Hail To The Feckless

 Hail To The Feckless

What’s the point of bothering?

Or even to get up in the morning?

Why this rush to meet deadlines?

Just because a new day’s dawning?

 

People make too much of efficiency

And always being some place on time

Myself I can’t see the advantage

Being laid back’s not such a crime

 

Why stir yourself if you don’t need to?

If you can just watch what’s on the telly

The only reason to be stirring yourself

Is to service your bladder or belly

 

What’s all this about volunteering?

Putting yourself out there for others?

Leave it for someone else to do

Let them ask some other brothers

 

Someone else will sort out the mess

There’s people paid to be picking up litter

If I get involved and start interfering

It’ll only leave them seething and bitter

 

No, it’s best to just leave things as they are

And let the world keep rolling past

I sometimes wish that I was more worried

But I simply just can’t be arsed

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2020

Drivel From Devizes - Dateline Sunday 6th September 2020

 Drivel From Devizes: Dateline – Sunday 6^th September 2020

 

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

                                              

1.      Further quarantine restrictions have been announced by the Town Council in a bid to control the spread of Covid.  Passengers arriving on the 49 bus from Swindon will be required to self-isolate for 14 days, but only those passengers who got on at Avebury or Beckhampton, or who have an “L” in their name, or who are pregnant, or under the age 45, or who have eaten pasta in the last 72 hours, or who live in Potterne, but not in Rowde or Poulshot.  People arriving on the 33 from Chippenham (excluding X33 services every other Tuesday) must also isolate, but there will be exemptions for those boarding at Bromham or St Edith’s Marsh, but not if they intend going for a curry, or if they live in Broadleas or Pans Lane areas.  A spokesperson for the Council said that these measures were now extremely simple, clear and straightforward.

 

2.      And, in a dramatic climb-down, turn-around, u-turn and change of policy, the DBC (D-Town Broadcasting Corporation) has decided that this year’s C*******s carols will be broadcast over the public address systems in the streets with all the words included, afterre previously saying it would be a tunes-only affair.  Or not.  Perhaps.  Maybe.  Well, nobody knows half the words anyway, do they?  But, in another controversial move, revellers outside pubs and clubs, tipping out into the streets at 1am, will be asked not to sing & shout too loudly, but rather to hum the words (that they don’t even know) very quietly.

 

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2020

Hesitation

 Hestitation

Some chaps find it hard to speak straight:

Their listeners just have to wait.

Their speech is a mess,

They start to digress,

Then it’s all stop, start and…. hesitate.

 

I don’t think it’s cos they’re stupid or dumb,

More like their minds have simply turned numb.

They become all unsure,

It’s so hard to endure,

When all they can come up with is ……“um”.

 

This problem can make them feel sick,

As they battle with their verbal tic.

They might come out with an …..“ah”,

And they don’t get very far,

I’m sorry – I’m not taking the mick!

 

Don’t mock – it could happen to you, man -

Bet you wouldn’t know what to do, man.

So don’t be uncertain,

Nor go for a burton,

After all – they say “to ‘er is human”.

 

 Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2020

 

Toast Rack

 Toast Rack

Breakfast’s the laziest meal of the day,

A quite casual repast as a rule - 

It’s not something so organised

That you need to watch the toast cool.

 

No - straight from the toaster and onto the plate,

Horizontal and any which way -

Whack on the butter and marmalade:

A sloppy approach to the start of the day.

 

The idea of it all in a line,

All vertical and serried in ranks,

It’s just too orderly for my taste,

We don’t need it on parade – no thanks!

 

Life’s too regimented as it is,

Without starting the day so formal,

So keep the toast-rack in the cupboard,

Chill out, and carry on just as normal!

 

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2020

Pan Haggerty

 Recipe for: PAN HAGGERTY

 Ingredients: 

• 900g maincrop potatoes (King Edward, Maris Piper, Desiree)
• 50g unsalted butter
• 2 onions, peeled & finely chopped
• 1 tblsp sunflower oil
• Sea salt & black pepper
• 100g gruyere or emmenthal, grated

 Method: 

1. boil the potatoes in their skins for 20-25 minutes until tender
2. drain & leave to steam for a few minutes
3. peel whilst hot, then grate coarsely
4. heat the oven to 220C/ fan 200C/ gas 7
5. melt a third of the butter in a flame-proof non-stick frying pan, over a gentle heat & sweat the onions for 5 minutes until beginning to colour
6. tip the onions into the grated potato & mix gently
7. in the empty pan, melt another third of the butter & the oil
8. scatter half the onion/ potato mix into the pan & season
9. scatter over the grated cheese
10. finish with the rest of the onion/ potato mixture
11. season again, and gently press down
12. put the pan in the oven & bake for 10 minutes
13. loosen the haggerty, place a baking tray over the top of the pan and carefully invert the cake onto it
14. melt the remaining butter in the hot pan
15. carefully slide the haggerty back into the pan from the tray to brown the other side
16. return the haggerty to the oven for another 15-20 minutes until golden on top
17. slide onto a warm plate, cut into wedges & serve

 

An Angel On The Bus

 An Angel On The Bus

We were getting worried about Grandma, a widow, who’d long been left all alone,

She was getting more and more forgetful, and seemed to be in a world of her own.

 

But she was a determined old lady - we didn’t want her being put out to grass.

Then one day a new vista opened up, when she got hold of her first bus pass.

 

She took to it like a duck to the water, and used it to voyage about all over.

Soon she was a frequent traveller, and became known as the “Off-peak Rover”.

 

Her confidence picked up, we noticed, and she became increasingly keen.

When we asked her to tell us about it, her features became calm and serene.

 

“You see,” she said, “I’ve had an encounter, about which it’s not seemly to boast,

But on the Ninety-Seven last week, I ran into one of the Heavenly Host.”

 

Now we thought this was pretty unlikely, and knew that Grandma was liable

To be somewhat over-impressed, by things she’d read in the Bible.

 

We asked her what she was talking about, what on earth was making her so happy,

But, suspecting that we doubted her word, she became all defensive and snappy.

 

She said she’d seen an Angel on the bus, a Close Encounter of the heavenly kind,

He was just sitting there all on his own, and she’d been so near, on the seat just behind.

 

She could have reached out and touched him; to his collar and the hairs on his neck,

And she trembled in her joy and elation, as she sat there, high up on the top deck.

 

His figure was picked out in silhouette, and about him there was a sunny aura,

At least that’s how it looked at the time, as she’d remarked to her friend Dora.

 

He had a special and ghostly presence, his aroma made her feel slightly faint,

But there was one further thing that clinched it, the proof that he was truly a saint.

 

She was a woman of faith and belief, she didn’t need to have her flames fanned,

But it was right there in front of her, truly this Angel sat at God’s right hand.

 

She knew that she would have missed this vision, if she’d been travelling by cycle,

But there it was clearly, on the label, in bold, curly letters – “Saint Michael”.

 

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2020

Beneath The Surface

 Beneath The Surface

There! Near the reeds, on the far bank

A sinuous, slow movement

Languid and lazy

A suggestion of a dark shape, a shadow

Beneath the silvered surface

 

The shimmering pond-water

Implacable, cold, lily-covered

Under a slow-warming sun

Its midge-infested meniscus

Disturbed by the easy-rising minnows

Conceals a waiting presence

 

Snout, and focused steady eye

Belie the beating gills and waving tail

Needled fins and razored teeth

Lie in silent patient deadly wait

Inside a green and grassy cover

Until it is time to strike

To kill and eat

Before disappearing

Back into the depth

 

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2020