Ernest’s Underwear!

Posted on February 23, 2015 by The Baldock Bard.

While shopping in M&S recently I watched a very ernest man of a certain age carefully place his purchases on the belt at the checkout. My immediate, rather uncharitable thought, was: ‘I hope mummy reminded him to put his vest on this morning!’ My second guess was correct, he did indeed have a small leather horseshoe-shaped purse…

Ernest shops in M&S,
Mummy told hIm for success:
“Always wear clean underwear
In case taken ill when you’re out there!”

“You will never be embarrassed
Whether London, Rome or indeed Paris!”
So Ernest always tries his best,
To wear clean pants and pristine vest!

Occasionally Ernest gets a date,
They see his vest and it’s too late!
They can’t look at his white tummy,
So quite content he returns to mummy!

With many apologies to Ernest’s everywhere!
English to American English translation: ‘Pants’ in this context mean knickers not trousers! However ‘Ernest’ would never say knickers without breaking into a nervous tittering girlie-giggle! His mother would not approve of such frivolous language!

© Baldock Bard 2015
For more from the Baldock Bard click on ‘Home’ above

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The Baldock Boot Sale
Returns Saturday April 11^th 2015
With more FREE parking and billions of bargains!
www.u-boot.co.uk

Artistic Conundrums!

Posted on February 21, 2015 by The Baldock Bard.

As grandparent child minders, Mrs Bard and I are expected to be multi talented. In fact I would venture to suggest that our artistic prowess has improved so much that an exhibition could follow soon…

Vincent van Goch,
Had a cough,
Fell into a water trough.
Claude Monet,
Didn’t stay,
Left him for another day.
Henri Matisse,
Called the police,
Then ran off with Gaugin’s niece.
Francis Bacon,
Thought he was taken,
Dragged him out shiverin’ and shakin’!
Georgia O’Keefe,
Witnessed his grief,
And slid a blanket underneath.
Edward Hopper,
Was improper,
Thought that he would come a cropper.
Roy Lichtenstein,
Thought it time,
To open up a bottle of wine!

…what Jackson Pollock did, history mercifully doesn’t relate!
With apologies to artists everywhere.

Feeding The Fire!

Posted on February 17, 2015 by The Baldock Bard.

Yesterday I chopped some wood for the farmhouse wood burner. It was neither stressful nor did it carry much sense of achievement. The axe stayed firmly in my imagination along with a woodsman from many years ago…

The woodsman goes into the forest,
Axe slung over his shoulder.
His wife dressed in hessian,
Clutching a babe-in-arms,
Waves from the woodland cottage door,
A wisp of smoke escapes from the chimney.
They are almost out of logs.
He fells the tree with mighty swings of the axe,
By nightfall he wearily carries home an armful of warmth for his family,
Job done.

The woodshed is almost empty,
I fetch the JCB tractor from the barn and attach the log splitter.
The large bucket is attached to the JCB Loadall.
Sections of matured tree trunk are bought into the barn (it’s raining!).
No sweat will be needed here, the machine never grunts!
Within the hour over a ton of logs are in the bucket.
A slight sweat is raised when throwing logs into the woodshed,
Job done.
…Which would you prefer: The pastoral or the modern?

The Hycrack log splitter can be seen in action on Youtube : www.youtube.com/watch?v=SFQMIu63efo

Those Devious Wine Gums!

Posted on February 13, 2015 by The Baldock Bard.

Are you weak-willed at times? Have you the willpower needed to resist those temptations that laugh at resistance? I admit that I lose resolve in the face of Wine Gums, Twiglets or Cheeselets, I call it my generic failing…

I sat in the office,
My mind an absentee,
When I saw a bright packet,
Gazing down at me!
It seemed to be shouting,
“Coo-ee, I’m up here,
I’m full of deliciousness,
Come and eat me!”
I returned to my keyboard,
But resistance was all shot,
I reached up for the bag,
And ate the bloody lot!

Parking with a Toddler!

Posted on February 10, 2015 by The Baldock Bard.

Have you experienced a miracle, worthy of Lourdes, where a driver parks his car in a disabled bay and walks unaided to the supermarket? Since I’ve been helping mind my two-year old grand-daughter I have met his irritating step-brother: the childless user of the parent and child parking bay…

Wrestling a toddler from a car seat,
Is a task that needs space to make it complete!
You undo the straps and remove from her shoulder,
Then she goes limp, felexibilty of a boulder!
You discover the next door car is too close,
And try to pull the child through a space made for post!
Finally the child is standing by the car,
Your hand has been jammed, later a scar?
Then you notice the toddler parking spaces,
Are full of the childless of all sizes and races!
They’ve done something bad, they’ve made you so wild,
They’ve parked in a space marked ‘Parent and Child’

Dedicated to anyone who has attempted to park in a normal-sized space with an angry toddler on board. May a dedicated space be yours, always!

The Elderly Talking Terriers!

Posted on February 9, 2015 by The Baldock Bard.

The Elderly Talking Terriers!

We have a natural sun-trap in a passage in the farmhouse. Yesterday I was surprised to find two terriers were sitting, like pensioners in a care home, taking in the suns rays. I could hear them talking at each other…

Two terriers were sitting in the afternoon sun,
“What do you think’s for tea,” commented one.
“Never liked the beach,” said the other,
“I think you’re confusing me with my brother.”
“I think I’m getting thirsty,” the first one said.
“You’re wrong, it’s Sunday, soon be time for bed!”
“I can’t seem to concentrate, I’m getting like Cyril,
Oh look over there, I’m sure I saw a squirrel!”
“The worst thing about being the age we are,
Can’t remember if we chase the human or the car!”
“If we chase the human and get the wrong one,
We’ll end up in a care home sitting in the sun!”

Be kind to your children… they will chose your care home!

Dedicated to Baggins the Cat, from his human and doggy friends, may he rest in peace, chasing winged mice for eternity!

Crops Away!

Posted on February 6, 2015 by The Baldock Bard.

Yesterday saw the final load of last year’s harvest leave the farm. It is a time for reflection, but also anticipation of another harvest to come. It marks the start of a ‘deep clean’ campaign to ensure that crops leaving this farm are up to standard…

The last of Harvest ’14 has left the farm,
Unless a zombie attack there is no alarm,
The shed is empty, the grain store clear,
No more crops ‘till harvest appear.
Before that sweeping, vacuuming too,
Washing implements till they shine like new!
I’ll await an inspector with a fine toothcomb,
Who’ll frighten me to death then disappear home!
Finally comes August such far off days,
The crops will return in a hot heat haze!
And I will sing a happy refrain:
“Harvest is here off we go again!”Thanks to all the drivers who have carted away our grain. You’re a great bunch who deserve more recognition for the work you all do.

Stereotypes!

Posted on January 29, 2015 by The Baldock Bard.

Yesterday I had a telephone conference with a stereotypical pariah, who turned out to be extremely helpful and pleasant. It led me to consider how easy it is to take part in mass criticism and tar everyone with a ‘one-size-fits-all’ brush. Can you guess his occupation (answer at the end)…

All farmers are millionaires,
They drive around all day,
Shouting out instructions,
Never fling a bale of hay!
They always have a collie,
Who barks when folk walk by,
They’re always pleading poverty,
It’s enough to make you cry!
They’re always dressed in tweed,
Shoot anything that flies,
To open up their wallet,
With a crowbar prise!
They grub up all the hedgerows
Their face is always tanned,
They scream at any walkers:
“Get orf my ‘effin land!”

To Mike, my new Lloyds Bank manager and all those before him.

Stranger Danger?

Posted on January 28, 2015 by The Baldock Bard.

When did we become a nation that is suspicious of all strangers? We have always had a history of being a ‘welcoming society’… Or have we? On my way out of the farm yesterday I turned onto the main road and very soon passed a man walking up the road in the opposite direction (an unusual sight this far from town). With thoughts of at least a ransacked house streaming through my head I turned around and headed back. Hiding behind a hedge I was relieved to watch the lone walker pass by…

There’s a stranger walking by,
I’m sure he’s up to no good,
He may be about to ransack the house,
Or steal a load of wood!
Or perhaps he just out for a stroll,
Taking in fresh air,
He’s actually doing no harm at all,
As far as I’m aware!

Should I have acted differently?
Offered a cup of tea?
Or should I man the barricades,
In case he a wrong’un be?

Perhaps it’s time we all gave strangers some benefit of the doubt and stopped being driven by startling stories in the media?

© Baldock Bard 2015
For more from the Baldock Bard click on ‘Home’ above

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

The Joys of Communication (and Old Age!)

Posted on January 27, 2015 by The Baldock Bard.

I realised the other day, while walking down the street, that I’ve become a M.O.B. (Miserable Old Bar-Steward). A group of teenagers sat in the sunshine and all were using their smartphones. “Huh!” I said to myself (muttering in public being one of the early symptoms), “I bet they’re ‘talking’ to each other!” I continued my slow journey to the library muttering about “the youth of today!” Later on I recognized with horror that I had turned into my father. It’s time I was put out to pasture…

Oh! The joys of a mobile phone,
(Or whatever they’re called now!)
We must be in touch all of the time,
At home or on the plough!
Whatever did we do in olden days,
A phone box did we seek?
Didn’t care about connectivity,
And sulk in a fit of pique!

Do you remember talking,
When you went out for a meal?
Brains were used instead of Google,
Today crosswords are hardly real!
Groups of teenagers snap-chatting away,
(To the ones they’re standing beside!)
Leaves you wondering where it will end,
If conversation has finally died!

© Baldock Bard 2015
For more from the Baldock Bard click on ‘Home’ above

Facebook: Baldock Bard
Twitter: @baldockbard
E-mail: baldockbard@www.baldockbard.co.uk

Baldock Bard

Verse and Worse from the Baldock Versemonger

Category Archives: Ye Olde British Customs

Ernest’s Underwear!

Artistic Conundrums!

Feeding The Fire!

Those Devious Wine Gums!

Parking with a Toddler!

The Elderly Talking Terriers!

Crops Away!

Stereotypes!

Stranger Danger?

The Joys of Communication (and Old Age!)