Category Archives: People and Personalities

Gill’s Magic Cake!

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Coffee Cake 1As regular readers will appreciate, I have one very large weakness – food! I seem to be tempted by food everywhere: on the street, in the car, even at the bakery! The other day I went on a shopping session with Mrs Bard and Mrs Rhos-Bardd. I’d hoped we’d do more eating than shopping…

I recently chauffeured Mrs Bard and a friend,
to St Albans for shopping (there was no-end!).
I had no cap but had a hunch,
that I’d be joining them both for lunch!
We ate at a restaurant that was Italian;
it was prime beef, not a hint of a stallion!
Then we continued in the shops
the excitement of shopping never stops!
St AlbansTK Max and baby clothes,
the pile of bags continually grows!
I portered them all to the car,
“Please can you stay just where you are?”
Misheard their reply that I mistook,
ended up browsing in New Look!
New Look 1Didn’t know where to alight my eyes,
the assistants looked with great surprise!
Found my shoppers at last, they both said:
“Why are your cheeks glowing so red?”
New Look 2In the car “I’m ready for tea!”
the answer came: “just wait and see!”
Went to the larder and despair,
cup of tea, no cake there!
Then a sight, my heart did quake,
Gill had sent a coffee cake!
“Oh what an Angel,” I had to shout!
She’d delivered while we’d been out.
Coffee Cake 2Word traveled fast by phone and text,
“They’ve got a cake, we’ll go there next!”
I tried to say it wasn’t fair,
But was told “shut-up and learn to share!”
So the coffee cake (Don’t blame me!)
Is now safely under lock and key!

© Baldock Bard 2013
For more verse click on ‘Home’ above

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Twitter: @baldockbard
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Kentish Men!

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KentMrs Bard and I went away for the weekend to stay with friends who’ve become ‘Kentish Men’. That is the name give to those who live London-side of the Medway River (the others being ‘Men of Kent’ those living to the East of the Medway). Having been brought up by a Man of Kent to believe that Kentish Men lived in suburbia, I was shocked and pleasantly surprised to see such beautiful countryside (unfortunately much of it through thick fog)…

We have some friends who’ve moved to Kent,
They live in an area that’s heaven sent!
We’ve never been to that area before,
But if we’re asked we’ll see them some more!
The food was better than a five star hotel,
The wine flowed briskly that night as well!
Then to sleep in a most comfy bed,
(although with slightly spinning head!).
So if you want as good a weekend as you can,
Go and stay with Kentish Man!

© Baldock Bard 2013
For more verse click on ‘Home’ above

Facebook: Baldock Bard
Twitter: @baldockbard
E-mail: baldockbard(at)u-boot.co.uk
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Love Actually (Luton Style)!

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Arrivals 1Roses are redIf you want to see absolute joy, go to an airport arrivals gate. If you want to see double that joy, do as I did yesterday: Go to an airport arrivals gate on St Valentines Day. In the short time I was there I witnessed enough romantic reunions to be able to say in a Hugh Grant-esque voice: “Love Actually… is… all around!”…

She had been sitting in the coffee shop,
That overlooked arrivals,
Just waiting for his plane to stop,
So her heart could start revivals!

She scanned the arrivals list above,
To see if his flight had landed,
And suddenly there was her love,
Just as she had planned it.
Arrivals2She ran across into his arms,
Nothing was going to faze her!
No sense of panic or alarm,
An arrivals sight to savour!
Arrivals 3© Baldock Bard 2013

For more verse click on ‘Home’ above

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Mrs Gates Daughter!

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School AheadI used to know a man called I.R. Wilde, needless to say he wasn’t. Neighbour John Crosse isn’t. Peter Smiley doesn’t always. We all know examples where names chosen in innocence by unsuspecting parents could appear years later on a remote satellite channel in a ‘When Names Go Bad’ programme…

Mrs Gates had a daughter,
Born to her late in life,
Her husband did a vanishing trick,
Preferred his secretary to his wife.

She named the baby Pearl,
As one did back in those days.
She nurtured her darling baby,
In so many different ways.

Out in the schoolyard at break-time,
Her friends would always greet her,
“We can see the Pearly Gates,
Can anyone see St Peter?”

© Baldock Bard 2013
For more verse click on ‘Home’ above

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David, My Son.

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David 1Ten years ago, on February 11th 2003, tanks were positioned at Heathrow Airport as a terrorist attack was thought to be imminent. That night, at bedtime, there was a policeman standing at our door.

Our much-loved, twenty-two year old son, David, had been killed in a car crash.

Following initial disbelief (many of the sketchy details we were given seemed unbelievable and turned out to be very wrong), we were hit by a tsunami whose force we still feel today. The details of David’s death are simple: He, and four other students had accepted a lift from a friend they trusted and that trust led two of them, along with a girl in an oncoming car, to their deaths.

When something like this happens, the old ‘phrases of comfort’ are re-cycled, mainly because people have no idea what to say. Perhaps the most idiotic is “Time is a great healer”. In truth time does not heal when you lose a child. Rather, I suspect, like re-learning to walk after an amputation, you re-learn to smile or even laugh while inside you remain as hollow as a chocolate Santa. Julia Gillard, the Australian Premier, summed up such loss in her speech at the tenth anniversary for those killed in the Bali bombings. She said: “… wounds and scars abound, healed and unhealed. But nothing can replace that empty seat at your family table, the graduations and christenings you will never know. And the fault line that will always divide your lives into two halves: ‘before’ and ‘after’…”

There are two things I’d like you to do:
First of all I’d like you to give any teenager or young person that you know a simple piece of advice that may just end up saving their lives: If they are in a car and not happy with the way it is being driven or they suspect the driver may have been drinking or is stoned, say: “I think I’m going to be sick”. This may mean a long walk home, but it’s better than not reaching home at all.

Secondly I want you to ring, text, Skype, Facebook, MSN (or better still the old-fashioned face to face), your child (or anyone who is very precious to you) and say two words: “Love You”. These are the last two words I ever said to my son. How I wish I could utter them again, so I’m asking you to do it. Not for me, not for David, but for you.
David 2© Baldock Bard 2013

For more verse click on ‘Home’ above

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Plane Sailing!

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Luton AirportYesterday morning I took Jamie Drummond to Luton Airport following his stint on the Ocean Elements stand at the London Boat Show (http://www.ocean-elements.com). Jamie is a pro windsurfer (http://www.jamiek787.com) and was on his way back to Malta for more training before the season begins. His long-suffering girlfriend, Jo, will be seeing quite a bit of his back in the weeks to come as he perfects his competition routine. However my simple task was to deliver him to the airport in time for his flight…

I’m taking Jamie to the airport,
Ring, ring, the alarm clock starts to chime!
Four in the morning,
It shouts out a warning,
Must get him to the plane on time!

The road to the airport is quite icy,
The gritters are now gritting ‘till daytime!
I’ve missed the bloody turning,
My passenger’s a-gurning,
Just get him to the plane on time!

He’s flying out to stay in sunny Malta,
There’s no snow there, the weather is just fine!
He’s soon be windsurfing,
His girlfriend he’s deserting,
Will get him to the plane on time!

Luton’s doing better now than Heathrow,
No cancellations, all the planes in line!
Pull into the drop-off,
To the terminal he’ll pop off,
I got him to the plane on time!
Jamie Drummong Luton© Baldock Bard 2013

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Twitter: @baldockbard
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Walt’s on Active Service!

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Re-enactorsDo you have a hobby that outsiders find hard to understand? Some years ago the burger van from the car boot sales had a secret assignment. Since sufficient time has elapsed I feel I am no longer under threat if I reveal the mission: They were to serve food to a group of military re-enactors in Norfolk. Re-enactors are a group of much maligned people, mainly men, who dress up as soldiers and re-enact battles. Sometimes they are (rather unkindly in my opinion) called Walts (as in Walter Mitty). There seems to be many levels of involvement: from the basic re-enactor who just has a uniform (or part of), to those who have even purchased time-specific military vehicles. If my daily blog suddenly disappears, you’ll know they got me…

Raymond works in Foreign Sales,
Charles on the seventh floor,
They don’t meet, during the week,
But weekends they go to war!

This time it is Thetford,
Last time it was York,
A year ago, Salisbury in snow,
White camouflage had been bought!

Herr Raymond will be a German,
‘Chuck’ will be a Yank,
Battle of the bulge, from food indulged,
He wouldn’t fit in a tank!

Unterofficer Colin Smurfitt,
Commands his ‘Gruppen Panzer’,
His uniform should never be worn,
He looks like a pregnant panda!

Half time in the battle,
The ‘soldiers’ need supplies,
Both armies you’ll see, drinking tea,
From a burger van (in disguise)!

Saturday evening at the campfire,
Like a bunch of overgrown scouts,
The smell’s real bad from the meal they’ve had,
Beer, chicken, beans and sprouts!

Sunday morning pouring with rain,
They look very sorry too,
One night spent in an army tent,
And they’ve blocked the portable loo!

Sunday afternoon the battle won,
‘Germans’ put to the sword,
Enough geniality, back to reality,
In a ‘Staff Car’ made by Ford!
Re-Enactors 3© Baldock Bard 2013
For more verse click on ‘Home’ above



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E-mail: baldockbard(at)u-boot.co.uk

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A Big Bang Apology!

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Have you ever watched a ‘cult’ programme that everyone you know finds side-splittingly funny only to sit stone-faced throughout? I have tried very hard to laugh at such a show, but the only laughter resonating around the room came from the live audience. But I could be wrong…

An old friend, bright and cheery,
Suggested I watch the Big Bang Theory.
So I sat and concentrated,
But found the programme zero rated!
Sheldon simply made me mad,
And I thought the storyline incredibly bad.
But to criticize something for not being fun,
You have to watch more than one!
Suddenly I laughed into a stupor,
Chortling at a U-tube blooper!
So I no longer call it guff,
Because I now can’t watch enough!
Where once I thought it was a bore,
I now say “thank-you” to Channel Four!

© Baldock Bard 2013
For more verse click on ‘Home’ above

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The Christmas Tractor!

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Christmas is all about giving. This Christmas there has been another family member around the table. I make no apologies for spoiling my new granddaughter although the choice of gifts has caused a few raised eyebrows…

What’s been great about Christmas, let me just tell you,
Has been spoiling my new Granddaughter, yes, I know it’s true!
I may have gone somewhat overboard,
But as we shopped the present pile soared!
One great moment she gave me,
Was when she smiled at the toy JCB!

© Baldock Bard 2012
For more verse click on ‘Home’ above

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Happy Christmas (War is Over!)

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Christmas is over and the last guests have left 36 Bard Road, Baldock. Like a faint ring around the bath, the remnants of the season’s festivities lay discarded behind the sofa; torn wrapping paper, a half-eaten mince pie, a crumbly dog turd and a meat-free turkey bone! Following the final departure the silence is deafening, as Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers should have sung: “Guests made this a Christmas to remember…”

The turkey carcass lies abandoned,
Grandad snoring mouth agape,
Men are smoking in the garden,
From the washing-up escape!

Extra chairs from absent neighbours,
Grandma ate upon her lap,
Check that Grandpa is still breathing,
Yes he is! Thank Heavens for that!

Darren’s sitting very carefully,
His face shows signs of fear,
Been to the toilet many times,
Scoffed those sweets from North Korea!

The kids are rioting in the bedroom,
They are leaping on the beds,
One is tied up to the headboard,
ADHD and cola without meds!

Someone’s shaver has gone missing,
The bathroom’s in thick fog,
Peters toothbrush has gone missing,
I saw it used upon a dog!

A ragtag army goes out walking,
Shouted at by farmer-with-sheep,
Returning back all cobwebs blown-out,
Find that Grandad’s still asleep!

Seven dogs have started fighting,
Aunty’s Peke is on the top,
All the kids have learnt new language,
As adults try to make them stop!

In the kitchen war is raging,
Turkey carcass on the floor,
The hostess shouting at her husband:
“Can’t stand your family any more!”

At that moment front door opens,
Uncle Bernard, parked nearby,
All the kids instantly scatter,
“Bad-breath-Bernard” they all cry!

Doreen has a screaming baby,
Her partner is ‘away’ this year,
She is soon going to visit,
He’s in Parkhurst for shifting ‘gear’!

Someone produces an obscure bottle,
Aunty Flo is filled with life,
Within the hour she’s drunkenly singing,
Uncle Bob ignores his wife!

Dan and Jane on blow-up-bed,
On the landing snore,
Everyone (on the way to bathroom),
Has kicked them hard and made them sore!

Pete is sleeping on the sofa,
Along with girlfriend Sam,
The resultant moanings are suggesting,
That they will, they do, they can!

Thursday comes the house is silent,
They’ve all gone and left today,
Every room is strangely silent
‘Come next year we’ll be away!’

FOR THE RECORD:
This verse and the people portrayed within are pure fiction and bear no relation whatsover to the wonderful guests we had to stay over the Christmas period. BB.

© Baldock Bard 2012

For more verse click on ‘Home’ above

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