb Everest,

And avoid all of this other craziness.

Give me a break for the time I’ve got left,

And indulge me this life of laziness.

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2018

Gentlemen Lift The Seat

Gentlemen Lift The Seat

In visiting the facilities one day,

I saw a notice that had me quite beat,

For, there upon the facing wall,

It said “Gentlemen Lift The Seat”.

I pondered this sociological observation -

Its meaning I couldn’t have guessed -

Was it a direct command I wondered?

Or a passive-aggressive request?

What had driven someone to write this?

Had previous visitors created some pain,

By misusing this convenience,

And not respecting the porcelain?

I guess it’s not aimed at the ladies

But it’s them that we’re trying to please

So I suppose it could be much better written:

Could You Men Aim Too?  Please?

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2018