Alfie and the Journey!

Posted on August 17, 2013 by The Baldock Bard.

Some dogs are just dogs. Others are like little people in their actions and expressions. Alfie, a friend of the dogs who live with Mrs Bard and I, has two humans. He decides what, where and how they live their lives. Sometimes he thinks, sometimes he sits, but most of the time he sits and thinks…

Alfie won’t get out of the car,
Where’s he going, is it far?
Is he off to visit friends?
That I suppose, somehow depends,
On what he’s planned to do today,
Maybe he just wants to sit that way!
He can’t reach the pedals, can’t reach the wheel,
So where he goes, won’t be real!
So we’ll just leave him, sitting there,
And let him drive, anywhere!

The Baldock Boot Sale is open every Saturday at 7am
Twenty-one years and still selling!
FREE parking and entry for all buyers, princesses, dogs and aliens!
www.u-boot.co.uk
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Twitter: @baldockbard
E-mail: baldockbard(at)u-boot.co.uk
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Look, Listen and Learn!

Posted on August 16, 2013 by The Baldock Bard.

Yesterday I was taken so far out of my comfort zone that I had to hitch a lift back to reality! I helped a friend put up a marquee (‘Help’ is used in its loosest context here). I had thought that, as a farmer, I could turn my hand to almost anything in a ‘Jack of all trades’ fashion. Well not marquee erecting! I discovered two left hands, two left feet and hearing loss. Even when showed the simplest of tasks, like throwing a weighted bag with a rope attached, I acted like a big girly and the rope went in the wrong direction! It was an object lesson in look, listen and learn…

Noah has his Eighteenth,
I hope it doesn’t rain,
My construction skills are useless,
An Ark is beyond my brain!

A trailer full of pieces,
Looked easy I confess!
Erecting a marquee,
More skill than I possess!

Far out of my comfort zone,
Wearing two left feet,
When I couldn’t throw a rope,
Humiliation was complete!

And when I had been shown,
How things should be done,
My inexperience let me down,
I wasn’t having fun!

Now marquee stands erected,
In the corner of the park,
I pray it doesn’t rain,
I can’t find that last Aardvark!
Robert and his marquees can be found at the finest functions in Hertfordshire. Noah and his friends will be found on Saturday night in the marquee celebrating his birthday, ‘A’ Level results and a marquee erecting NVQ! The Bard will be practicing his throwing!

The Curse of the Cones!

Posted on August 15, 2013 by The Baldock Bard.

Driving down to Baldock yesterday evening I just happened to look along the usually-empty A505 Royston road. One section of the dual-carriageway was coned off and the other was at a standstill. As it was after 5pm I was not surprised to see so much inactivity on the closed off section. I inadvertently became an irritant to the stationary motorists below me by gongoozling from the bridge. Notch up another victory over common sense for ‘Elf and Safety…

Miles and miles of bloody cones!
Everyone’s on their mobile phones,
“Don’t know when we’ll be home for tea,
It’s not my fault, no don’t blame me!”
Where is the workforce to be protected?
Yellow fluorescent, hard hats selected!
Where are the lorries carrying the load?
Where are the machines mending the road?
Where are the managers who on site roam?
It’s five o’clock, everyone’s gone home!
Where is the motorist who frowns as he groans?
Still stuck in the queue looking at cones!
© Baldock Bard 2013
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Stacking Bales the Lazy Way!

Posted on August 14, 2013 by The Baldock Bard.

I once worked for a boss who was fond of ‘his little sayings’. He’d say things like, “patience and perseverance will piddle a hole in a stone!” in a broad Ayreshire accent. Another of his sayings came to me when I was stacking bales with a machine: He hated laziness and what he termed ‘lazy ways!’ and so would have said this afternoon: “the longest way round is often the shortest way home!” We shall see if this saying has been correct this morning, it all depends on whether the stack is still standing…

I’ve been stacking bales of hay,
Kept me busy yesterday,
Back and forth with the Loadall truck,
To stop them collapsing took some luck!

Can’t believe the stack didn’t fall,
Held up I suppose by the old barn wall,
We shall see once the stack subsides,
Will it burst its bales from all sides?

If this morning when I walk to work,
If the stack has fallen I’ll look a berk!
But if the stack is still upright,
The stacking fairies have stacked overnight!

Watching Meteorites in a Dirty Sweatshirt!

Posted on August 13, 2013 by The Baldock Bard.

Last night Mrs Bard and I sat outside in the dark looking up at the sky. The news had said that from 10.30pm there would be a massive number of meteorites coming at us from the North East. The end result was rather disappointing as we only counted ten in an hour…

Sitting outside,
On two chairs facing North-East,
In the dark,
On a summer’s evening,
Looking up until your neck aches,
For a meteor shower.
Light pollution to the left of us,
Light pollution behind,
Lots of people don’t even know the sky exists,
Because of their precious street lights.
But where are the meteors,
Where is the shining tail as they,
Race across the nighttime sky,
Leaving just memories,
Of their death-throes
As they attempt fruitless entry.
My sweatshirt is painted like the night sky,
From a hundred swishes of the paintbrush,
On a ceiling some years ago.
But unlike the sky,
It can be seen by day
But not at night!

Harvest Worries!

Posted on August 12, 2013 by The Baldock Bard.

Farmers have a nasty habit of panicking if they happen to see their neighbours out on the field. This affliction is particularly common at this time of year. The ‘I’ve just seen a combine’ phone call can send farmers dashing to look at their own crops, just in case they have missed something on their last panic viewing! On Saturday I was running the boot sale when I spotted the tell-tale plume of dust followed by the appearance of Paul and John Cherry’s combine…

The dust announces the neighbours are harvesting,
And sends me quickly into a spin,
While I am busy at the boot sale,
They are getting their harvest in!

I must go and inspect my crops,
Even though I know the score!
I dash down to the furthest field,
The oats are just as they were before!

But what if by chance we could get the wheat?
Other fields have to be seen!
When I look closer at the crop,
The straw and ears are still quite green!

So I slunk off back down to the boot sale,
“Where did you dash to,” they all say?
“Did that green combine get you going?”
“Nah!” I replied, “I’m not bothered today!”

Surprise First Fruit!

Posted on August 10, 2013 by The Baldock Bard.

Some forty years ago my mother and father planted a mulberry tree in front of the farm. Three years ago my father, who is much more of an expert on these things than I’ll ever be, pronounced the tree dead. As we were busy we never got around to cutting it down and it grew leaves and survived. This year, for the first time ever, it is showing signs of preparing to shower us with fruit. We have been discussing what we may do with the fruit…

We were to cut down the Mulberry bush,
The Mulberry bush, the Mulberry bush,
We’d cut it up to make some logs,
But we haven’t had the time!

There is fruit on the Mulberry bush!
The Mulberry bus, the Mulberry bush!
We going to pick fruit from the Mulberry bush,
For the very first time!

We will be making Mulberry gin!
Mulberry gin, Mulberry gin,
We’re going to make cocktails from the Mulberry gin,
And it will taste better than wine!

… and you’re all welcome to come and taste!

First Flight!

Posted on August 9, 2013 by The Baldock Bard.

Yesterday I sat down on the grass in the sunshine with a cup of tea. Something stirred and I was shocked to see thousands of flying ants being cleared for take-off. It was the first time they’d used their new wings yet they didn’t crash or collide with one another. Despite their wingmen attacking my arms, I was filled with awe…

How do they do it,
Without air traffic control?
They take off altogether,
And perform a barrel roll!

No “Roger, Wilco!” radio calls,
No autopilot – right!
No safety checks to ground them,
Or passengers in fright!

So if you see flying ants,
Salute them as they pass,
It’s us who need assistance,
They just need some grass!

Up On The Roof!

Posted on August 8, 2013 by The Baldock Bard.

We’ve had the roofers in and when I took them a cup of tea mid-morning I found myself singing an old Drifter’s hit – ‘Up on the roof!’ I think they’d heard it before as they raised their eyes to the sky although they may have been checking for rain. I was amazed that despite the rough-looking state of the cedar-wood shingles, there were a few more years life there, however ‘a stitch in time saves a Drifter-esque rhyme’…

When this old world starts getting you down,
And buckets are just too much for me to face,
I climb way up to the top of the stairs,
And all my cares drip right into place!
On the roof it’s slippery as can be,
And you can slide right off the edge you see!
Let me tell you now,
When I’m in plaster from my head to feet,
I know my life is now good and complete!
(Up on the roof)
I lie in the ward feeling bruised and proud,
I can’t feel my hands, nor my feet
On the roof,
There is only one place that I know,
Where you just have to slip to make it so!
Let’s go up on the roof
Up on the roof…

With massive apologies to Gerry Goffin and Carole King. My only defence being that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Full song available on u-tube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7F_opWg9_qI

Reflections!

Posted on August 7, 2013 by The Baldock Bard.

I needed to look in the mirror the other day and realized with surprise how few we have in our house! I use one to shave and one to sometimes brush my hair/straighten an occasional tie and that’s about it! However it’s hardly surprising when you consider what a shock my reflection can be…

I looked in the mirror,
What did I see?
A strange old man,
Starred back at me!

His teeth were all crooked,
His hair was askew,
I said to myself,
“This can’t be you!”

“That can’t be me,”
As I reached for a drink!
I gave up on the mirror,
Don’t care what folk think!

Went out to the farm,
Fed the ducks, hens and geese,
Not one of them noticed,
Forgot my false teeth!

Walked across,
To where the grass is,
Suddenly knew the answer,
Give up my glasses!

Baldock Bard

Verse and Worse from the Baldock Versemonger

Monthly Archives: August 2013