Waswiggy

Alone in the drawer by malice for sport Spoon had a job, or so it had thought Try eating a supper with only two forks. Knife draws a line, serrated or straight, While fork pokes a hole, and picks up the meyt, To finish a meal before it’s too late. Not blade nor tine to slice or to skewer, Pity the spoons that lay fewer and fewer, Swimming in stew and casting their lure. Knife and the fork are edgy and mad Can’t draw the gravy, no juice to be had. Laid back in the drawer old spoon he is sad. Plates still lay empty why should they care, The cutler by trade gave out a fair share. Everything equal then all may declare. Supper is served and desert it is fixed Not one lay angered or even betwixt Life tastes best when flavours are mixed. So polish your silver and turn a new leaf, Live for each other, be it ever so brief

Hendersons? cant find it in Canada, I have to suffer with the other two drips, Lee and Perrins I have about 1/2" left in a bottle given to me over two years ago "Its nowt weeout a bit o licka on it" nanans meyt n tatti pie, been yonks, tx for the reminder I can just smell it in the cooker

I have more interest in a story that: doesnt start at the begining, has multi faceted or complicated characters, a flexible timeline(not concurrent, ie flashes forwards and backwards)and involves mutliple story lines. I'm not sure if I'm lazy or just prefer prose and poetry, but writing a novel can be a daunting task. Kudos for the idea and need, I wish you daughter all the success and desire needed to bring it to its fruition

Great novel, I highly recommend it, my dad gave me a copy years ago, I read it cover to cover in one sitting, funnily enough it reminded me of my father, he missed his calling, but for the love of a woman and his introverted personality, he could have been an inventor/innovator and have made a significant contribution to the well being of us all.................I miss him every day

Tx for the compliment, I'll let you know when I add to it, my internship at a local community theatre is commanding most of my time lately

"Trustee of the toolroom" Neville Shute, The plot of the novel hinges on the actions of a modest technical journalist, Keith Stewart, whose life has been focused on the design and engineering of scale-model machinery. Stewart writes serial articles about how to create scale models in a magazine called the Miniature Mechanic, which are extremely well regarded in the modelling community — as is he. Stewart is called upon to hide a metal box in his sister's and brother in law's sailboat just before they plan to leave in it to emigrate to Canada..........

I just started one, after much prompting from friends, I shall be adding some short stories in the near future. At present there are a few poems. http://thedyslexicparrot.blogspot.ca/

On one of the seven hills above the five streams In his stone manor house, lived our Lord Fairflats. A handsome man with dark curly hair, Broad of shoulder and square of chin, an intelligent man Not to waste of time in the ale houses and brothels. But to read of books of arts and sciences, To search the scrolls of histories ages past, And to formulate of times not yet come. But took he by the pestilence and took him all. No longer heart nor will nor thought to stay, Ate he of the nightshade and err he passed away.

"reyt johnny froggate" a liar "tha nooase why thi dress lairy, cos thi thinks lairy" lower life forms "ruddy balmpots" more lairy packets:loopy: "cuntit dooa if tha sat ont sneck" useless "tha daft chuff" extremely low IQ

rubber nails

so cold here nostrils freeze

Olwyn Rowden lol

I left in 72, moved to Canada was in F with Chris Colton, Brendan Griffiths, Nicky Baron, Chris Lynn, Linda Coupe, Michelle Morris. It's been 40 years, but I still remember all the names and faces. Dinner time at Cranns, cross country in Graves Park, ffing cold it was. Melanie Crannage, Carol Beetson and Judith Clarke. I wonder if they're still drop dead gorgeous