Closing Down!

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Barretts1On Saturday I went to the closing-down sale of a general store that had been In the town of St Neots for over 125 years. The store was packed with bargain hunters, one wonders where all the people came from, and what was so different about this week. If there was something unusual that was rarely stocked these days, Barretts was the answer.

I wanted a pad
of Basildon Bond,
an old-fashined type
of writing paper I’m fond!

I asked the assistant
if she had,
some analogue paper
that came in a pad!

While I was there
“Can you recommend,
an analogue printer,
we once called a pen?”

She said “very funny,
now let me think!
I think we have everything
apart from analogue ink!”
barretts2
With best wishes for the future to all the staff at Barretts. You made the store and also made it worthwhile returning. You will be missed.

© Baldock Bard 2016
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E-mail: baldockbard@www.baldockbard.co.uk

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Every Saturday
April – October 2016

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Terminus 2066!

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PaddingtonThe other day I went down to Paddington Station in West London to collect an aged relative. On my way to spend 30p at the conveniences I looked up at the roof of this ancient monument to mass transit solutions. It led me to wonder what lay in store for rail travel in the future and which of our present customs would remain…

Will there still be antique stations,
when trains are supersonic?
Will platforms remain the same,
some arrival times still chronic?

Will the guard still blow a whistle,
even though trains automatic?
Will we alight in London,
next stop the Adriatic?

Will commuters pack like sardines,
on their way to Town?
Or will the work come to them,
still in their dressing gown!

Will it still hold a child’s wonder,
an open-mouth gasping stare,
I hope it’s still spectacular,
even though I won’t be there!

I consider myself very fortunate that I walk to work and don’t squeeze into a over-full carriage with other city-bound commuters. So for me the excitement of a train journey remains something special and reassuring in this ever-changing world.

© Baldock Bard 2016
For more from the Baldock Bard click on ‘Home’ above
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E-mail: baldockbard@www.baldockbard.co.uk

The Baldock Boot Sale
SG7 6RD
is the friendliest bargain bonanza anywhere!
Every Saturday
April – October 2016

With more FREE parking and a field full of bargains!
www.u-boot.co.uk

 

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The Last Daffodil

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last daffSome years ago I went to visit an old teacher who taught me when I was seven. She was approaching her 105th birthday. She still lived on her own, cooked, cleaned and tended her small rose garden. However she had one complaint about living to such a great age, all her peers and friends had gone…

Pity the last daffodil left standing,
when all the others have died,
May day heat is not a treat,
when you feel lonely inside.

Pity the Centernarian,
who sits all day in a chair,
the wing-back seat no longer a treat,
as life is just not fair.

Make much use of every day,
while you’re still in your prime,
because who knows, the way life goes,
you may regret too much time!

Have a great weekend. May you hear laughter, enjoy good company and feel the warm sun on your back!

© Baldock Bard 2016
For more from the Baldock Bard click on ‘Home’ above
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E-mail: baldockbard@www.baldockbard.co.uk

The Baldock Boot Sale
SG7 6RD
is the friendliest bargain bonanza anywhere!
Every Saturday
April – October 2016

With more FREE parking and a field full of bargains!
www.u-boot.co.uk

 

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The Coach without Horses!

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CoachWhat a Bank Holiday weekend! For once the sun shone for most of the weekend allowing for a sunny car boot sale! Afterwards Mrs Bard and I took off to a boat to relax (end of quarter accounts, VAT and catch up on paperwork!). Yesterday evening many people were travelling…

A very large coach drives over the bridge,
on Bank Holiday Monday evening,
going from Oxford ending in Cambridge,
two veritable centres of reading!

Over the bridge is the Bridge Hotel,
Where coach and horses once stopped,
now a place where modern coaches just pass,
used by tourists and those who’ve just shopped.

The swans don’t look up at the shiny new coach,
they simply continue to float,
they’ve no idea of the stress in our lives:
If they did they’d probably gloat!

Have a great Tuesday that feels like a Monday and acts like a petulant child that seeks attention!

© Baldock Bard 2016
For more from the Baldock Bard click on ‘Home’ above
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E-mail: baldockbard@www.baldockbard.co.uk

The Baldock Boot Sale
SG7 6RD
is the friendliest bargain bonanza anywhere!
Every Saturday
April – October 2016

With more FREE parking and a field full of bargains!
www.u-boot.co.uk

 

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A Canvas Canoe Called Lucinda!

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LucindaYesterday I went to the funeral of my Godmother, Lucinda. During the eulogy to this larger-than-life character, her eldest son recounted their family holidays (two parents and five children in an early camper-van). At that moment I remembered one of our family holidays, in the early seventies, when we borrowed their family’s canvas two-man canoe called ‘Lucinda’, leading the police to tell my family that I was probably dead…

Every day my father drove us a little further from the campsite to paddle back on the Dordogne river in France. This was fine until one day he chose to look at a map of France rather than one of the locality. My brother and I were dropped off, in glorious weather, dressed just in swimming trunks with a towel each, to paddle back to the site. By tea-time, when we should have seen familiar landmarks for some time, we were still paddling along merrily! By around midnight, my brother decided to abandon ship to seek help. By daybreak, after a lonely night of thunder, lightning, high cliffs and fast-flowing rapids where I could feel the scrape of rocks through the canvas, I reached a town I remembered – Sarlat. I arrived back at the campsite in time for a very late breakfast. My brother had returned early in the morning, the police had been called and declared with a Gallic shrug of the shoulders; “Il est mort!” (he is dead!) My mother, ever the pragmatist, shrugged her shoulders and said (of me, her revolting and unruly teenage son) “if he’s dead, he’s dead!” Needless to say I have avoided canoes ever since.

In memory of my Godmother Lucinda, to whom I owe so much: ‘If there’s another world she lives in bliss, if not she made the most of this’ (R Burns)
I wish you all a safe and enjoyable weekend and avoid those rapids!

© Baldock Bard 2016
For more from the Baldock Bard click on ‘Home’ above
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E-mail: baldockbard@www.baldockbard.co.uk

The Baldock Boot Sale
SG7 6RD
is the friendliest bargain bonanza anywhere!
Every Saturday
April – October 2016

With more FREE parking and a field full of bargains!
www.u-boot.co.uk

 

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Bill and the Daffodils!

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Bills DaffsThis year the Daffodils are flowering for what seems longer and longer. Having seen them first before Christmas in a shaded corner of the garden, they are still in bloom with some buds to come. That is apart from what used to be a large plot of them about forty-plus years ago. My mother was a most meticulous gardner and wouldn’t let the mower anywhere near the daffodils until they were completely over and then some…

Old Bill was sent to mow the grass,
a job he liked in many years past,
on the old tractor with the 6ft mower,
when driving that he was a goer!
Mowed the grass at the front of the farm,
Straight through the Daffodils no sense of alarm,
my mother told him straight, “they won’t come,
just think of future damage you’ve done.”
Bill with a shrug and shake of his head,
“they’ll be alright they won’t be dead!”
But to this day a patch isn’t right,
become known as Bill’s mowing sight!

Just to show the difference I’ve added a view from a plot next door! Both my mother and Bill have been dead for many years now, so I guess the difference is simply a memorial to poor communication!
Daffs 3
© Baldock Bard 2016
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E-mail: baldockbard@www.baldockbard.co.uk

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The Seagull Whisperer!

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Sammy SeagullNone of my friends who live anywhere near the sea can understand why I quite like seagulls! Many of them have a deep-rotted hatred of these birds and some even dream of their extinction. For me they evoke memories of long-ago holidays, queuing to board a ferry at Dover, with an audible backdrop of “caw-caw-caw!”

We had an old friend, Di, who lived all her life in a seaside town in the south of the country. She hated seagulls, however she was even less fond of her neighbour.
In retirement he waged a relentless war, from his garden and back yard, against these birds using every novel method he could dream up.
Unfortunately for him, he was fighting a losing battle, as not only did he live next to Di, but the neighbour on the other side was a lonely old woman who put out daily bread for the birds, despite being subject to a court order banning the practice!
Di had one unique talent. She could imitate the “pew, pew, pew” call of a seagull chick so well that, even out of the breeding season, seagulls would flock to the street to seek out these imaginary chicks.
She would stand outside her back door, do the call, and her neighbour would appear, a short angry bald dumpy man, frantically waving a very long bamboo pole onto which was attached a plastic bag, shouting, “SHOO, SHOO, SHOO!” at the circling birds!

On Monday morning we will be saying our final farewells to Di at the crematorium. I do hope there will be some seagulls circling overhead, it would be such an appropriate final tribute to her unique talent.

© Baldock Bard 2016
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E-mail: baldockbard@www.baldockbard.co.uk

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Happy St David’s Day!

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Daffs“Dydd Gŵyl Dewi Hapus!” will be the greeting across Wales and the Welsh-speaking world this morning. Daffodils will be worn and schoolchildren will dress up in their national costume. Back in 1975 all this was alien to this Englishman. I knew that Cardiff was the capital of this small but resilient chapel, rugby and beer loving nation, but little else.

On a wet autumn afternoon, I found myself, a twenty-year-old nervous Englishman, driving across the Severn Bridge (there was only one  in those days) and into a foreign land. Having driven some way along the A48 (before the days of the M4), my poor little mini, unused to such torrential downpours in its native East of England, started to cough and splutter. I took shelter under a bridge and waited for the cars electrics to dry out. Being without map, compass or provisions, (mobile phones were just the speculation of mad science fiction writers in those days!) I came to the conclusion that my destination was just over the next hill.
After a while there was a tap on the window. There stood a policeman, not just of ordinary English-size, but a giant of a man with a neck wider than the Bristol Channel. In a sing-song South Walien accent he asked if I was lost! I told him that it was my first time in Wales and that I was almost at my destination, a small village beyond Llanelli. With utmost patience he explained that I had over 60 miles to travel and that I’d better be on my way as it would soon be dark!
When I finally arrived in the small village of Pembrey, having taken many wrong turnings in the pitch black night, including a grass-covered sheep track up a hill, I found the house, standing alone on a hill above the village.

Little did I know then, but this was where I’d be married, enjoy holidays with children and a place and people I’d grow to love and cherish, including my wonderful Welsh wife of 36 years, Helen. Not bad for an English youth who once stood ringing a doorbell in a foreign land, dressed in purple jeans, mismatching jumper and untidy hair, on a dark and wet night 41 years ago.

Happy St David’s Day.

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No Way!

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No WayWhen were you last affected by stimuli so strong that it left you breathless? Have you ever had such a moment? It could have been a smell, a taste or even a song that takes you back in time…

The other morning, just before dawn, I was cultivating a field called Mullygrubbs next to the road. The radio was playing second fiddle to the throaty exhaust of the large rubber-tracked John Deere tractor as it worked at full power to pull the deep cultivator through the frosty soil.
Suddenly I half-heard a song that I thought I recognised. I turned up the volume and was immediately whisked back to the early Seventies.
The location of the memory, a small market town in Wiltshire where I was in school, doing a paper-round, failing O’Level examinations, working on a building site and cycling around with a transistor radio taped to the handlebars of my bicycle!
However the track played was not an oldie, but a recently released track with a distinctly retro feel that for a 60 yr old farmer, hit the spot better than chocolate, wine gums or even a perfect latte.
By the time the song was over and forgotten memories had been remembered, tears were streaming down this old mans face and the straight lines made by the cultivator had been abandoned.
So if you are travelling along the country road out of Baldock and notice some distinctly wonky cultivation, don’t blame me, just listen to Gilbert O’Sullivan’s latest hit ‘No Way’ and maybe you’ll understand.

With grateful thanks to Gilbert O’Sullivan for making my magic happen! Have a great weekend and I wish you magic moments too.

© Baldock Bard 2016
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Memory of a Mother

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snowdropsYesterday afternoon it was bright but with a definite chill in the air. Walking through the woods behind the farm I came upon a patch of snowdrops, planted many years ago by my mother…

There’s a small reminder,
at this time of year,
that my mother left behind,
to remind us she was here.
Her birthday was last Wednesday,
102 she would have been,
now she rests in the churchyard,
her epitaph this snowdrop scene.

It’s rather fitting that my 1,200th posting should be in memory of my mother. To all mothers out there, have a great day and thank you for everything you do.

© Baldock Bard 2016
For more from the Baldock Bard click on ‘Home’ above
Facebook: Baldock Bard
Twitter: @baldockbard
E-mail: baldockbard@www.baldockbard.co.uk

The Baldock Boot Sale
SG7 6RD
is the friendliest bargain bonanza anywhere!
Back every Saturday after Easter 2016

With more FREE parking and billions of bargains!

 

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