View allAll Photos Tagged MARYLAS
Date:Jan 15 2014, 10:51 AM
Subject:
RE: A Right Royal Do!
Show full header
Dear All
Thank you your Majesty and loyal subjects. This speedy correspondence has saved me a lot of palava etc so I shall just say my snaps are up on flickr now at www.flickr.com/photos/pitzys_pyx/.
I should like to say that we missed TWF all day (yes we did) but cold 90s humour might here say "but I couldn't" just for a snigger. I should also like to say thank you to:
Maryla for her Sandy Smith Mud Pies
Liz M for her wonderful shortcake biscuits (the choc chip ones were particularly good :))
Malcolm X for his fruit and vanilla buns, they were very very tasty.
Whoever brought the Jaffa Cakes
To you all for your laughs and banter.
Dave Lowe for his folk and Beetles songs.
For those who wondered why I had stopped by the road side on my way home see the first snap.
Cheers
JP
Now this is what makes Tuesdays such fun and keeps me nearly sane – you should see me when I’m really balmy! Very many apologies for the lack of cake – I will try hardy next time (depending on the day and the venue!).
Thanks for all the grovelling and the wonderful singing. Could you just shorten my name to She as long as I promise not to do an “Ursula Undress” and wear a chamois leather. Thanks also for the decent weather, not that it was cold where I was standing!
I can report that I was at the Rufus Centre this afternoon and there was JB, Audrey and their lovely daughter. JB allowed me to feel his new pulse and I can recommend it as a strange experience and I think he’s got a battery somewhere that gives electric twitches.
Bon voyage to the Breeds who will be sadly missed for a while. See the rest of you somewhere in the wilds of Bedfordshire and hopefully next Tuesday.
Thanks Mr. Kippling – your writing talents are beyond compare and your cakes are pretty wonderful too. Tally Ho! She
From: Steve Squire [mailto:Steve.Squire@greensandtrust.org]
Sent: 14 January 2014 21:36
To: Malcolm Willis; Tim Spencer; bazbreed@hotmail.com; 'Colin Atkins'; 'Dave Clarke'; 'David Moffatt'; 'James Miller'; 'Jane Breed'; 'John Buxton'; 'John Pitts'; 'Kelvin Horton'; 'Malcolm Willis'; 'Marie Mead'; 'Maryla Carter'; 'Peter Stafferton'; 'Roger Christopher'; 'Ros Blevins'; 'Steve Jones'; Sue Raven; 'Tim Chamen'; wendy.copper@virginmedia.com
Cc: She who must be obeyed
Subject: RE: A Right Royal Do!
Good to see you now have an official email Sue .
Well done Malcolm for making me laugh , very good thank you and to Jock with hot bum in fire.
And thank you all too for working so hard with or without Royal Cake!
Regards
Steve
From: Malcolm Willis [malcolmJwillis@btinternet.com]
Sent: 14 January 2014 21:13
To: Tim Spencer; bazbreed@hotmail.com; 'Colin Atkins'; 'Dave Clarke'; 'David Moffatt'; 'James Miller'; 'Jane Breed'; 'John Buxton'; 'John Pitts'; 'Kelvin Horton'; 'Malcolm Willis'; 'Marie Mead'; 'Maryla Carter'; 'Peter Stafferton'; 'Roger Christopher'; 'Ros Blevins'; 'Steve Jones'; Steve Squire; Sue Raven; 'Tim Chamen'; wendy.copper@virginmedia.com
Cc: She who must be obeyed
Subject: A Right Royal Do!
The stately limousine sailed into sight like a swan upon an enchanted lake. The blue eye that is heaven became bedazzled by the occasion, even the golden beams of universal eternity dipped in homage. The line of voles, once ordinary looking, became unworthy in the instant. The conveyance glided to a halt. The door opened. Hearts that only seconds ago had been pounding chests for freedom were now in suspended animation and inexplicably in mouths agog in anticipation. And then there she was. Serenely climbing down the stepladders (which had been thoughtfully placed out of view of the cameras), she emerged onto the immediately hallowed turf of SSNR [By Appointment to Her Right Royaltiness the Lady Youthfulness].
The appointed Dave stepped forward and humbled himself. An unfortunate occurrence given the magnitude of the occasion. The reserve Dave stepped into the breach. Another unfortunate occurrence! Finally the ‘if all else fails’ Dave came to the rescue.
Bowing so low it made his eyes water he addressed her Supreme Being: “Your Majestyness, if I may be so humbly bold as to..”
Her ladyship interrupted as only one of noble birth can: “Are you a Dimbleby Dave?”
‘If all else fails’ Dave: “Err no?”
Her Exquisiteness: “Then go away.” The nobility of the extended hand flutter in Dave’s direction and immediately he was dispatched as like a game bird on the 1st September.
Her Exquisite Ladyshipness: “My husband and I..” A half turn to the limo revealed a slight glitch. “Oh bother, I must have left him somewhere again. Never mind, I shall continue. Myself and I remember only too vividly the diem horribilis that was last week. But we must move on.”
So saying Her Supremeliness moved on proffering dainty dexterous digits for the gathered ensemble to pucker up their trembling lips to.
Her Regality: “Oh I say what an obnoxious hound.”
Several male voles looked even further ashamed and took several steps back towards oblivion.
Her Lady Regal Exquisiteness: “I was referring to the dog.”
The males voles teetered on the edge of the abyss that is ordinariness. One brave soul remarked: “That is Jock, a rescued dog, he was found in a large, handbag, with handles. He was probably brought up in it.”
Her Lady Ladyness:“ I must confess that I feel somewhat bewildered by what you have just told me. To be born, or at any rate bred in a handbag, whether it have handles or not, seems to me to display a contempt for the ordinary decencies of family life which reminds one of the worst excesses of the French revolution, and I presume you know what that unfortunate movement led to?
The voles shook their heads, a few too vigorously causing them to fall off!
Brave Soul: “ Err yessum your womanliness. We believe he lost his parents and so we’ve adopted him like.”
Her Lady Ladyshipness: “To lose one parent, my good man, may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness.”
Little old lady with straw sticking out from under one arm (One Arm!!!!): He’s only being truthful you’re Omnipotence. He’s very earnest so he is and that’s what makes him so highly regarded by us all. ” Having said all this the little old lady retired to lie down until lunchtime.
Lady Youthfulness: “Well I suppose that’s the importance of being earnest.”
[I bet that’s made Oscar wild!]
Little old lady with straw sticking out from under one arm (One Arm!!!!): “Who’s Oscar?”
So many congratulation to Lady Sue on yet another birthday without a cake big enough to hold all the candles.
No doubt Mr Pitts will shortly be circulating a stunning array of pics so all who weren’t there today will see what the rest of us were up to. Basically following the Squire around, picking up loads of cut reeds (or in a little old lady’s case an odd bunch here and there!); carting them off to be burnt; telling the Squire not to go in the boggy bit; pulling the Squire out of the boggy bit!; showing the Squire were to cut next; sending out explorers to find where the Squire went!; telling the Squire it’s time to stop cutting; retelling the Squire it’s time to stop cutting; telling the local warden to stop telling the Squire to keep cutting!; getting bored of feeding the fire while the mound of cut reeds keeps growing; setting fire to the mound of cut reeds and blaming it on the person furthest away (Colin); eating muffins; eating biscuits (thanks Lillybeth); eating chocolate cake off the ground (thanks Maryla!); eating Jaffa cakes; moaning that there is no pudding!; moaning that Her Ladyship didn’t bring a birthday cake! and generally having fun.
Thanks to everyone who left early and didn’t stay to watch Jock walk across the ash (several times), try to make a ‘nest’ in the hot ash! (he dashed out pretty quick) and finally lie down in the ash!!!
Malcolm.
GST Voles day at Sandy Smith NR 7/3/2017
Mr T.: (rummaging in the back of the land rover).
Okay we haven't had a task in the Wet Fen before so before we start I just need to explain a few things. Firstly as you can see it's very wet here at the entrance so I will not be taking the land rover in. We will have to carry everything in from here. I want four of you strimming the few sparce areas of rushes to the right hand side and one of you mowing a few clearings on the left hand side. The rest of you can help me clear away various metal rubbish in the copse area and then start raking and forking up what's been cut. There are some drag bags here for you. Plus I shall be cutting down a small birch tree which can be cut up and burnt. So I'll need you to take......
Mr. T. turns around to see he is by himself, the voles having walked off into the distance, (well this is SSNR and we always walk off into the distance).
A little later in camp.
Mr. T.: Are you okay to strim *****? (name removed for legal reasons). Just make sure you don't break anything. Are you okay to use the mower ^^^^? (name removed for same reasons). Just make sure you don't break anything.
Right, I just need to go back and get a few things that you lot 'forgot' to bring over with you.
Mr T. returns.
*****: The strimmer's broke.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get the tools to mend it for you.
Mr. T. returns.
^^^^: The mower's broke.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get the tools to mend it for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Anon.: We haven't got any forks.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get them for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Another Anon.: We need drag bags.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get them for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Yet another Anon.: Must be time for a tea break.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get my bag.
The voles settle down for a drink and a few cakes.
Anon anon anon.: Who's going to tell Mr. T. he's forgotten the donuts?
Sobbing could be heard in the distance.
Some time later on this long, drawn out morning.
Mr. T.: It's no good, the rushes are too damp to burn, we'll have to drag them into the copse and pile them there.
Mr. T. walks away.
^^^^, (don't worry Clarkie, no one will know it's you), immediately strips to the waist, covers his chest in cow dung, (last week's having dried out and beginning to flake off), turns and spits into the northeast wind. Rubbing the spittle off his face he calls out to Logi, the Norse god of fire. "Hey up lad we could do with a bit of help down here." So saying he sets light to a box of fire lighters and throws them into the smouldering embers. Flames immediately rise into the bright blue sky as the fire worshipper dances a merry jig and begins to feed the flames.
And so to lunch.
Mr. T.: No more cutting now we just need to rake up what's been cut and either burn it or pile it in the copse.
Volunteer Warden (no experience necessary): Nah, we can strim loads more, there's plenty of time.
Mr. T.: No, we need to let the fire burn down before we leave tonight.
Volunteer Warden (no experience attained): Nah, we'll have finished in half an hour.
Two hours later.
Mr. T.: Most people have left, how is the fire?
Volunteer Warden (basically no experience full stop): (kicking mud onto the flames) Nearly out, could have cut loads more. Gets dark quickly these nights doesn't it?
Any resemblance to the truth is purely coincidental and has nothing to do with the perpetrator of Myths and Legends in Bedfordshire, (out of print).
Thank you to everyone who came along and dragged their heels, ankles, toes, etc. in the mud. Special thanks to those who kept pulling Wendy out of the deep bits. Nice to see Maryla back with us for a short while (obviously having to build up to it again).
Malcolm
GST Voles day at Sandy Smith NR 7/3/2017
Mr T.: (rummaging in the back of the land rover).
Okay we haven't had a task in the Wet Fen before so before we start I just need to explain a few things. Firstly as you can see it's very wet here at the entrance so I will not be taking the land rover in. We will have to carry everything in from here. I want four of you strimming the few sparce areas of rushes to the right hand side and one of you mowing a few clearings on the left hand side. The rest of you can help me clear away various metal rubbish in the copse area and then start raking and forking up what's been cut. There are some drag bags here for you. Plus I shall be cutting down a small birch tree which can be cut up and burnt. So I'll need you to take......
Mr. T. turns around to see he is by himself, the voles having walked off into the distance, (well this is SSNR and we always walk off into the distance).
A little later in camp.
Mr. T.: Are you okay to strim *****? (name removed for legal reasons). Just make sure you don't break anything. Are you okay to use the mower ^^^^? (name removed for same reasons). Just make sure you don't break anything.
Right, I just need to go back and get a few things that you lot 'forgot' to bring over with you.
Mr T. returns.
*****: The strimmer's broke.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get the tools to mend it for you.
Mr. T. returns.
^^^^: The mower's broke.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get the tools to mend it for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Anon.: We haven't got any forks.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get them for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Another Anon.: We need drag bags.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get them for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Yet another Anon.: Must be time for a tea break.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get my bag.
The voles settle down for a drink and a few cakes.
Anon anon anon.: Who's going to tell Mr. T. he's forgotten the donuts?
Sobbing could be heard in the distance.
Some time later on this long, drawn out morning.
Mr. T.: It's no good, the rushes are too damp to burn, we'll have to drag them into the copse and pile them there.
Mr. T. walks away.
^^^^, (don't worry Clarkie, no one will know it's you), immediately strips to the waist, covers his chest in cow dung, (last week's having dried out and beginning to flake off), turns and spits into the northeast wind. Rubbing the spittle off his face he calls out to Logi, the Norse god of fire. "Hey up lad we could do with a bit of help down here." So saying he sets light to a box of fire lighters and throws them into the smouldering embers. Flames immediately rise into the bright blue sky as the fire worshipper dances a merry jig and begins to feed the flames.
And so to lunch.
Mr. T.: No more cutting now we just need to rake up what's been cut and either burn it or pile it in the copse.
Volunteer Warden (no experience necessary): Nah, we can strim loads more, there's plenty of time.
Mr. T.: No, we need to let the fire burn down before we leave tonight.
Volunteer Warden (no experience attained): Nah, we'll have finished in half an hour.
Two hours later.
Mr. T.: Most people have left, how is the fire?
Volunteer Warden (basically no experience full stop): (kicking mud onto the flames) Nearly out, could have cut loads more. Gets dark quickly these nights doesn't it?
Any resemblance to the truth is purely coincidental and has nothing to do with the perpetrator of Myths and Legends in Bedfordshire, (out of print).
Thank you to everyone who came along and dragged their heels, ankles, toes, etc. in the mud. Special thanks to those who kept pulling Wendy out of the deep bits. Nice to see Maryla back with us for a short while (obviously having to build up to it again).
Malcolm
Date:Jan 15 2014, 10:51 AM
Subject:
RE: A Right Royal Do!
Show full header
Dear All
Thank you your Majesty and loyal subjects. This speedy correspondence has saved me a lot of palava etc so I shall just say my snaps are up on flickr now at www.flickr.com/photos/pitzys_pyx/.
I should like to say that we missed TWF all day (yes we did) but cold 90s humour might here say "but I couldn't" just for a snigger. I should also like to say thank you to:
Maryla for her Sandy Smith Mud Pies
Liz M for her wonderful shortcake biscuits (the choc chip ones were particularly good :))
Malcolm X for his fruit and vanilla buns, they were very very tasty.
Whoever brought the Jaffa Cakes
To you all for your laughs and banter.
Dave Lowe for his folk and Beetles songs.
For those who wondered why I had stopped by the road side on my way home see the first snap.
Cheers
JP
Now this is what makes Tuesdays such fun and keeps me nearly sane – you should see me when I’m really balmy! Very many apologies for the lack of cake – I will try hardy next time (depending on the day and the venue!).
Thanks for all the grovelling and the wonderful singing. Could you just shorten my name to She as long as I promise not to do an “Ursula Undress” and wear a chamois leather. Thanks also for the decent weather, not that it was cold where I was standing!
I can report that I was at the Rufus Centre this afternoon and there was JB, Audrey and their lovely daughter. JB allowed me to feel his new pulse and I can recommend it as a strange experience and I think he’s got a battery somewhere that gives electric twitches.
Bon voyage to the Breeds who will be sadly missed for a while. See the rest of you somewhere in the wilds of Bedfordshire and hopefully next Tuesday.
Thanks Mr. Kippling – your writing talents are beyond compare and your cakes are pretty wonderful too. Tally Ho! She
From: Steve Squire [mailto:Steve.Squire@greensandtrust.org]
Sent: 14 January 2014 21:36
To: Malcolm Willis; Tim Spencer; bazbreed@hotmail.com; 'Colin Atkins'; 'Dave Clarke'; 'David Moffatt'; 'James Miller'; 'Jane Breed'; 'John Buxton'; 'John Pitts'; 'Kelvin Horton'; 'Malcolm Willis'; 'Marie Mead'; 'Maryla Carter'; 'Peter Stafferton'; 'Roger Christopher'; 'Ros Blevins'; 'Steve Jones'; Sue Raven; 'Tim Chamen'; wendy.copper@virginmedia.com
Cc: She who must be obeyed
Subject: RE: A Right Royal Do!
Good to see you now have an official email Sue .
Well done Malcolm for making me laugh , very good thank you and to Jock with hot bum in fire.
And thank you all too for working so hard with or without Royal Cake!
Regards
Steve
From: Malcolm Willis [malcolmJwillis@btinternet.com]
Sent: 14 January 2014 21:13
To: Tim Spencer; bazbreed@hotmail.com; 'Colin Atkins'; 'Dave Clarke'; 'David Moffatt'; 'James Miller'; 'Jane Breed'; 'John Buxton'; 'John Pitts'; 'Kelvin Horton'; 'Malcolm Willis'; 'Marie Mead'; 'Maryla Carter'; 'Peter Stafferton'; 'Roger Christopher'; 'Ros Blevins'; 'Steve Jones'; Steve Squire; Sue Raven; 'Tim Chamen'; wendy.copper@virginmedia.com
Cc: She who must be obeyed
Subject: A Right Royal Do!
The stately limousine sailed into sight like a swan upon an enchanted lake. The blue eye that is heaven became bedazzled by the occasion, even the golden beams of universal eternity dipped in homage. The line of voles, once ordinary looking, became unworthy in the instant. The conveyance glided to a halt. The door opened. Hearts that only seconds ago had been pounding chests for freedom were now in suspended animation and inexplicably in mouths agog in anticipation. And then there she was. Serenely climbing down the stepladders (which had been thoughtfully placed out of view of the cameras), she emerged onto the immediately hallowed turf of SSNR [By Appointment to Her Right Royaltiness the Lady Youthfulness].
The appointed Dave stepped forward and humbled himself. An unfortunate occurrence given the magnitude of the occasion. The reserve Dave stepped into the breach. Another unfortunate occurrence! Finally the ‘if all else fails’ Dave came to the rescue.
Bowing so low it made his eyes water he addressed her Supreme Being: “Your Majestyness, if I may be so humbly bold as to..”
Her ladyship interrupted as only one of noble birth can: “Are you a Dimbleby Dave?”
‘If all else fails’ Dave: “Err no?”
Her Exquisiteness: “Then go away.” The nobility of the extended hand flutter in Dave’s direction and immediately he was dispatched as like a game bird on the 1st September.
Her Exquisite Ladyshipness: “My husband and I..” A half turn to the limo revealed a slight glitch. “Oh bother, I must have left him somewhere again. Never mind, I shall continue. Myself and I remember only too vividly the diem horribilis that was last week. But we must move on.”
So saying Her Supremeliness moved on proffering dainty dexterous digits for the gathered ensemble to pucker up their trembling lips to.
Her Regality: “Oh I say what an obnoxious hound.”
Several male voles looked even further ashamed and took several steps back towards oblivion.
Her Lady Regal Exquisiteness: “I was referring to the dog.”
The males voles teetered on the edge of the abyss that is ordinariness. One brave soul remarked: “That is Jock, a rescued dog, he was found in a large, handbag, with handles. He was probably brought up in it.”
Her Lady Ladyness:“ I must confess that I feel somewhat bewildered by what you have just told me. To be born, or at any rate bred in a handbag, whether it have handles or not, seems to me to display a contempt for the ordinary decencies of family life which reminds one of the worst excesses of the French revolution, and I presume you know what that unfortunate movement led to?
The voles shook their heads, a few too vigorously causing them to fall off!
Brave Soul: “ Err yessum your womanliness. We believe he lost his parents and so we’ve adopted him like.”
Her Lady Ladyshipness: “To lose one parent, my good man, may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness.”
Little old lady with straw sticking out from under one arm (One Arm!!!!): He’s only being truthful you’re Omnipotence. He’s very earnest so he is and that’s what makes him so highly regarded by us all. ” Having said all this the little old lady retired to lie down until lunchtime.
Lady Youthfulness: “Well I suppose that’s the importance of being earnest.”
[I bet that’s made Oscar wild!]
Little old lady with straw sticking out from under one arm (One Arm!!!!): “Who’s Oscar?”
So many congratulation to Lady Sue on yet another birthday without a cake big enough to hold all the candles.
No doubt Mr Pitts will shortly be circulating a stunning array of pics so all who weren’t there today will see what the rest of us were up to. Basically following the Squire around, picking up loads of cut reeds (or in a little old lady’s case an odd bunch here and there!); carting them off to be burnt; telling the Squire not to go in the boggy bit; pulling the Squire out of the boggy bit!; showing the Squire were to cut next; sending out explorers to find where the Squire went!; telling the Squire it’s time to stop cutting; retelling the Squire it’s time to stop cutting; telling the local warden to stop telling the Squire to keep cutting!; getting bored of feeding the fire while the mound of cut reeds keeps growing; setting fire to the mound of cut reeds and blaming it on the person furthest away (Colin); eating muffins; eating biscuits (thanks Lillybeth); eating chocolate cake off the ground (thanks Maryla!); eating Jaffa cakes; moaning that there is no pudding!; moaning that Her Ladyship didn’t bring a birthday cake! and generally having fun.
Thanks to everyone who left early and didn’t stay to watch Jock walk across the ash (several times), try to make a ‘nest’ in the hot ash! (he dashed out pretty quick) and finally lie down in the ash!!!
Malcolm.
Date:Jan 15 2014, 10:51 AM
Subject:
RE: A Right Royal Do!
Show full header
Dear All
Thank you your Majesty and loyal subjects. This speedy correspondence has saved me a lot of palava etc so I shall just say my snaps are up on flickr now at www.flickr.com/photos/pitzys_pyx/.
I should like to say that we missed TWF all day (yes we did) but cold 90s humour might here say "but I couldn't" just for a snigger. I should also like to say thank you to:
Maryla for her Sandy Smith Mud Pies
Liz M for her wonderful shortcake biscuits (the choc chip ones were particularly good :))
Malcolm X for his fruit and vanilla buns, they were very very tasty.
Whoever brought the Jaffa Cakes
To you all for your laughs and banter.
Dave Lowe for his folk and Beetles songs.
For those who wondered why I had stopped by the road side on my way home see the first snap.
Cheers
JP
Now this is what makes Tuesdays such fun and keeps me nearly sane – you should see me when I’m really balmy! Very many apologies for the lack of cake – I will try hardy next time (depending on the day and the venue!).
Thanks for all the grovelling and the wonderful singing. Could you just shorten my name to She as long as I promise not to do an “Ursula Undress” and wear a chamois leather. Thanks also for the decent weather, not that it was cold where I was standing!
I can report that I was at the Rufus Centre this afternoon and there was JB, Audrey and their lovely daughter. JB allowed me to feel his new pulse and I can recommend it as a strange experience and I think he’s got a battery somewhere that gives electric twitches.
Bon voyage to the Breeds who will be sadly missed for a while. See the rest of you somewhere in the wilds of Bedfordshire and hopefully next Tuesday.
Thanks Mr. Kippling – your writing talents are beyond compare and your cakes are pretty wonderful too. Tally Ho! She
From: Steve Squire [mailto:Steve.Squire@greensandtrust.org]
Sent: 14 January 2014 21:36
To: Malcolm Willis; Tim Spencer; bazbreed@hotmail.com; 'Colin Atkins'; 'Dave Clarke'; 'David Moffatt'; 'James Miller'; 'Jane Breed'; 'John Buxton'; 'John Pitts'; 'Kelvin Horton'; 'Malcolm Willis'; 'Marie Mead'; 'Maryla Carter'; 'Peter Stafferton'; 'Roger Christopher'; 'Ros Blevins'; 'Steve Jones'; Sue Raven; 'Tim Chamen'; wendy.copper@virginmedia.com
Cc: She who must be obeyed
Subject: RE: A Right Royal Do!
Good to see you now have an official email Sue .
Well done Malcolm for making me laugh , very good thank you and to Jock with hot bum in fire.
And thank you all too for working so hard with or without Royal Cake!
Regards
Steve
From: Malcolm Willis [malcolmJwillis@btinternet.com]
Sent: 14 January 2014 21:13
To: Tim Spencer; bazbreed@hotmail.com; 'Colin Atkins'; 'Dave Clarke'; 'David Moffatt'; 'James Miller'; 'Jane Breed'; 'John Buxton'; 'John Pitts'; 'Kelvin Horton'; 'Malcolm Willis'; 'Marie Mead'; 'Maryla Carter'; 'Peter Stafferton'; 'Roger Christopher'; 'Ros Blevins'; 'Steve Jones'; Steve Squire; Sue Raven; 'Tim Chamen'; wendy.copper@virginmedia.com
Cc: She who must be obeyed
Subject: A Right Royal Do!
The stately limousine sailed into sight like a swan upon an enchanted lake. The blue eye that is heaven became bedazzled by the occasion, even the golden beams of universal eternity dipped in homage. The line of voles, once ordinary looking, became unworthy in the instant. The conveyance glided to a halt. The door opened. Hearts that only seconds ago had been pounding chests for freedom were now in suspended animation and inexplicably in mouths agog in anticipation. And then there she was. Serenely climbing down the stepladders (which had been thoughtfully placed out of view of the cameras), she emerged onto the immediately hallowed turf of SSNR [By Appointment to Her Right Royaltiness the Lady Youthfulness].
The appointed Dave stepped forward and humbled himself. An unfortunate occurrence given the magnitude of the occasion. The reserve Dave stepped into the breach. Another unfortunate occurrence! Finally the ‘if all else fails’ Dave came to the rescue.
Bowing so low it made his eyes water he addressed her Supreme Being: “Your Majestyness, if I may be so humbly bold as to..”
Her ladyship interrupted as only one of noble birth can: “Are you a Dimbleby Dave?”
‘If all else fails’ Dave: “Err no?”
Her Exquisiteness: “Then go away.” The nobility of the extended hand flutter in Dave’s direction and immediately he was dispatched as like a game bird on the 1st September.
Her Exquisite Ladyshipness: “My husband and I..” A half turn to the limo revealed a slight glitch. “Oh bother, I must have left him somewhere again. Never mind, I shall continue. Myself and I remember only too vividly the diem horribilis that was last week. But we must move on.”
So saying Her Supremeliness moved on proffering dainty dexterous digits for the gathered ensemble to pucker up their trembling lips to.
Her Regality: “Oh I say what an obnoxious hound.”
Several male voles looked even further ashamed and took several steps back towards oblivion.
Her Lady Regal Exquisiteness: “I was referring to the dog.”
The males voles teetered on the edge of the abyss that is ordinariness. One brave soul remarked: “That is Jock, a rescued dog, he was found in a large, handbag, with handles. He was probably brought up in it.”
Her Lady Ladyness:“ I must confess that I feel somewhat bewildered by what you have just told me. To be born, or at any rate bred in a handbag, whether it have handles or not, seems to me to display a contempt for the ordinary decencies of family life which reminds one of the worst excesses of the French revolution, and I presume you know what that unfortunate movement led to?
The voles shook their heads, a few too vigorously causing them to fall off!
Brave Soul: “ Err yessum your womanliness. We believe he lost his parents and so we’ve adopted him like.”
Her Lady Ladyshipness: “To lose one parent, my good man, may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness.”
Little old lady with straw sticking out from under one arm (One Arm!!!!): He’s only being truthful you’re Omnipotence. He’s very earnest so he is and that’s what makes him so highly regarded by us all. ” Having said all this the little old lady retired to lie down until lunchtime.
Lady Youthfulness: “Well I suppose that’s the importance of being earnest.”
[I bet that’s made Oscar wild!]
Little old lady with straw sticking out from under one arm (One Arm!!!!): “Who’s Oscar?”
So many congratulation to Lady Sue on yet another birthday without a cake big enough to hold all the candles.
No doubt Mr Pitts will shortly be circulating a stunning array of pics so all who weren’t there today will see what the rest of us were up to. Basically following the Squire around, picking up loads of cut reeds (or in a little old lady’s case an odd bunch here and there!); carting them off to be burnt; telling the Squire not to go in the boggy bit; pulling the Squire out of the boggy bit!; showing the Squire were to cut next; sending out explorers to find where the Squire went!; telling the Squire it’s time to stop cutting; retelling the Squire it’s time to stop cutting; telling the local warden to stop telling the Squire to keep cutting!; getting bored of feeding the fire while the mound of cut reeds keeps growing; setting fire to the mound of cut reeds and blaming it on the person furthest away (Colin); eating muffins; eating biscuits (thanks Lillybeth); eating chocolate cake off the ground (thanks Maryla!); eating Jaffa cakes; moaning that there is no pudding!; moaning that Her Ladyship didn’t bring a birthday cake! and generally having fun.
Thanks to everyone who left early and didn’t stay to watch Jock walk across the ash (several times), try to make a ‘nest’ in the hot ash! (he dashed out pretty quick) and finally lie down in the ash!!!
Malcolm.
Date:Jan 15 2014, 10:51 AM
Subject:
RE: A Right Royal Do!
Show full header
Dear All
Thank you your Majesty and loyal subjects. This speedy correspondence has saved me a lot of palava etc so I shall just say my snaps are up on flickr now at www.flickr.com/photos/pitzys_pyx/.
I should like to say that we missed TWF all day (yes we did) but cold 90s humour might here say "but I couldn't" just for a snigger. I should also like to say thank you to:
Maryla for her Sandy Smith Mud Pies
Liz M for her wonderful shortcake biscuits (the choc chip ones were particularly good :))
Malcolm X for his fruit and vanilla buns, they were very very tasty.
Whoever brought the Jaffa Cakes
To you all for your laughs and banter.
Dave Lowe for his folk and Beetles songs.
For those who wondered why I had stopped by the road side on my way home see the first snap.
Cheers
JP
Now this is what makes Tuesdays such fun and keeps me nearly sane – you should see me when I’m really balmy! Very many apologies for the lack of cake – I will try hardy next time (depending on the day and the venue!).
Thanks for all the grovelling and the wonderful singing. Could you just shorten my name to She as long as I promise not to do an “Ursula Undress” and wear a chamois leather. Thanks also for the decent weather, not that it was cold where I was standing!
I can report that I was at the Rufus Centre this afternoon and there was JB, Audrey and their lovely daughter. JB allowed me to feel his new pulse and I can recommend it as a strange experience and I think he’s got a battery somewhere that gives electric twitches.
Bon voyage to the Breeds who will be sadly missed for a while. See the rest of you somewhere in the wilds of Bedfordshire and hopefully next Tuesday.
Thanks Mr. Kippling – your writing talents are beyond compare and your cakes are pretty wonderful too. Tally Ho! She
From: Steve Squire [mailto:Steve.Squire@greensandtrust.org]
Sent: 14 January 2014 21:36
To: Malcolm Willis; Tim Spencer; bazbreed@hotmail.com; 'Colin Atkins'; 'Dave Clarke'; 'David Moffatt'; 'James Miller'; 'Jane Breed'; 'John Buxton'; 'John Pitts'; 'Kelvin Horton'; 'Malcolm Willis'; 'Marie Mead'; 'Maryla Carter'; 'Peter Stafferton'; 'Roger Christopher'; 'Ros Blevins'; 'Steve Jones'; Sue Raven; 'Tim Chamen'; wendy.copper@virginmedia.com
Cc: She who must be obeyed
Subject: RE: A Right Royal Do!
Good to see you now have an official email Sue .
Well done Malcolm for making me laugh , very good thank you and to Jock with hot bum in fire.
And thank you all too for working so hard with or without Royal Cake!
Regards
Steve
From: Malcolm Willis [malcolmJwillis@btinternet.com]
Sent: 14 January 2014 21:13
To: Tim Spencer; bazbreed@hotmail.com; 'Colin Atkins'; 'Dave Clarke'; 'David Moffatt'; 'James Miller'; 'Jane Breed'; 'John Buxton'; 'John Pitts'; 'Kelvin Horton'; 'Malcolm Willis'; 'Marie Mead'; 'Maryla Carter'; 'Peter Stafferton'; 'Roger Christopher'; 'Ros Blevins'; 'Steve Jones'; Steve Squire; Sue Raven; 'Tim Chamen'; wendy.copper@virginmedia.com
Cc: She who must be obeyed
Subject: A Right Royal Do!
The stately limousine sailed into sight like a swan upon an enchanted lake. The blue eye that is heaven became bedazzled by the occasion, even the golden beams of universal eternity dipped in homage. The line of voles, once ordinary looking, became unworthy in the instant. The conveyance glided to a halt. The door opened. Hearts that only seconds ago had been pounding chests for freedom were now in suspended animation and inexplicably in mouths agog in anticipation. And then there she was. Serenely climbing down the stepladders (which had been thoughtfully placed out of view of the cameras), she emerged onto the immediately hallowed turf of SSNR [By Appointment to Her Right Royaltiness the Lady Youthfulness].
The appointed Dave stepped forward and humbled himself. An unfortunate occurrence given the magnitude of the occasion. The reserve Dave stepped into the breach. Another unfortunate occurrence! Finally the ‘if all else fails’ Dave came to the rescue.
Bowing so low it made his eyes water he addressed her Supreme Being: “Your Majestyness, if I may be so humbly bold as to..”
Her ladyship interrupted as only one of noble birth can: “Are you a Dimbleby Dave?”
‘If all else fails’ Dave: “Err no?”
Her Exquisiteness: “Then go away.” The nobility of the extended hand flutter in Dave’s direction and immediately he was dispatched as like a game bird on the 1st September.
Her Exquisite Ladyshipness: “My husband and I..” A half turn to the limo revealed a slight glitch. “Oh bother, I must have left him somewhere again. Never mind, I shall continue. Myself and I remember only too vividly the diem horribilis that was last week. But we must move on.”
So saying Her Supremeliness moved on proffering dainty dexterous digits for the gathered ensemble to pucker up their trembling lips to.
Her Regality: “Oh I say what an obnoxious hound.”
Several male voles looked even further ashamed and took several steps back towards oblivion.
Her Lady Regal Exquisiteness: “I was referring to the dog.”
The males voles teetered on the edge of the abyss that is ordinariness. One brave soul remarked: “That is Jock, a rescued dog, he was found in a large, handbag, with handles. He was probably brought up in it.”
Her Lady Ladyness:“ I must confess that I feel somewhat bewildered by what you have just told me. To be born, or at any rate bred in a handbag, whether it have handles or not, seems to me to display a contempt for the ordinary decencies of family life which reminds one of the worst excesses of the French revolution, and I presume you know what that unfortunate movement led to?
The voles shook their heads, a few too vigorously causing them to fall off!
Brave Soul: “ Err yessum your womanliness. We believe he lost his parents and so we’ve adopted him like.”
Her Lady Ladyshipness: “To lose one parent, my good man, may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness.”
Little old lady with straw sticking out from under one arm (One Arm!!!!): He’s only being truthful you’re Omnipotence. He’s very earnest so he is and that’s what makes him so highly regarded by us all. ” Having said all this the little old lady retired to lie down until lunchtime.
Lady Youthfulness: “Well I suppose that’s the importance of being earnest.”
[I bet that’s made Oscar wild!]
Little old lady with straw sticking out from under one arm (One Arm!!!!): “Who’s Oscar?”
So many congratulation to Lady Sue on yet another birthday without a cake big enough to hold all the candles.
No doubt Mr Pitts will shortly be circulating a stunning array of pics so all who weren’t there today will see what the rest of us were up to. Basically following the Squire around, picking up loads of cut reeds (or in a little old lady’s case an odd bunch here and there!); carting them off to be burnt; telling the Squire not to go in the boggy bit; pulling the Squire out of the boggy bit!; showing the Squire were to cut next; sending out explorers to find where the Squire went!; telling the Squire it’s time to stop cutting; retelling the Squire it’s time to stop cutting; telling the local warden to stop telling the Squire to keep cutting!; getting bored of feeding the fire while the mound of cut reeds keeps growing; setting fire to the mound of cut reeds and blaming it on the person furthest away (Colin); eating muffins; eating biscuits (thanks Lillybeth); eating chocolate cake off the ground (thanks Maryla!); eating Jaffa cakes; moaning that there is no pudding!; moaning that Her Ladyship didn’t bring a birthday cake! and generally having fun.
Thanks to everyone who left early and didn’t stay to watch Jock walk across the ash (several times), try to make a ‘nest’ in the hot ash! (he dashed out pretty quick) and finally lie down in the ash!!!
Malcolm.
GST Voles day at Sandy Smith NR 7/3/2017
Mr T.: (rummaging in the back of the land rover).
Okay we haven't had a task in the Wet Fen before so before we start I just need to explain a few things. Firstly as you can see it's very wet here at the entrance so I will not be taking the land rover in. We will have to carry everything in from here. I want four of you strimming the few sparce areas of rushes to the right hand side and one of you mowing a few clearings on the left hand side. The rest of you can help me clear away various metal rubbish in the copse area and then start raking and forking up what's been cut. There are some drag bags here for you. Plus I shall be cutting down a small birch tree which can be cut up and burnt. So I'll need you to take......
Mr. T. turns around to see he is by himself, the voles having walked off into the distance, (well this is SSNR and we always walk off into the distance).
A little later in camp.
Mr. T.: Are you okay to strim *****? (name removed for legal reasons). Just make sure you don't break anything. Are you okay to use the mower ^^^^? (name removed for same reasons). Just make sure you don't break anything.
Right, I just need to go back and get a few things that you lot 'forgot' to bring over with you.
Mr T. returns.
*****: The strimmer's broke.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get the tools to mend it for you.
Mr. T. returns.
^^^^: The mower's broke.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get the tools to mend it for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Anon.: We haven't got any forks.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get them for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Another Anon.: We need drag bags.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get them for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Yet another Anon.: Must be time for a tea break.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get my bag.
The voles settle down for a drink and a few cakes.
Anon anon anon.: Who's going to tell Mr. T. he's forgotten the donuts?
Sobbing could be heard in the distance.
Some time later on this long, drawn out morning.
Mr. T.: It's no good, the rushes are too damp to burn, we'll have to drag them into the copse and pile them there.
Mr. T. walks away.
^^^^, (don't worry Clarkie, no one will know it's you), immediately strips to the waist, covers his chest in cow dung, (last week's having dried out and beginning to flake off), turns and spits into the northeast wind. Rubbing the spittle off his face he calls out to Logi, the Norse god of fire. "Hey up lad we could do with a bit of help down here." So saying he sets light to a box of fire lighters and throws them into the smouldering embers. Flames immediately rise into the bright blue sky as the fire worshipper dances a merry jig and begins to feed the flames.
And so to lunch.
Mr. T.: No more cutting now we just need to rake up what's been cut and either burn it or pile it in the copse.
Volunteer Warden (no experience necessary): Nah, we can strim loads more, there's plenty of time.
Mr. T.: No, we need to let the fire burn down before we leave tonight.
Volunteer Warden (no experience attained): Nah, we'll have finished in half an hour.
Two hours later.
Mr. T.: Most people have left, how is the fire?
Volunteer Warden (basically no experience full stop): (kicking mud onto the flames) Nearly out, could have cut loads more. Gets dark quickly these nights doesn't it?
Any resemblance to the truth is purely coincidental and has nothing to do with the perpetrator of Myths and Legends in Bedfordshire, (out of print).
Thank you to everyone who came along and dragged their heels, ankles, toes, etc. in the mud. Special thanks to those who kept pulling Wendy out of the deep bits. Nice to see Maryla back with us for a short while (obviously having to build up to it again).
Malcolm
GST day at Flitton Moor removing Himalayan Balsam 18/7/2017 TL0536
Subject: Next Tuesday's Task
Hi All,
I hope you’ve all stopped itching from the nettle stings on Tuesday!
Next Week’s task will be balsam pulling downstream from Flitton Moor and will be led by Andrew (his last day). The site is accessible from Flitton Moor, so meet at the barn at Flitton Moor at 10am (map attached).
The good news is that there are nowhere near as many nettles as at Sandy Smith but there is plenty of balsam and it’s along steep-sided river/ditch banks and the only way to deal with it will be to get in! Fortunately, the water doesn’t look too deep!
Andrew will bring waders to the task but it might be a good idea if everyone could bring wellies – there might be some areas where wellies might be better than cumbersome waders.
There will also be some brush-cutting.
Regards,
Tim
Hello balsam pullers
A thank you from us to whoever removed the doggy doo doo bag on our behalf. We lost track of it when the bags were moved downstream and then forgot to look for it as we left. It wasn't there when Baz went back for it this evening so we must presume a kindly soul disposed of it on our behalf.
The list of emails above is a bit thin - people certainly on task but we don't have emails for them all, e.g. Barbara & Derek. Please forward to anyone you see is missing from our list.
See you soon
Jane & Baz (irresponsible dog minders)
Hi Jane & Baz & fellow Voles
Lola's bag was there when I came back to get my water/tea.
Anyway what a day, even though the gang finished earlier than usual it was just as well. It was boiling hot and very sticky. You were all a bit smelly too but you were magnificent in victory. I shall not forget Jim's giant leap and wrestle with several big stands of HB across a ditch filled mainly with un-fathomed amounts of ooze covered by a layer of Equisetum (Horsetail) or hearing about Jim's vanishing into another pool where they had to call the RNLI to drag him ashore. Or the happy look on Merv's face relating the joy of submerging into the same primordiall ooze or Dave & others who gallantly waded from Flitton Bridge toend of the track. Then there was Maryla, determined to get her full wack of HB in the 1&1/2 hours available to he, roped on a very steep bank grabbing each plant with a wicked glee, take that you naughty naughty HB you. Well you get my drift, the Voles were down and dirty but unbowed.
A bit of the atmosphere in my snaps at www.flickr.com/photos/pitzys_pyx/
Sadly we had to say farewell to Andrew who has moved on to pastures drier than Flitton Moor.
Take care & see you next week?
JP (Pitzy)
GST day at Flitton Moor removing Himalayan Balsam 18/7/2017 TL0536
Subject: Next Tuesday's Task
Hi All,
I hope you’ve all stopped itching from the nettle stings on Tuesday!
Next Week’s task will be balsam pulling downstream from Flitton Moor and will be led by Andrew (his last day). The site is accessible from Flitton Moor, so meet at the barn at Flitton Moor at 10am (map attached).
The good news is that there are nowhere near as many nettles as at Sandy Smith but there is plenty of balsam and it’s along steep-sided river/ditch banks and the only way to deal with it will be to get in! Fortunately, the water doesn’t look too deep!
Andrew will bring waders to the task but it might be a good idea if everyone could bring wellies – there might be some areas where wellies might be better than cumbersome waders.
There will also be some brush-cutting.
Regards,
Tim
Hello balsam pullers
A thank you from us to whoever removed the doggy doo doo bag on our behalf. We lost track of it when the bags were moved downstream and then forgot to look for it as we left. It wasn't there when Baz went back for it this evening so we must presume a kindly soul disposed of it on our behalf.
The list of emails above is a bit thin - people certainly on task but we don't have emails for them all, e.g. Barbara & Derek. Please forward to anyone you see is missing from our list.
See you soon
Jane & Baz (irresponsible dog minders)
Hi Jane & Baz & fellow Voles
Lola's bag was there when I came back to get my water/tea.
Anyway what a day, even though the gang finished earlier than usual it was just as well. It was boiling hot and very sticky. You were all a bit smelly too but you were magnificent in victory. I shall not forget Jim's giant leap and wrestle with several big stands of HB across a ditch filled mainly with un-fathomed amounts of ooze covered by a layer of Equisetum (Horsetail) or hearing about Jim's vanishing into another pool where they had to call the RNLI to drag him ashore. Or the happy look on Merv's face relating the joy of submerging into the same primordiall ooze or Dave & others who gallantly waded from Flitton Bridge toend of the track. Then there was Maryla, determined to get her full wack of HB in the 1&1/2 hours available to he, roped on a very steep bank grabbing each plant with a wicked glee, take that you naughty naughty HB you. Well you get my drift, the Voles were down and dirty but unbowed.
A bit of the atmosphere in my snaps at www.flickr.com/photos/pitzys_pyx/
Sadly we had to say farewell to Andrew who has moved on to pastures drier than Flitton Moor.
Take care & see you next week?
JP (Pitzy)
GST Voles day at Sandy Smith NR 7/3/2017
Mr T.: (rummaging in the back of the land rover).
Okay we haven't had a task in the Wet Fen before so before we start I just need to explain a few things. Firstly as you can see it's very wet here at the entrance so I will not be taking the land rover in. We will have to carry everything in from here. I want four of you strimming the few sparce areas of rushes to the right hand side and one of you mowing a few clearings on the left hand side. The rest of you can help me clear away various metal rubbish in the copse area and then start raking and forking up what's been cut. There are some drag bags here for you. Plus I shall be cutting down a small birch tree which can be cut up and burnt. So I'll need you to take......
Mr. T. turns around to see he is by himself, the voles having walked off into the distance, (well this is SSNR and we always walk off into the distance).
A little later in camp.
Mr. T.: Are you okay to strim *****? (name removed for legal reasons). Just make sure you don't break anything. Are you okay to use the mower ^^^^? (name removed for same reasons). Just make sure you don't break anything.
Right, I just need to go back and get a few things that you lot 'forgot' to bring over with you.
Mr T. returns.
*****: The strimmer's broke.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get the tools to mend it for you.
Mr. T. returns.
^^^^: The mower's broke.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get the tools to mend it for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Anon.: We haven't got any forks.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get them for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Another Anon.: We need drag bags.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get them for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Yet another Anon.: Must be time for a tea break.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get my bag.
The voles settle down for a drink and a few cakes.
Anon anon anon.: Who's going to tell Mr. T. he's forgotten the donuts?
Sobbing could be heard in the distance.
Some time later on this long, drawn out morning.
Mr. T.: It's no good, the rushes are too damp to burn, we'll have to drag them into the copse and pile them there.
Mr. T. walks away.
^^^^, (don't worry Clarkie, no one will know it's you), immediately strips to the waist, covers his chest in cow dung, (last week's having dried out and beginning to flake off), turns and spits into the northeast wind. Rubbing the spittle off his face he calls out to Logi, the Norse god of fire. "Hey up lad we could do with a bit of help down here." So saying he sets light to a box of fire lighters and throws them into the smouldering embers. Flames immediately rise into the bright blue sky as the fire worshipper dances a merry jig and begins to feed the flames.
And so to lunch.
Mr. T.: No more cutting now we just need to rake up what's been cut and either burn it or pile it in the copse.
Volunteer Warden (no experience necessary): Nah, we can strim loads more, there's plenty of time.
Mr. T.: No, we need to let the fire burn down before we leave tonight.
Volunteer Warden (no experience attained): Nah, we'll have finished in half an hour.
Two hours later.
Mr. T.: Most people have left, how is the fire?
Volunteer Warden (basically no experience full stop): (kicking mud onto the flames) Nearly out, could have cut loads more. Gets dark quickly these nights doesn't it?
Any resemblance to the truth is purely coincidental and has nothing to do with the perpetrator of Myths and Legends in Bedfordshire, (out of print).
Thank you to everyone who came along and dragged their heels, ankles, toes, etc. in the mud. Special thanks to those who kept pulling Wendy out of the deep bits. Nice to see Maryla back with us for a short while (obviously having to build up to it again).
Malcolm
Jiráskovo náměstí, autor pomníku prof. Karel Pokorný, spolupráce Jaroslav Fragner. Bronzový pomník představuje spisovatele v nadživotní velikosti, sedícího a píšícího na vysokém žulovém soklu. Pomník vznikl v r. 1954, osazen byl v r. 1960. V pozadí pomníku je dům, v němž v letech 1903 - 1930 Jirásek bydlel.
V místech, kde v letech 1992 - 1996 vyrostla budova Tančícího domu, stával dům, který byl zničen při americkém leteckém náletu na Prahu 14. února 1945. K téměř úplnému odstranění trosek došlo v roce 1946, definitivně až v roce 1960, a to demolicí zbývajících kleneb a zbytků zdiva.
Přestože o zástavbě proluky bylo rozhodnuto již v roce 1963, k zásadnímu kroku došlo až v roce 1992, kdy pozemek zakoupila nizozemská pojišťovna Nationale Nederlanden. Ke stavební realizaci byl vybrán projekt architekta Vlada Miluniče (nar. 1941 v chorvatském Záhřebu). Milunič si ke spolupráci přizval světově uznávaného architekta a designéra Franka O. Gehryho (nar. 1929 v Torontu).
Základní kámen byl položen 3. 9. 1994 a hrubá stavba byla dokončena v únoru 1996. Slavnostní otevření se uskutečnilo 20. 6. 1996.
V jádru administrativní budova má sedm nadzemních podlaží a dvě podlaží podzemní. Konstrukce objektu je železobetonová a bylo zde použito devadesát devět originálních fasádních panelů. Stavba byla v úrovni ustálené vodní hladiny spodní vody založena na železobetonové desce podporované soustavou vrtaných pilot. Staticky byly podchyceny i oba sousední objekty.
Budova je též nazývána metaforicky "Tančící dům". Toto pojmenování získala díky svým věžím, které připomínají postavy tanečníků Ginger Rogersové a Freda Astaira. Tanečníka představuje věž kamenná a jeho partnerku věž skleněná. Na vrcholu věže symbolizující postavu ženy je kopule s konstrukcí z kovových trubek potažená nerez síťovinou s oky o rozměrech 10 x 10 mm, zahalená do pomyslných vlasů. Představuje hlavu medúzy. Autorem této kopule je Frank O. Gehry.
Interiéry byly z části navrženy britskou architektou českého původu Evou Jiřičnou.
Budova získala prestižní ocenění amerického časopisu Time - zvítězila v kategorii design roku 1996.
Alois Jirásek
český romanopisec a dramatik
narozen 23. 8. 1851 v Hronově u Náchoda
zemřel 12. 3. 1930 v Praze, urna je na hřbitově v Hronově
Životopis
Jirásek se narodil jako syn tkalce, který se později vyučil pekařem. Jako chlapec strávil rok ve Velké Vsi u Broumova, aby se naučil německy a mohl pak v letech 1863 - 1867 studovat na německém gymnáziu v Broumově. Pak pokračoval na českém gymnáziu v Hradci Králové, maturoval roku 1871. Kromě literárního měl i značné malířské nadání, ale z existenčních důvodů zvolil studia historie na filozofické fakultě Karlovy univerzity v Praze. Od roku 1874 působil jako středoškolský profesor dějepisu na gymnáziu a později na reálce v Litomyšli, od roku 1888 v Praze. Od studentských let se přátelil s Mikolášem Alšem a v Praze se sblížil s dalšími umělci, zejména s lidmi z okruhu časopisů Ruch a Lumír, jako např. Josef Václav Sládek, Karel Václav Rais, Zikmund Winter i s mladšími, např. Josef Machar a Josef Kvapil, Zdeněk Nejedlý aj. Pracoval také v redakci časopisu Zvon a v roce 1917 byl jedním z organizátorů a signatářů Manifestu českých spisovatelů, který proklamoval požadavek národní samostatnosti pro český a slovenský národ. 28. října 1918 přečetl Alois Jirásek před Myslbekovým pomníkem sv. Václava na Václavském náměstí listinu, která vyhlašovala československou státní samostatnost. Ač byl v roce 1920 zvolen do senátu za Československou národně demokratickou stranu, žil v ústraní v Hronově a do politiky se nezapojil. Jirásek zemřel tři roky po smrti své ženy. Jeho rakev byla vystavena v Pantheonu Národního muzea a další den se na Václavském náměstí konala mohutná panychida. Průvod aut, který vezl Jiráskovu urnu z pražského krematoria na padolský hřbitov v Hronově, byl pozdravován a uctíván mnoha lidmi ve všech místech, kterými projížděl.
Jiráskova rodina
Manželka Marie Podhajská (1859 - 1927), svatba 1879.
Děti: manželé Jiráskovi měli šest dcer - Boženu, Mařenku (zemřela čtyřletá 1885), Ludmilu, Miloslavu, Zdeňku a Magdalenu. Poslední byla dvojčetem s jediným chlapcem Jaromírem. Vnukem Aloise Jiráska je doc. Václav Jirásek, významný gastroenterolog.
Jirásek a Praha
Na gymnáziu v Žitné ulici v Novém Městě působil v letech 1888 - 1909.
Bydlel v Hálkově ulici 6 na Novém Městě.
Bydlel v Rumunské ulici 8 na Vinohradech.
V Reslově ul. 1 na Novém Městě bydlel od roku 1909 až do své smrti.
Bylo po něm pojmenováno Jiráskovo náměstí v sousedství jeho posledního bydliště a nedaleký Jiráskův most; na náměstí stojí Jiráskova socha od Karla Pokorného.
Dílo
Jeho literární dílo je neobvykle obsáhlé. Zprvu psal vlastenecké verše, ale brzy přesedlal na prózu, často z venkovského prostředí. Své práce tiskl zprvu také v časopisech Světozor, Lumír, Osvěta, Květy, Zlatá Praha a Zvon. Psal drobnější novely s různými historickými, romantickými, idylickými i psychologickými náměty i monumentální skladby, odrážející nejvýznamnější historické epochy našeho národa. Jirásek byl i významným dramatikem. Některé z jeho her i románů byly zfilmovány.
Z období husitství:
V cizích službách (1883, osudy potomků husitů za Vladislava Jagelonského)
Mezi proudy (románová trilogie: Dvojí dvůr, 1887, Syn ohnivcův, 1888 a Do tří hlasů, 1890; obraz společnosti, z níž vyrůstá husitské hnutí, postava Václava IV., arcibiskupa Jana z Jenštejna, Jana Husa a Jana Žižky)
Maryla (1887)
Proti všem (1893, román z období vrcholné fáze husitství s bitvou na Vítkově)
Bratrstvo (románová trilogie: Bitva u Lučence, 1899, Mária, 1904 a Žebráci, 1908; období doznívajícího husitství a osudy "bratříků", zbytků poražených táborských vojsk na Slovensku)
Husitský král (1919; poslední román o osudech a vládě Jiřího z Poděbrad zůstal nedokončen.)
Z období protireformace, doba pobělohorská:
Skaláci (1875, jeho první významnější dílo, v němž vylíčil lidovou vzpouru na Náchodsku proti cizím pánům Piccolominiům.)
Sousedé (1882, problematika pobělohorské emigrace)
Psohlavci (1884, román o statečném zápasu Chodů o udržení zděděných práv a tragickém osudu Jana Sladkého - Koziny)
Skály (1886, román o revolučním knězi Ulickém, který chce roznítit lidovou vzpouru proti feudálním pánům, je však popraven)
Zahořanský hon (1888, povídka se odehrává na zámku Jemčina, který je zde zván Zahořanský)
Temno (1913, román z období vlády jezuitů ve 20. letech 18. st.)
Z období národního obrození
Na dvoře vévodském (1877, konec 18. st. na náchodském zámku a snahy vlastenců o zrušení roboty)
Filosofská historie (1878, humorný studentský příběh z Litomyšle na pozadí bojů z pražských barikád roku 1848)
Ráj světa (1880, prostředí Vídně po skončení napoleonských válek)
Poklad (1881, první buditelské snahy ve východních Čechách na hradě Potštejně)
F. L. Věk (1888, pětidílný román líčí příběh lidového buditele Věka, inspirovaného postavou skutečného dobrušského kupce Františka Heka. Zachycuje počátky a rozvoj našeho obrození v Dobrušce i v Praze)
U Rytířů a Na staré poště jsou dvě povídky z obrozenské Litomyšle, které vydal spolu s Filosofskou historií pod názvem Maloměstské historie (1890)
U nás (čtyřdílná kronika: Úhor, 1896, Novina 1898, Osetek, 1902 a Zeměžluč, 1903; zde autor zobrazil obrození v náchodského kraji)
Pro mládež:
Z Čech až na konec světa (1888, na základě cestopisu pana Šaška z Bířkova líčí pouť českého poselstva Jiřího z Poděbrad do západoevropských zemí)
Staré pověsti české (1894; převyprávěné pověsti z kroniky Kosmovy, Dalimilovy aj. s vlasteneckým nábojem)
Prózy ze své současnosti psal Jirásek jen okrajově:
Druhý květ, Na ostrově, Petr Kmínek, Z malých cest
Memoáry:
Z mých pamětí (pohled na vlastní životní epochu)
Dramata:
Vojnarka (1890, první hra byla z venkovského prostředí)
Kolébka (1891)
Otec (1894)
Emigrant (1898)
Jan Žižka (1903)
Lucerna (1905, neoblíbenější a stále hraná)
Samota (1908)
Pan Johannes (1909)
Jan Hus (1911)
Jan Roháč (1918)
Magdaléna Dobromila Rettigová (působení v Litomyšli)
Filmové adaptace
Lucerna, 1925, 1938
Filosofská historie, 1937
Psohlavci, 1931
Vojnarka, 1936
Jan Roháč z Dubé, 1947
Temno, 1950
Psohlavci, 1955
Proti všem, 1956
Ztracenci, 1956
Magdalena Dobromila Rettigová, 1964
F. L. Věk (TV), 1971
-
Date:Jan 15 2014, 10:51 AM
Subject:
RE: A Right Royal Do!
Show full header
Dear All
Thank you your Majesty and loyal subjects. This speedy correspondence has saved me a lot of palava etc so I shall just say my snaps are up on flickr now at www.flickr.com/photos/pitzys_pyx/.
I should like to say that we missed TWF all day (yes we did) but cold 90s humour might here say "but I couldn't" just for a snigger. I should also like to say thank you to:
Maryla for her Sandy Smith Mud Pies
Liz M for her wonderful shortcake biscuits (the choc chip ones were particularly good :))
Malcolm X for his fruit and vanilla buns, they were very very tasty.
Whoever brought the Jaffa Cakes
To you all for your laughs and banter.
Dave Lowe for his folk and Beetles songs.
For those who wondered why I had stopped by the road side on my way home see the first snap.
Cheers
JP
Now this is what makes Tuesdays such fun and keeps me nearly sane – you should see me when I’m really balmy! Very many apologies for the lack of cake – I will try hardy next time (depending on the day and the venue!).
Thanks for all the grovelling and the wonderful singing. Could you just shorten my name to She as long as I promise not to do an “Ursula Undress” and wear a chamois leather. Thanks also for the decent weather, not that it was cold where I was standing!
I can report that I was at the Rufus Centre this afternoon and there was JB, Audrey and their lovely daughter. JB allowed me to feel his new pulse and I can recommend it as a strange experience and I think he’s got a battery somewhere that gives electric twitches.
Bon voyage to the Breeds who will be sadly missed for a while. See the rest of you somewhere in the wilds of Bedfordshire and hopefully next Tuesday.
Thanks Mr. Kippling – your writing talents are beyond compare and your cakes are pretty wonderful too. Tally Ho! She
From: Steve Squire [mailto:Steve.Squire@greensandtrust.org]
Sent: 14 January 2014 21:36
To: Malcolm Willis; Tim Spencer; bazbreed@hotmail.com; 'Colin Atkins'; 'Dave Clarke'; 'David Moffatt'; 'James Miller'; 'Jane Breed'; 'John Buxton'; 'John Pitts'; 'Kelvin Horton'; 'Malcolm Willis'; 'Marie Mead'; 'Maryla Carter'; 'Peter Stafferton'; 'Roger Christopher'; 'Ros Blevins'; 'Steve Jones'; Sue Raven; 'Tim Chamen'; wendy.copper@virginmedia.com
Cc: She who must be obeyed
Subject: RE: A Right Royal Do!
Good to see you now have an official email Sue .
Well done Malcolm for making me laugh , very good thank you and to Jock with hot bum in fire.
And thank you all too for working so hard with or without Royal Cake!
Regards
Steve
From: Malcolm Willis [malcolmJwillis@btinternet.com]
Sent: 14 January 2014 21:13
To: Tim Spencer; bazbreed@hotmail.com; 'Colin Atkins'; 'Dave Clarke'; 'David Moffatt'; 'James Miller'; 'Jane Breed'; 'John Buxton'; 'John Pitts'; 'Kelvin Horton'; 'Malcolm Willis'; 'Marie Mead'; 'Maryla Carter'; 'Peter Stafferton'; 'Roger Christopher'; 'Ros Blevins'; 'Steve Jones'; Steve Squire; Sue Raven; 'Tim Chamen'; wendy.copper@virginmedia.com
Cc: She who must be obeyed
Subject: A Right Royal Do!
The stately limousine sailed into sight like a swan upon an enchanted lake. The blue eye that is heaven became bedazzled by the occasion, even the golden beams of universal eternity dipped in homage. The line of voles, once ordinary looking, became unworthy in the instant. The conveyance glided to a halt. The door opened. Hearts that only seconds ago had been pounding chests for freedom were now in suspended animation and inexplicably in mouths agog in anticipation. And then there she was. Serenely climbing down the stepladders (which had been thoughtfully placed out of view of the cameras), she emerged onto the immediately hallowed turf of SSNR [By Appointment to Her Right Royaltiness the Lady Youthfulness].
The appointed Dave stepped forward and humbled himself. An unfortunate occurrence given the magnitude of the occasion. The reserve Dave stepped into the breach. Another unfortunate occurrence! Finally the ‘if all else fails’ Dave came to the rescue.
Bowing so low it made his eyes water he addressed her Supreme Being: “Your Majestyness, if I may be so humbly bold as to..”
Her ladyship interrupted as only one of noble birth can: “Are you a Dimbleby Dave?”
‘If all else fails’ Dave: “Err no?”
Her Exquisiteness: “Then go away.” The nobility of the extended hand flutter in Dave’s direction and immediately he was dispatched as like a game bird on the 1st September.
Her Exquisite Ladyshipness: “My husband and I..” A half turn to the limo revealed a slight glitch. “Oh bother, I must have left him somewhere again. Never mind, I shall continue. Myself and I remember only too vividly the diem horribilis that was last week. But we must move on.”
So saying Her Supremeliness moved on proffering dainty dexterous digits for the gathered ensemble to pucker up their trembling lips to.
Her Regality: “Oh I say what an obnoxious hound.”
Several male voles looked even further ashamed and took several steps back towards oblivion.
Her Lady Regal Exquisiteness: “I was referring to the dog.”
The males voles teetered on the edge of the abyss that is ordinariness. One brave soul remarked: “That is Jock, a rescued dog, he was found in a large, handbag, with handles. He was probably brought up in it.”
Her Lady Ladyness:“ I must confess that I feel somewhat bewildered by what you have just told me. To be born, or at any rate bred in a handbag, whether it have handles or not, seems to me to display a contempt for the ordinary decencies of family life which reminds one of the worst excesses of the French revolution, and I presume you know what that unfortunate movement led to?
The voles shook their heads, a few too vigorously causing them to fall off!
Brave Soul: “ Err yessum your womanliness. We believe he lost his parents and so we’ve adopted him like.”
Her Lady Ladyshipness: “To lose one parent, my good man, may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness.”
Little old lady with straw sticking out from under one arm (One Arm!!!!): He’s only being truthful you’re Omnipotence. He’s very earnest so he is and that’s what makes him so highly regarded by us all. ” Having said all this the little old lady retired to lie down until lunchtime.
Lady Youthfulness: “Well I suppose that’s the importance of being earnest.”
[I bet that’s made Oscar wild!]
Little old lady with straw sticking out from under one arm (One Arm!!!!): “Who’s Oscar?”
So many congratulation to Lady Sue on yet another birthday without a cake big enough to hold all the candles.
No doubt Mr Pitts will shortly be circulating a stunning array of pics so all who weren’t there today will see what the rest of us were up to. Basically following the Squire around, picking up loads of cut reeds (or in a little old lady’s case an odd bunch here and there!); carting them off to be burnt; telling the Squire not to go in the boggy bit; pulling the Squire out of the boggy bit!; showing the Squire were to cut next; sending out explorers to find where the Squire went!; telling the Squire it’s time to stop cutting; retelling the Squire it’s time to stop cutting; telling the local warden to stop telling the Squire to keep cutting!; getting bored of feeding the fire while the mound of cut reeds keeps growing; setting fire to the mound of cut reeds and blaming it on the person furthest away (Colin); eating muffins; eating biscuits (thanks Lillybeth); eating chocolate cake off the ground (thanks Maryla!); eating Jaffa cakes; moaning that there is no pudding!; moaning that Her Ladyship didn’t bring a birthday cake! and generally having fun.
Thanks to everyone who left early and didn’t stay to watch Jock walk across the ash (several times), try to make a ‘nest’ in the hot ash! (he dashed out pretty quick) and finally lie down in the ash!!!
Malcolm.
GST day at Flitton Moor removing Himalayan Balsam 18/7/2017 TL0536
Subject: Next Tuesday's Task
Hi All,
I hope you’ve all stopped itching from the nettle stings on Tuesday!
Next Week’s task will be balsam pulling downstream from Flitton Moor and will be led by Andrew (his last day). The site is accessible from Flitton Moor, so meet at the barn at Flitton Moor at 10am (map attached).
The good news is that there are nowhere near as many nettles as at Sandy Smith but there is plenty of balsam and it’s along steep-sided river/ditch banks and the only way to deal with it will be to get in! Fortunately, the water doesn’t look too deep!
Andrew will bring waders to the task but it might be a good idea if everyone could bring wellies – there might be some areas where wellies might be better than cumbersome waders.
There will also be some brush-cutting.
Regards,
Tim
Hello balsam pullers
A thank you from us to whoever removed the doggy doo doo bag on our behalf. We lost track of it when the bags were moved downstream and then forgot to look for it as we left. It wasn't there when Baz went back for it this evening so we must presume a kindly soul disposed of it on our behalf.
The list of emails above is a bit thin - people certainly on task but we don't have emails for them all, e.g. Barbara & Derek. Please forward to anyone you see is missing from our list.
See you soon
Jane & Baz (irresponsible dog minders)
Hi Jane & Baz & fellow Voles
Lola's bag was there when I came back to get my water/tea.
Anyway what a day, even though the gang finished earlier than usual it was just as well. It was boiling hot and very sticky. You were all a bit smelly too but you were magnificent in victory. I shall not forget Jim's giant leap and wrestle with several big stands of HB across a ditch filled mainly with un-fathomed amounts of ooze covered by a layer of Equisetum (Horsetail) or hearing about Jim's vanishing into another pool where they had to call the RNLI to drag him ashore. Or the happy look on Merv's face relating the joy of submerging into the same primordiall ooze or Dave & others who gallantly waded from Flitton Bridge toend of the track. Then there was Maryla, determined to get her full wack of HB in the 1&1/2 hours available to he, roped on a very steep bank grabbing each plant with a wicked glee, take that you naughty naughty HB you. Well you get my drift, the Voles were down and dirty but unbowed.
A bit of the atmosphere in my snaps at www.flickr.com/photos/pitzys_pyx/
Sadly we had to say farewell to Andrew who has moved on to pastures drier than Flitton Moor.
Take care & see you next week?
JP (Pitzy)
Date:Jan 15 2014, 10:51 AM
Subject:
RE: A Right Royal Do!
Show full header
Dear All
Thank you your Majesty and loyal subjects. This speedy correspondence has saved me a lot of palava etc so I shall just say my snaps are up on flickr now at www.flickr.com/photos/pitzys_pyx/.
I should like to say that we missed TWF all day (yes we did) but cold 90s humour might here say "but I couldn't" just for a snigger. I should also like to say thank you to:
Maryla for her Sandy Smith Mud Pies
Liz M for her wonderful shortcake biscuits (the choc chip ones were particularly good :))
Malcolm X for his fruit and vanilla buns, they were very very tasty.
Whoever brought the Jaffa Cakes
To you all for your laughs and banter.
Dave Lowe for his folk and Beetles songs.
For those who wondered why I had stopped by the road side on my way home see the first snap.
Cheers
JP
Now this is what makes Tuesdays such fun and keeps me nearly sane – you should see me when I’m really balmy! Very many apologies for the lack of cake – I will try hardy next time (depending on the day and the venue!).
Thanks for all the grovelling and the wonderful singing. Could you just shorten my name to She as long as I promise not to do an “Ursula Undress” and wear a chamois leather. Thanks also for the decent weather, not that it was cold where I was standing!
I can report that I was at the Rufus Centre this afternoon and there was JB, Audrey and their lovely daughter. JB allowed me to feel his new pulse and I can recommend it as a strange experience and I think he’s got a battery somewhere that gives electric twitches.
Bon voyage to the Breeds who will be sadly missed for a while. See the rest of you somewhere in the wilds of Bedfordshire and hopefully next Tuesday.
Thanks Mr. Kippling – your writing talents are beyond compare and your cakes are pretty wonderful too. Tally Ho! She
From: Steve Squire [mailto:Steve.Squire@greensandtrust.org]
Sent: 14 January 2014 21:36
To: Malcolm Willis; Tim Spencer; bazbreed@hotmail.com; 'Colin Atkins'; 'Dave Clarke'; 'David Moffatt'; 'James Miller'; 'Jane Breed'; 'John Buxton'; 'John Pitts'; 'Kelvin Horton'; 'Malcolm Willis'; 'Marie Mead'; 'Maryla Carter'; 'Peter Stafferton'; 'Roger Christopher'; 'Ros Blevins'; 'Steve Jones'; Sue Raven; 'Tim Chamen'; wendy.copper@virginmedia.com
Cc: She who must be obeyed
Subject: RE: A Right Royal Do!
Good to see you now have an official email Sue .
Well done Malcolm for making me laugh , very good thank you and to Jock with hot bum in fire.
And thank you all too for working so hard with or without Royal Cake!
Regards
Steve
From: Malcolm Willis [malcolmJwillis@btinternet.com]
Sent: 14 January 2014 21:13
To: Tim Spencer; bazbreed@hotmail.com; 'Colin Atkins'; 'Dave Clarke'; 'David Moffatt'; 'James Miller'; 'Jane Breed'; 'John Buxton'; 'John Pitts'; 'Kelvin Horton'; 'Malcolm Willis'; 'Marie Mead'; 'Maryla Carter'; 'Peter Stafferton'; 'Roger Christopher'; 'Ros Blevins'; 'Steve Jones'; Steve Squire; Sue Raven; 'Tim Chamen'; wendy.copper@virginmedia.com
Cc: She who must be obeyed
Subject: A Right Royal Do!
The stately limousine sailed into sight like a swan upon an enchanted lake. The blue eye that is heaven became bedazzled by the occasion, even the golden beams of universal eternity dipped in homage. The line of voles, once ordinary looking, became unworthy in the instant. The conveyance glided to a halt. The door opened. Hearts that only seconds ago had been pounding chests for freedom were now in suspended animation and inexplicably in mouths agog in anticipation. And then there she was. Serenely climbing down the stepladders (which had been thoughtfully placed out of view of the cameras), she emerged onto the immediately hallowed turf of SSNR [By Appointment to Her Right Royaltiness the Lady Youthfulness].
The appointed Dave stepped forward and humbled himself. An unfortunate occurrence given the magnitude of the occasion. The reserve Dave stepped into the breach. Another unfortunate occurrence! Finally the ‘if all else fails’ Dave came to the rescue.
Bowing so low it made his eyes water he addressed her Supreme Being: “Your Majestyness, if I may be so humbly bold as to..”
Her ladyship interrupted as only one of noble birth can: “Are you a Dimbleby Dave?”
‘If all else fails’ Dave: “Err no?”
Her Exquisiteness: “Then go away.” The nobility of the extended hand flutter in Dave’s direction and immediately he was dispatched as like a game bird on the 1st September.
Her Exquisite Ladyshipness: “My husband and I..” A half turn to the limo revealed a slight glitch. “Oh bother, I must have left him somewhere again. Never mind, I shall continue. Myself and I remember only too vividly the diem horribilis that was last week. But we must move on.”
So saying Her Supremeliness moved on proffering dainty dexterous digits for the gathered ensemble to pucker up their trembling lips to.
Her Regality: “Oh I say what an obnoxious hound.”
Several male voles looked even further ashamed and took several steps back towards oblivion.
Her Lady Regal Exquisiteness: “I was referring to the dog.”
The males voles teetered on the edge of the abyss that is ordinariness. One brave soul remarked: “That is Jock, a rescued dog, he was found in a large, handbag, with handles. He was probably brought up in it.”
Her Lady Ladyness:“ I must confess that I feel somewhat bewildered by what you have just told me. To be born, or at any rate bred in a handbag, whether it have handles or not, seems to me to display a contempt for the ordinary decencies of family life which reminds one of the worst excesses of the French revolution, and I presume you know what that unfortunate movement led to?
The voles shook their heads, a few too vigorously causing them to fall off!
Brave Soul: “ Err yessum your womanliness. We believe he lost his parents and so we’ve adopted him like.”
Her Lady Ladyshipness: “To lose one parent, my good man, may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness.”
Little old lady with straw sticking out from under one arm (One Arm!!!!): He’s only being truthful you’re Omnipotence. He’s very earnest so he is and that’s what makes him so highly regarded by us all. ” Having said all this the little old lady retired to lie down until lunchtime.
Lady Youthfulness: “Well I suppose that’s the importance of being earnest.”
[I bet that’s made Oscar wild!]
Little old lady with straw sticking out from under one arm (One Arm!!!!): “Who’s Oscar?”
So many congratulation to Lady Sue on yet another birthday without a cake big enough to hold all the candles.
No doubt Mr Pitts will shortly be circulating a stunning array of pics so all who weren’t there today will see what the rest of us were up to. Basically following the Squire around, picking up loads of cut reeds (or in a little old lady’s case an odd bunch here and there!); carting them off to be burnt; telling the Squire not to go in the boggy bit; pulling the Squire out of the boggy bit!; showing the Squire were to cut next; sending out explorers to find where the Squire went!; telling the Squire it’s time to stop cutting; retelling the Squire it’s time to stop cutting; telling the local warden to stop telling the Squire to keep cutting!; getting bored of feeding the fire while the mound of cut reeds keeps growing; setting fire to the mound of cut reeds and blaming it on the person furthest away (Colin); eating muffins; eating biscuits (thanks Lillybeth); eating chocolate cake off the ground (thanks Maryla!); eating Jaffa cakes; moaning that there is no pudding!; moaning that Her Ladyship didn’t bring a birthday cake! and generally having fun.
Thanks to everyone who left early and didn’t stay to watch Jock walk across the ash (several times), try to make a ‘nest’ in the hot ash! (he dashed out pretty quick) and finally lie down in the ash!!!
Malcolm.
Date:Jan 15 2014, 10:51 AM
Subject:
RE: A Right Royal Do!
Show full header
Dear All
Thank you your Majesty and loyal subjects. This speedy correspondence has saved me a lot of palava etc so I shall just say my snaps are up on flickr now at www.flickr.com/photos/pitzys_pyx/.
I should like to say that we missed TWF all day (yes we did) but cold 90s humour might here say "but I couldn't" just for a snigger. I should also like to say thank you to:
Maryla for her Sandy Smith Mud Pies
Liz M for her wonderful shortcake biscuits (the choc chip ones were particularly good :))
Malcolm X for his fruit and vanilla buns, they were very very tasty.
Whoever brought the Jaffa Cakes
To you all for your laughs and banter.
Dave Lowe for his folk and Beetles songs.
For those who wondered why I had stopped by the road side on my way home see the first snap.
Cheers
JP
Now this is what makes Tuesdays such fun and keeps me nearly sane – you should see me when I’m really balmy! Very many apologies for the lack of cake – I will try hardy next time (depending on the day and the venue!).
Thanks for all the grovelling and the wonderful singing. Could you just shorten my name to She as long as I promise not to do an “Ursula Undress” and wear a chamois leather. Thanks also for the decent weather, not that it was cold where I was standing!
I can report that I was at the Rufus Centre this afternoon and there was JB, Audrey and their lovely daughter. JB allowed me to feel his new pulse and I can recommend it as a strange experience and I think he’s got a battery somewhere that gives electric twitches.
Bon voyage to the Breeds who will be sadly missed for a while. See the rest of you somewhere in the wilds of Bedfordshire and hopefully next Tuesday.
Thanks Mr. Kippling – your writing talents are beyond compare and your cakes are pretty wonderful too. Tally Ho! She
From: Steve Squire [mailto:Steve.Squire@greensandtrust.org]
Sent: 14 January 2014 21:36
To: Malcolm Willis; Tim Spencer; bazbreed@hotmail.com; 'Colin Atkins'; 'Dave Clarke'; 'David Moffatt'; 'James Miller'; 'Jane Breed'; 'John Buxton'; 'John Pitts'; 'Kelvin Horton'; 'Malcolm Willis'; 'Marie Mead'; 'Maryla Carter'; 'Peter Stafferton'; 'Roger Christopher'; 'Ros Blevins'; 'Steve Jones'; Sue Raven; 'Tim Chamen'; wendy.copper@virginmedia.com
Cc: She who must be obeyed
Subject: RE: A Right Royal Do!
Good to see you now have an official email Sue .
Well done Malcolm for making me laugh , very good thank you and to Jock with hot bum in fire.
And thank you all too for working so hard with or without Royal Cake!
Regards
Steve
From: Malcolm Willis [malcolmJwillis@btinternet.com]
Sent: 14 January 2014 21:13
To: Tim Spencer; bazbreed@hotmail.com; 'Colin Atkins'; 'Dave Clarke'; 'David Moffatt'; 'James Miller'; 'Jane Breed'; 'John Buxton'; 'John Pitts'; 'Kelvin Horton'; 'Malcolm Willis'; 'Marie Mead'; 'Maryla Carter'; 'Peter Stafferton'; 'Roger Christopher'; 'Ros Blevins'; 'Steve Jones'; Steve Squire; Sue Raven; 'Tim Chamen'; wendy.copper@virginmedia.com
Cc: She who must be obeyed
Subject: A Right Royal Do!
The stately limousine sailed into sight like a swan upon an enchanted lake. The blue eye that is heaven became bedazzled by the occasion, even the golden beams of universal eternity dipped in homage. The line of voles, once ordinary looking, became unworthy in the instant. The conveyance glided to a halt. The door opened. Hearts that only seconds ago had been pounding chests for freedom were now in suspended animation and inexplicably in mouths agog in anticipation. And then there she was. Serenely climbing down the stepladders (which had been thoughtfully placed out of view of the cameras), she emerged onto the immediately hallowed turf of SSNR [By Appointment to Her Right Royaltiness the Lady Youthfulness].
The appointed Dave stepped forward and humbled himself. An unfortunate occurrence given the magnitude of the occasion. The reserve Dave stepped into the breach. Another unfortunate occurrence! Finally the ‘if all else fails’ Dave came to the rescue.
Bowing so low it made his eyes water he addressed her Supreme Being: “Your Majestyness, if I may be so humbly bold as to..”
Her ladyship interrupted as only one of noble birth can: “Are you a Dimbleby Dave?”
‘If all else fails’ Dave: “Err no?”
Her Exquisiteness: “Then go away.” The nobility of the extended hand flutter in Dave’s direction and immediately he was dispatched as like a game bird on the 1st September.
Her Exquisite Ladyshipness: “My husband and I..” A half turn to the limo revealed a slight glitch. “Oh bother, I must have left him somewhere again. Never mind, I shall continue. Myself and I remember only too vividly the diem horribilis that was last week. But we must move on.”
So saying Her Supremeliness moved on proffering dainty dexterous digits for the gathered ensemble to pucker up their trembling lips to.
Her Regality: “Oh I say what an obnoxious hound.”
Several male voles looked even further ashamed and took several steps back towards oblivion.
Her Lady Regal Exquisiteness: “I was referring to the dog.”
The males voles teetered on the edge of the abyss that is ordinariness. One brave soul remarked: “That is Jock, a rescued dog, he was found in a large, handbag, with handles. He was probably brought up in it.”
Her Lady Ladyness:“ I must confess that I feel somewhat bewildered by what you have just told me. To be born, or at any rate bred in a handbag, whether it have handles or not, seems to me to display a contempt for the ordinary decencies of family life which reminds one of the worst excesses of the French revolution, and I presume you know what that unfortunate movement led to?
The voles shook their heads, a few too vigorously causing them to fall off!
Brave Soul: “ Err yessum your womanliness. We believe he lost his parents and so we’ve adopted him like.”
Her Lady Ladyshipness: “To lose one parent, my good man, may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness.”
Little old lady with straw sticking out from under one arm (One Arm!!!!): He’s only being truthful you’re Omnipotence. He’s very earnest so he is and that’s what makes him so highly regarded by us all. ” Having said all this the little old lady retired to lie down until lunchtime.
Lady Youthfulness: “Well I suppose that’s the importance of being earnest.”
[I bet that’s made Oscar wild!]
Little old lady with straw sticking out from under one arm (One Arm!!!!): “Who’s Oscar?”
So many congratulation to Lady Sue on yet another birthday without a cake big enough to hold all the candles.
No doubt Mr Pitts will shortly be circulating a stunning array of pics so all who weren’t there today will see what the rest of us were up to. Basically following the Squire around, picking up loads of cut reeds (or in a little old lady’s case an odd bunch here and there!); carting them off to be burnt; telling the Squire not to go in the boggy bit; pulling the Squire out of the boggy bit!; showing the Squire were to cut next; sending out explorers to find where the Squire went!; telling the Squire it’s time to stop cutting; retelling the Squire it’s time to stop cutting; telling the local warden to stop telling the Squire to keep cutting!; getting bored of feeding the fire while the mound of cut reeds keeps growing; setting fire to the mound of cut reeds and blaming it on the person furthest away (Colin); eating muffins; eating biscuits (thanks Lillybeth); eating chocolate cake off the ground (thanks Maryla!); eating Jaffa cakes; moaning that there is no pudding!; moaning that Her Ladyship didn’t bring a birthday cake! and generally having fun.
Thanks to everyone who left early and didn’t stay to watch Jock walk across the ash (several times), try to make a ‘nest’ in the hot ash! (he dashed out pretty quick) and finally lie down in the ash!!!
Malcolm.
Date:Jan 15 2014, 10:51 AM
Subject:
RE: A Right Royal Do!
Show full header
Dear All
Thank you your Majesty and loyal subjects. This speedy correspondence has saved me a lot of palava etc so I shall just say my snaps are up on flickr now at www.flickr.com/photos/pitzys_pyx/.
I should like to say that we missed TWF all day (yes we did) but cold 90s humour might here say "but I couldn't" just for a snigger. I should also like to say thank you to:
Maryla for her Sandy Smith Mud Pies
Liz M for her wonderful shortcake biscuits (the choc chip ones were particularly good :))
Malcolm X for his fruit and vanilla buns, they were very very tasty.
Whoever brought the Jaffa Cakes
To you all for your laughs and banter.
Dave Lowe for his folk and Beetles songs.
For those who wondered why I had stopped by the road side on my way home see the first snap.
Cheers
JP
Now this is what makes Tuesdays such fun and keeps me nearly sane – you should see me when I’m really balmy! Very many apologies for the lack of cake – I will try hardy next time (depending on the day and the venue!).
Thanks for all the grovelling and the wonderful singing. Could you just shorten my name to She as long as I promise not to do an “Ursula Undress” and wear a chamois leather. Thanks also for the decent weather, not that it was cold where I was standing!
I can report that I was at the Rufus Centre this afternoon and there was JB, Audrey and their lovely daughter. JB allowed me to feel his new pulse and I can recommend it as a strange experience and I think he’s got a battery somewhere that gives electric twitches.
Bon voyage to the Breeds who will be sadly missed for a while. See the rest of you somewhere in the wilds of Bedfordshire and hopefully next Tuesday.
Thanks Mr. Kippling – your writing talents are beyond compare and your cakes are pretty wonderful too. Tally Ho! She
From: Steve Squire [mailto:Steve.Squire@greensandtrust.org]
Sent: 14 January 2014 21:36
To: Malcolm Willis; Tim Spencer; bazbreed@hotmail.com; 'Colin Atkins'; 'Dave Clarke'; 'David Moffatt'; 'James Miller'; 'Jane Breed'; 'John Buxton'; 'John Pitts'; 'Kelvin Horton'; 'Malcolm Willis'; 'Marie Mead'; 'Maryla Carter'; 'Peter Stafferton'; 'Roger Christopher'; 'Ros Blevins'; 'Steve Jones'; Sue Raven; 'Tim Chamen'; wendy.copper@virginmedia.com
Cc: She who must be obeyed
Subject: RE: A Right Royal Do!
Good to see you now have an official email Sue .
Well done Malcolm for making me laugh , very good thank you and to Jock with hot bum in fire.
And thank you all too for working so hard with or without Royal Cake!
Regards
Steve
From: Malcolm Willis [malcolmJwillis@btinternet.com]
Sent: 14 January 2014 21:13
To: Tim Spencer; bazbreed@hotmail.com; 'Colin Atkins'; 'Dave Clarke'; 'David Moffatt'; 'James Miller'; 'Jane Breed'; 'John Buxton'; 'John Pitts'; 'Kelvin Horton'; 'Malcolm Willis'; 'Marie Mead'; 'Maryla Carter'; 'Peter Stafferton'; 'Roger Christopher'; 'Ros Blevins'; 'Steve Jones'; Steve Squire; Sue Raven; 'Tim Chamen'; wendy.copper@virginmedia.com
Cc: She who must be obeyed
Subject: A Right Royal Do!
The stately limousine sailed into sight like a swan upon an enchanted lake. The blue eye that is heaven became bedazzled by the occasion, even the golden beams of universal eternity dipped in homage. The line of voles, once ordinary looking, became unworthy in the instant. The conveyance glided to a halt. The door opened. Hearts that only seconds ago had been pounding chests for freedom were now in suspended animation and inexplicably in mouths agog in anticipation. And then there she was. Serenely climbing down the stepladders (which had been thoughtfully placed out of view of the cameras), she emerged onto the immediately hallowed turf of SSNR [By Appointment to Her Right Royaltiness the Lady Youthfulness].
The appointed Dave stepped forward and humbled himself. An unfortunate occurrence given the magnitude of the occasion. The reserve Dave stepped into the breach. Another unfortunate occurrence! Finally the ‘if all else fails’ Dave came to the rescue.
Bowing so low it made his eyes water he addressed her Supreme Being: “Your Majestyness, if I may be so humbly bold as to..”
Her ladyship interrupted as only one of noble birth can: “Are you a Dimbleby Dave?”
‘If all else fails’ Dave: “Err no?”
Her Exquisiteness: “Then go away.” The nobility of the extended hand flutter in Dave’s direction and immediately he was dispatched as like a game bird on the 1st September.
Her Exquisite Ladyshipness: “My husband and I..” A half turn to the limo revealed a slight glitch. “Oh bother, I must have left him somewhere again. Never mind, I shall continue. Myself and I remember only too vividly the diem horribilis that was last week. But we must move on.”
So saying Her Supremeliness moved on proffering dainty dexterous digits for the gathered ensemble to pucker up their trembling lips to.
Her Regality: “Oh I say what an obnoxious hound.”
Several male voles looked even further ashamed and took several steps back towards oblivion.
Her Lady Regal Exquisiteness: “I was referring to the dog.”
The males voles teetered on the edge of the abyss that is ordinariness. One brave soul remarked: “That is Jock, a rescued dog, he was found in a large, handbag, with handles. He was probably brought up in it.”
Her Lady Ladyness:“ I must confess that I feel somewhat bewildered by what you have just told me. To be born, or at any rate bred in a handbag, whether it have handles or not, seems to me to display a contempt for the ordinary decencies of family life which reminds one of the worst excesses of the French revolution, and I presume you know what that unfortunate movement led to?
The voles shook their heads, a few too vigorously causing them to fall off!
Brave Soul: “ Err yessum your womanliness. We believe he lost his parents and so we’ve adopted him like.”
Her Lady Ladyshipness: “To lose one parent, my good man, may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness.”
Little old lady with straw sticking out from under one arm (One Arm!!!!): He’s only being truthful you’re Omnipotence. He’s very earnest so he is and that’s what makes him so highly regarded by us all. ” Having said all this the little old lady retired to lie down until lunchtime.
Lady Youthfulness: “Well I suppose that’s the importance of being earnest.”
[I bet that’s made Oscar wild!]
Little old lady with straw sticking out from under one arm (One Arm!!!!): “Who’s Oscar?”
So many congratulation to Lady Sue on yet another birthday without a cake big enough to hold all the candles.
No doubt Mr Pitts will shortly be circulating a stunning array of pics so all who weren’t there today will see what the rest of us were up to. Basically following the Squire around, picking up loads of cut reeds (or in a little old lady’s case an odd bunch here and there!); carting them off to be burnt; telling the Squire not to go in the boggy bit; pulling the Squire out of the boggy bit!; showing the Squire were to cut next; sending out explorers to find where the Squire went!; telling the Squire it’s time to stop cutting; retelling the Squire it’s time to stop cutting; telling the local warden to stop telling the Squire to keep cutting!; getting bored of feeding the fire while the mound of cut reeds keeps growing; setting fire to the mound of cut reeds and blaming it on the person furthest away (Colin); eating muffins; eating biscuits (thanks Lillybeth); eating chocolate cake off the ground (thanks Maryla!); eating Jaffa cakes; moaning that there is no pudding!; moaning that Her Ladyship didn’t bring a birthday cake! and generally having fun.
Thanks to everyone who left early and didn’t stay to watch Jock walk across the ash (several times), try to make a ‘nest’ in the hot ash! (he dashed out pretty quick) and finally lie down in the ash!!!
Malcolm.
GST Voles day at Sandy Smith NR 7/3/2017
Mr T.: (rummaging in the back of the land rover).
Okay we haven't had a task in the Wet Fen before so before we start I just need to explain a few things. Firstly as you can see it's very wet here at the entrance so I will not be taking the land rover in. We will have to carry everything in from here. I want four of you strimming the few sparce areas of rushes to the right hand side and one of you mowing a few clearings on the left hand side. The rest of you can help me clear away various metal rubbish in the copse area and then start raking and forking up what's been cut. There are some drag bags here for you. Plus I shall be cutting down a small birch tree which can be cut up and burnt. So I'll need you to take......
Mr. T. turns around to see he is by himself, the voles having walked off into the distance, (well this is SSNR and we always walk off into the distance).
A little later in camp.
Mr. T.: Are you okay to strim *****? (name removed for legal reasons). Just make sure you don't break anything. Are you okay to use the mower ^^^^? (name removed for same reasons). Just make sure you don't break anything.
Right, I just need to go back and get a few things that you lot 'forgot' to bring over with you.
Mr T. returns.
*****: The strimmer's broke.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get the tools to mend it for you.
Mr. T. returns.
^^^^: The mower's broke.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get the tools to mend it for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Anon.: We haven't got any forks.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get them for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Another Anon.: We need drag bags.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get them for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Yet another Anon.: Must be time for a tea break.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get my bag.
The voles settle down for a drink and a few cakes.
Anon anon anon.: Who's going to tell Mr. T. he's forgotten the donuts?
Sobbing could be heard in the distance.
Some time later on this long, drawn out morning.
Mr. T.: It's no good, the rushes are too damp to burn, we'll have to drag them into the copse and pile them there.
Mr. T. walks away.
^^^^, (don't worry Clarkie, no one will know it's you), immediately strips to the waist, covers his chest in cow dung, (last week's having dried out and beginning to flake off), turns and spits into the northeast wind. Rubbing the spittle off his face he calls out to Logi, the Norse god of fire. "Hey up lad we could do with a bit of help down here." So saying he sets light to a box of fire lighters and throws them into the smouldering embers. Flames immediately rise into the bright blue sky as the fire worshipper dances a merry jig and begins to feed the flames.
And so to lunch.
Mr. T.: No more cutting now we just need to rake up what's been cut and either burn it or pile it in the copse.
Volunteer Warden (no experience necessary): Nah, we can strim loads more, there's plenty of time.
Mr. T.: No, we need to let the fire burn down before we leave tonight.
Volunteer Warden (no experience attained): Nah, we'll have finished in half an hour.
Two hours later.
Mr. T.: Most people have left, how is the fire?
Volunteer Warden (basically no experience full stop): (kicking mud onto the flames) Nearly out, could have cut loads more. Gets dark quickly these nights doesn't it?
Any resemblance to the truth is purely coincidental and has nothing to do with the perpetrator of Myths and Legends in Bedfordshire, (out of print).
Thank you to everyone who came along and dragged their heels, ankles, toes, etc. in the mud. Special thanks to those who kept pulling Wendy out of the deep bits. Nice to see Maryla back with us for a short while (obviously having to build up to it again).
Malcolm
GST Voles day at Sandy Smith NR 7/3/2017
Mr T.: (rummaging in the back of the land rover).
Okay we haven't had a task in the Wet Fen before so before we start I just need to explain a few things. Firstly as you can see it's very wet here at the entrance so I will not be taking the land rover in. We will have to carry everything in from here. I want four of you strimming the few sparce areas of rushes to the right hand side and one of you mowing a few clearings on the left hand side. The rest of you can help me clear away various metal rubbish in the copse area and then start raking and forking up what's been cut. There are some drag bags here for you. Plus I shall be cutting down a small birch tree which can be cut up and burnt. So I'll need you to take......
Mr. T. turns around to see he is by himself, the voles having walked off into the distance, (well this is SSNR and we always walk off into the distance).
A little later in camp.
Mr. T.: Are you okay to strim *****? (name removed for legal reasons). Just make sure you don't break anything. Are you okay to use the mower ^^^^? (name removed for same reasons). Just make sure you don't break anything.
Right, I just need to go back and get a few things that you lot 'forgot' to bring over with you.
Mr T. returns.
*****: The strimmer's broke.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get the tools to mend it for you.
Mr. T. returns.
^^^^: The mower's broke.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get the tools to mend it for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Anon.: We haven't got any forks.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get them for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Another Anon.: We need drag bags.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get them for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Yet another Anon.: Must be time for a tea break.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get my bag.
The voles settle down for a drink and a few cakes.
Anon anon anon.: Who's going to tell Mr. T. he's forgotten the donuts?
Sobbing could be heard in the distance.
Some time later on this long, drawn out morning.
Mr. T.: It's no good, the rushes are too damp to burn, we'll have to drag them into the copse and pile them there.
Mr. T. walks away.
^^^^, (don't worry Clarkie, no one will know it's you), immediately strips to the waist, covers his chest in cow dung, (last week's having dried out and beginning to flake off), turns and spits into the northeast wind. Rubbing the spittle off his face he calls out to Logi, the Norse god of fire. "Hey up lad we could do with a bit of help down here." So saying he sets light to a box of fire lighters and throws them into the smouldering embers. Flames immediately rise into the bright blue sky as the fire worshipper dances a merry jig and begins to feed the flames.
And so to lunch.
Mr. T.: No more cutting now we just need to rake up what's been cut and either burn it or pile it in the copse.
Volunteer Warden (no experience necessary): Nah, we can strim loads more, there's plenty of time.
Mr. T.: No, we need to let the fire burn down before we leave tonight.
Volunteer Warden (no experience attained): Nah, we'll have finished in half an hour.
Two hours later.
Mr. T.: Most people have left, how is the fire?
Volunteer Warden (basically no experience full stop): (kicking mud onto the flames) Nearly out, could have cut loads more. Gets dark quickly these nights doesn't it?
Any resemblance to the truth is purely coincidental and has nothing to do with the perpetrator of Myths and Legends in Bedfordshire, (out of print).
Thank you to everyone who came along and dragged their heels, ankles, toes, etc. in the mud. Special thanks to those who kept pulling Wendy out of the deep bits. Nice to see Maryla back with us for a short while (obviously having to build up to it again).
Malcolm
GST Voles day at Sandy Smith NR 7/3/2017
Mr T.: (rummaging in the back of the land rover).
Okay we haven't had a task in the Wet Fen before so before we start I just need to explain a few things. Firstly as you can see it's very wet here at the entrance so I will not be taking the land rover in. We will have to carry everything in from here. I want four of you strimming the few sparce areas of rushes to the right hand side and one of you mowing a few clearings on the left hand side. The rest of you can help me clear away various metal rubbish in the copse area and then start raking and forking up what's been cut. There are some drag bags here for you. Plus I shall be cutting down a small birch tree which can be cut up and burnt. So I'll need you to take......
Mr. T. turns around to see he is by himself, the voles having walked off into the distance, (well this is SSNR and we always walk off into the distance).
A little later in camp.
Mr. T.: Are you okay to strim *****? (name removed for legal reasons). Just make sure you don't break anything. Are you okay to use the mower ^^^^? (name removed for same reasons). Just make sure you don't break anything.
Right, I just need to go back and get a few things that you lot 'forgot' to bring over with you.
Mr T. returns.
*****: The strimmer's broke.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get the tools to mend it for you.
Mr. T. returns.
^^^^: The mower's broke.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get the tools to mend it for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Anon.: We haven't got any forks.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get them for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Another Anon.: We need drag bags.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get them for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Yet another Anon.: Must be time for a tea break.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get my bag.
The voles settle down for a drink and a few cakes.
Anon anon anon.: Who's going to tell Mr. T. he's forgotten the donuts?
Sobbing could be heard in the distance.
Some time later on this long, drawn out morning.
Mr. T.: It's no good, the rushes are too damp to burn, we'll have to drag them into the copse and pile them there.
Mr. T. walks away.
^^^^, (don't worry Clarkie, no one will know it's you), immediately strips to the waist, covers his chest in cow dung, (last week's having dried out and beginning to flake off), turns and spits into the northeast wind. Rubbing the spittle off his face he calls out to Logi, the Norse god of fire. "Hey up lad we could do with a bit of help down here." So saying he sets light to a box of fire lighters and throws them into the smouldering embers. Flames immediately rise into the bright blue sky as the fire worshipper dances a merry jig and begins to feed the flames.
And so to lunch.
Mr. T.: No more cutting now we just need to rake up what's been cut and either burn it or pile it in the copse.
Volunteer Warden (no experience necessary): Nah, we can strim loads more, there's plenty of time.
Mr. T.: No, we need to let the fire burn down before we leave tonight.
Volunteer Warden (no experience attained): Nah, we'll have finished in half an hour.
Two hours later.
Mr. T.: Most people have left, how is the fire?
Volunteer Warden (basically no experience full stop): (kicking mud onto the flames) Nearly out, could have cut loads more. Gets dark quickly these nights doesn't it?
Any resemblance to the truth is purely coincidental and has nothing to do with the perpetrator of Myths and Legends in Bedfordshire, (out of print).
Thank you to everyone who came along and dragged their heels, ankles, toes, etc. in the mud. Special thanks to those who kept pulling Wendy out of the deep bits. Nice to see Maryla back with us for a short while (obviously having to build up to it again).
Malcolm
Date:Jan 15 2014, 10:51 AM
Subject:
RE: A Right Royal Do!
Show full header
Dear All
Thank you your Majesty and loyal subjects. This speedy correspondence has saved me a lot of palava etc so I shall just say my snaps are up on flickr now at www.flickr.com/photos/pitzys_pyx/.
I should like to say that we missed TWF all day (yes we did) but cold 90s humour might here say "but I couldn't" just for a snigger. I should also like to say thank you to:
Maryla for her Sandy Smith Mud Pies
Liz M for her wonderful shortcake biscuits (the choc chip ones were particularly good :))
Malcolm X for his fruit and vanilla buns, they were very very tasty.
Whoever brought the Jaffa Cakes
To you all for your laughs and banter.
Dave Lowe for his folk and Beetles songs.
For those who wondered why I had stopped by the road side on my way home see the first snap.
Cheers
JP
Now this is what makes Tuesdays such fun and keeps me nearly sane – you should see me when I’m really balmy! Very many apologies for the lack of cake – I will try hardy next time (depending on the day and the venue!).
Thanks for all the grovelling and the wonderful singing. Could you just shorten my name to She as long as I promise not to do an “Ursula Undress” and wear a chamois leather. Thanks also for the decent weather, not that it was cold where I was standing!
I can report that I was at the Rufus Centre this afternoon and there was JB, Audrey and their lovely daughter. JB allowed me to feel his new pulse and I can recommend it as a strange experience and I think he’s got a battery somewhere that gives electric twitches.
Bon voyage to the Breeds who will be sadly missed for a while. See the rest of you somewhere in the wilds of Bedfordshire and hopefully next Tuesday.
Thanks Mr. Kippling – your writing talents are beyond compare and your cakes are pretty wonderful too. Tally Ho! She
From: Steve Squire [mailto:Steve.Squire@greensandtrust.org]
Sent: 14 January 2014 21:36
To: Malcolm Willis; Tim Spencer; bazbreed@hotmail.com; 'Colin Atkins'; 'Dave Clarke'; 'David Moffatt'; 'James Miller'; 'Jane Breed'; 'John Buxton'; 'John Pitts'; 'Kelvin Horton'; 'Malcolm Willis'; 'Marie Mead'; 'Maryla Carter'; 'Peter Stafferton'; 'Roger Christopher'; 'Ros Blevins'; 'Steve Jones'; Sue Raven; 'Tim Chamen'; wendy.copper@virginmedia.com
Cc: She who must be obeyed
Subject: RE: A Right Royal Do!
Good to see you now have an official email Sue .
Well done Malcolm for making me laugh , very good thank you and to Jock with hot bum in fire.
And thank you all too for working so hard with or without Royal Cake!
Regards
Steve
From: Malcolm Willis [malcolmJwillis@btinternet.com]
Sent: 14 January 2014 21:13
To: Tim Spencer; bazbreed@hotmail.com; 'Colin Atkins'; 'Dave Clarke'; 'David Moffatt'; 'James Miller'; 'Jane Breed'; 'John Buxton'; 'John Pitts'; 'Kelvin Horton'; 'Malcolm Willis'; 'Marie Mead'; 'Maryla Carter'; 'Peter Stafferton'; 'Roger Christopher'; 'Ros Blevins'; 'Steve Jones'; Steve Squire; Sue Raven; 'Tim Chamen'; wendy.copper@virginmedia.com
Cc: She who must be obeyed
Subject: A Right Royal Do!
The stately limousine sailed into sight like a swan upon an enchanted lake. The blue eye that is heaven became bedazzled by the occasion, even the golden beams of universal eternity dipped in homage. The line of voles, once ordinary looking, became unworthy in the instant. The conveyance glided to a halt. The door opened. Hearts that only seconds ago had been pounding chests for freedom were now in suspended animation and inexplicably in mouths agog in anticipation. And then there she was. Serenely climbing down the stepladders (which had been thoughtfully placed out of view of the cameras), she emerged onto the immediately hallowed turf of SSNR [By Appointment to Her Right Royaltiness the Lady Youthfulness].
The appointed Dave stepped forward and humbled himself. An unfortunate occurrence given the magnitude of the occasion. The reserve Dave stepped into the breach. Another unfortunate occurrence! Finally the ‘if all else fails’ Dave came to the rescue.
Bowing so low it made his eyes water he addressed her Supreme Being: “Your Majestyness, if I may be so humbly bold as to..”
Her ladyship interrupted as only one of noble birth can: “Are you a Dimbleby Dave?”
‘If all else fails’ Dave: “Err no?”
Her Exquisiteness: “Then go away.” The nobility of the extended hand flutter in Dave’s direction and immediately he was dispatched as like a game bird on the 1st September.
Her Exquisite Ladyshipness: “My husband and I..” A half turn to the limo revealed a slight glitch. “Oh bother, I must have left him somewhere again. Never mind, I shall continue. Myself and I remember only too vividly the diem horribilis that was last week. But we must move on.”
So saying Her Supremeliness moved on proffering dainty dexterous digits for the gathered ensemble to pucker up their trembling lips to.
Her Regality: “Oh I say what an obnoxious hound.”
Several male voles looked even further ashamed and took several steps back towards oblivion.
Her Lady Regal Exquisiteness: “I was referring to the dog.”
The males voles teetered on the edge of the abyss that is ordinariness. One brave soul remarked: “That is Jock, a rescued dog, he was found in a large, handbag, with handles. He was probably brought up in it.”
Her Lady Ladyness:“ I must confess that I feel somewhat bewildered by what you have just told me. To be born, or at any rate bred in a handbag, whether it have handles or not, seems to me to display a contempt for the ordinary decencies of family life which reminds one of the worst excesses of the French revolution, and I presume you know what that unfortunate movement led to?
The voles shook their heads, a few too vigorously causing them to fall off!
Brave Soul: “ Err yessum your womanliness. We believe he lost his parents and so we’ve adopted him like.”
Her Lady Ladyshipness: “To lose one parent, my good man, may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness.”
Little old lady with straw sticking out from under one arm (One Arm!!!!): He’s only being truthful you’re Omnipotence. He’s very earnest so he is and that’s what makes him so highly regarded by us all. ” Having said all this the little old lady retired to lie down until lunchtime.
Lady Youthfulness: “Well I suppose that’s the importance of being earnest.”
[I bet that’s made Oscar wild!]
Little old lady with straw sticking out from under one arm (One Arm!!!!): “Who’s Oscar?”
So many congratulation to Lady Sue on yet another birthday without a cake big enough to hold all the candles.
No doubt Mr Pitts will shortly be circulating a stunning array of pics so all who weren’t there today will see what the rest of us were up to. Basically following the Squire around, picking up loads of cut reeds (or in a little old lady’s case an odd bunch here and there!); carting them off to be burnt; telling the Squire not to go in the boggy bit; pulling the Squire out of the boggy bit!; showing the Squire were to cut next; sending out explorers to find where the Squire went!; telling the Squire it’s time to stop cutting; retelling the Squire it’s time to stop cutting; telling the local warden to stop telling the Squire to keep cutting!; getting bored of feeding the fire while the mound of cut reeds keeps growing; setting fire to the mound of cut reeds and blaming it on the person furthest away (Colin); eating muffins; eating biscuits (thanks Lillybeth); eating chocolate cake off the ground (thanks Maryla!); eating Jaffa cakes; moaning that there is no pudding!; moaning that Her Ladyship didn’t bring a birthday cake! and generally having fun.
Thanks to everyone who left early and didn’t stay to watch Jock walk across the ash (several times), try to make a ‘nest’ in the hot ash! (he dashed out pretty quick) and finally lie down in the ash!!!
Malcolm.
Date:Jan 15 2014, 10:51 AM
Subject:
RE: A Right Royal Do!
Show full header
Dear All
Thank you your Majesty and loyal subjects. This speedy correspondence has saved me a lot of palava etc so I shall just say my snaps are up on flickr now at www.flickr.com/photos/pitzys_pyx/.
I should like to say that we missed TWF all day (yes we did) but cold 90s humour might here say "but I couldn't" just for a snigger. I should also like to say thank you to:
Maryla for her Sandy Smith Mud Pies
Liz M for her wonderful shortcake biscuits (the choc chip ones were particularly good :))
Malcolm X for his fruit and vanilla buns, they were very very tasty.
Whoever brought the Jaffa Cakes
To you all for your laughs and banter.
Dave Lowe for his folk and Beetles songs.
For those who wondered why I had stopped by the road side on my way home see the first snap.
Cheers
JP
Now this is what makes Tuesdays such fun and keeps me nearly sane – you should see me when I’m really balmy! Very many apologies for the lack of cake – I will try hardy next time (depending on the day and the venue!).
Thanks for all the grovelling and the wonderful singing. Could you just shorten my name to She as long as I promise not to do an “Ursula Undress” and wear a chamois leather. Thanks also for the decent weather, not that it was cold where I was standing!
I can report that I was at the Rufus Centre this afternoon and there was JB, Audrey and their lovely daughter. JB allowed me to feel his new pulse and I can recommend it as a strange experience and I think he’s got a battery somewhere that gives electric twitches.
Bon voyage to the Breeds who will be sadly missed for a while. See the rest of you somewhere in the wilds of Bedfordshire and hopefully next Tuesday.
Thanks Mr. Kippling – your writing talents are beyond compare and your cakes are pretty wonderful too. Tally Ho! She
From: Steve Squire [mailto:Steve.Squire@greensandtrust.org]
Sent: 14 January 2014 21:36
To: Malcolm Willis; Tim Spencer; bazbreed@hotmail.com; 'Colin Atkins'; 'Dave Clarke'; 'David Moffatt'; 'James Miller'; 'Jane Breed'; 'John Buxton'; 'John Pitts'; 'Kelvin Horton'; 'Malcolm Willis'; 'Marie Mead'; 'Maryla Carter'; 'Peter Stafferton'; 'Roger Christopher'; 'Ros Blevins'; 'Steve Jones'; Sue Raven; 'Tim Chamen'; wendy.copper@virginmedia.com
Cc: She who must be obeyed
Subject: RE: A Right Royal Do!
Good to see you now have an official email Sue .
Well done Malcolm for making me laugh , very good thank you and to Jock with hot bum in fire.
And thank you all too for working so hard with or without Royal Cake!
Regards
Steve
From: Malcolm Willis [malcolmJwillis@btinternet.com]
Sent: 14 January 2014 21:13
To: Tim Spencer; bazbreed@hotmail.com; 'Colin Atkins'; 'Dave Clarke'; 'David Moffatt'; 'James Miller'; 'Jane Breed'; 'John Buxton'; 'John Pitts'; 'Kelvin Horton'; 'Malcolm Willis'; 'Marie Mead'; 'Maryla Carter'; 'Peter Stafferton'; 'Roger Christopher'; 'Ros Blevins'; 'Steve Jones'; Steve Squire; Sue Raven; 'Tim Chamen'; wendy.copper@virginmedia.com
Cc: She who must be obeyed
Subject: A Right Royal Do!
The stately limousine sailed into sight like a swan upon an enchanted lake. The blue eye that is heaven became bedazzled by the occasion, even the golden beams of universal eternity dipped in homage. The line of voles, once ordinary looking, became unworthy in the instant. The conveyance glided to a halt. The door opened. Hearts that only seconds ago had been pounding chests for freedom were now in suspended animation and inexplicably in mouths agog in anticipation. And then there she was. Serenely climbing down the stepladders (which had been thoughtfully placed out of view of the cameras), she emerged onto the immediately hallowed turf of SSNR [By Appointment to Her Right Royaltiness the Lady Youthfulness].
The appointed Dave stepped forward and humbled himself. An unfortunate occurrence given the magnitude of the occasion. The reserve Dave stepped into the breach. Another unfortunate occurrence! Finally the ‘if all else fails’ Dave came to the rescue.
Bowing so low it made his eyes water he addressed her Supreme Being: “Your Majestyness, if I may be so humbly bold as to..”
Her ladyship interrupted as only one of noble birth can: “Are you a Dimbleby Dave?”
‘If all else fails’ Dave: “Err no?”
Her Exquisiteness: “Then go away.” The nobility of the extended hand flutter in Dave’s direction and immediately he was dispatched as like a game bird on the 1st September.
Her Exquisite Ladyshipness: “My husband and I..” A half turn to the limo revealed a slight glitch. “Oh bother, I must have left him somewhere again. Never mind, I shall continue. Myself and I remember only too vividly the diem horribilis that was last week. But we must move on.”
So saying Her Supremeliness moved on proffering dainty dexterous digits for the gathered ensemble to pucker up their trembling lips to.
Her Regality: “Oh I say what an obnoxious hound.”
Several male voles looked even further ashamed and took several steps back towards oblivion.
Her Lady Regal Exquisiteness: “I was referring to the dog.”
The males voles teetered on the edge of the abyss that is ordinariness. One brave soul remarked: “That is Jock, a rescued dog, he was found in a large, handbag, with handles. He was probably brought up in it.”
Her Lady Ladyness:“ I must confess that I feel somewhat bewildered by what you have just told me. To be born, or at any rate bred in a handbag, whether it have handles or not, seems to me to display a contempt for the ordinary decencies of family life which reminds one of the worst excesses of the French revolution, and I presume you know what that unfortunate movement led to?
The voles shook their heads, a few too vigorously causing them to fall off!
Brave Soul: “ Err yessum your womanliness. We believe he lost his parents and so we’ve adopted him like.”
Her Lady Ladyshipness: “To lose one parent, my good man, may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness.”
Little old lady with straw sticking out from under one arm (One Arm!!!!): He’s only being truthful you’re Omnipotence. He’s very earnest so he is and that’s what makes him so highly regarded by us all. ” Having said all this the little old lady retired to lie down until lunchtime.
Lady Youthfulness: “Well I suppose that’s the importance of being earnest.”
[I bet that’s made Oscar wild!]
Little old lady with straw sticking out from under one arm (One Arm!!!!): “Who’s Oscar?”
So many congratulation to Lady Sue on yet another birthday without a cake big enough to hold all the candles.
No doubt Mr Pitts will shortly be circulating a stunning array of pics so all who weren’t there today will see what the rest of us were up to. Basically following the Squire around, picking up loads of cut reeds (or in a little old lady’s case an odd bunch here and there!); carting them off to be burnt; telling the Squire not to go in the boggy bit; pulling the Squire out of the boggy bit!; showing the Squire were to cut next; sending out explorers to find where the Squire went!; telling the Squire it’s time to stop cutting; retelling the Squire it’s time to stop cutting; telling the local warden to stop telling the Squire to keep cutting!; getting bored of feeding the fire while the mound of cut reeds keeps growing; setting fire to the mound of cut reeds and blaming it on the person furthest away (Colin); eating muffins; eating biscuits (thanks Lillybeth); eating chocolate cake off the ground (thanks Maryla!); eating Jaffa cakes; moaning that there is no pudding!; moaning that Her Ladyship didn’t bring a birthday cake! and generally having fun.
Thanks to everyone who left early and didn’t stay to watch Jock walk across the ash (several times), try to make a ‘nest’ in the hot ash! (he dashed out pretty quick) and finally lie down in the ash!!!
Malcolm.
Hello everyone, here are the official results of yesterday's competitions in no particular order. I'm pleased to say that this year there was no need for any drug tests as all the competitors had already past the Dope Test. However it was unfortunate that The Lady Young had to be barred from this year's events owing to her professional status, having already competed at a Buck Pally event earlier in the year, (Third Reserve for the best use of a squashed parrot).
And so to the results starting off with what has to be the most convincing win of the day:-
Winners of:
The Best Practical Joke of the Day: Raving Ros - imagine getting everyone to eat Spanish chicken feed thinking it was some sort of foreign delicacy!
Balancing a car on a dog's drinking bowl: The Moffatt Man - as he said, he could do it with his eyes closed!
The Obstacle Race: 1st. Colin Atkins (2 faults), 2nd. The Baker (3 faults), 3rd. 'Fireman' Dave (4 faults).
Disqualified for hitting obstacles before he even got onto the course(!!!) - The Squire.
(Special thanks go to Little Pete and Big Jim for making the course easier by removing hundreds of obstacles that were no longer viable).
Best 'Man Boobs': The Pitts. Bad luck to KH who was beaten by a whisker - shouldn't have shaved his chest in readiness for the Annual Ampthill Glossy Chest competition later this month. Disqualified for the third year running - Maryla. Those knees didn't fool anybody.
Sewing Bee: Jane - lovely use of net curtains to make a one woman hammock (although you did appear to get a bit wrapped up in it!).
Quickest exit to the pub: Big Baz (followed closely by Jane - but not so close as to get the first round in).
Best Hot Pot: The Venerable Buxton - never any doubt about the winner of this the most prestigious of awards.
Best Pud: The Lady Buxton - it was some consternation to the judges that shouts of "Rhubarb" were heard when this was announced on the day!
Fattest, scruffiest, greediest, smelliest dog: Jock - no competition. Special mention to his owner for making him the dog that he is!!!
And so without further ado
GST day at Flitton Moor removing Himalayan Balsam 18/7/2017 TL0536
Subject: Next Tuesday's Task
Hi All,
I hope you’ve all stopped itching from the nettle stings on Tuesday!
Next Week’s task will be balsam pulling downstream from Flitton Moor and will be led by Andrew (his last day). The site is accessible from Flitton Moor, so meet at the barn at Flitton Moor at 10am (map attached).
The good news is that there are nowhere near as many nettles as at Sandy Smith but there is plenty of balsam and it’s along steep-sided river/ditch banks and the only way to deal with it will be to get in! Fortunately, the water doesn’t look too deep!
Andrew will bring waders to the task but it might be a good idea if everyone could bring wellies – there might be some areas where wellies might be better than cumbersome waders.
There will also be some brush-cutting.
Regards,
Tim
Hello balsam pullers
A thank you from us to whoever removed the doggy doo doo bag on our behalf. We lost track of it when the bags were moved downstream and then forgot to look for it as we left. It wasn't there when Baz went back for it this evening so we must presume a kindly soul disposed of it on our behalf.
The list of emails above is a bit thin - people certainly on task but we don't have emails for them all, e.g. Barbara & Derek. Please forward to anyone you see is missing from our list.
See you soon
Jane & Baz (irresponsible dog minders)
Hi Jane & Baz & fellow Voles
Lola's bag was there when I came back to get my water/tea.
Anyway what a day, even though the gang finished earlier than usual it was just as well. It was boiling hot and very sticky. You were all a bit smelly too but you were magnificent in victory. I shall not forget Jim's giant leap and wrestle with several big stands of HB across a ditch filled mainly with un-fathomed amounts of ooze covered by a layer of Equisetum (Horsetail) or hearing about Jim's vanishing into another pool where they had to call the RNLI to drag him ashore. Or the happy look on Merv's face relating the joy of submerging into the same primordiall ooze or Dave & others who gallantly waded from Flitton Bridge toend of the track. Then there was Maryla, determined to get her full wack of HB in the 1&1/2 hours available to he, roped on a very steep bank grabbing each plant with a wicked glee, take that you naughty naughty HB you. Well you get my drift, the Voles were down and dirty but unbowed.
A bit of the atmosphere in my snaps at www.flickr.com/photos/pitzys_pyx/
Sadly we had to say farewell to Andrew who has moved on to pastures drier than Flitton Moor.
Take care & see you next week?
JP (Pitzy)
GST Voles day at Sandy Smith NR 7/3/2017
Mr T.: (rummaging in the back of the land rover).
Okay we haven't had a task in the Wet Fen before so before we start I just need to explain a few things. Firstly as you can see it's very wet here at the entrance so I will not be taking the land rover in. We will have to carry everything in from here. I want four of you strimming the few sparce areas of rushes to the right hand side and one of you mowing a few clearings on the left hand side. The rest of you can help me clear away various metal rubbish in the copse area and then start raking and forking up what's been cut. There are some drag bags here for you. Plus I shall be cutting down a small birch tree which can be cut up and burnt. So I'll need you to take......
Mr. T. turns around to see he is by himself, the voles having walked off into the distance, (well this is SSNR and we always walk off into the distance).
A little later in camp.
Mr. T.: Are you okay to strim *****? (name removed for legal reasons). Just make sure you don't break anything. Are you okay to use the mower ^^^^? (name removed for same reasons). Just make sure you don't break anything.
Right, I just need to go back and get a few things that you lot 'forgot' to bring over with you.
Mr T. returns.
*****: The strimmer's broke.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get the tools to mend it for you.
Mr. T. returns.
^^^^: The mower's broke.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get the tools to mend it for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Anon.: We haven't got any forks.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get them for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Another Anon.: We need drag bags.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get them for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Yet another Anon.: Must be time for a tea break.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get my bag.
The voles settle down for a drink and a few cakes.
Anon anon anon.: Who's going to tell Mr. T. he's forgotten the donuts?
Sobbing could be heard in the distance.
Some time later on this long, drawn out morning.
Mr. T.: It's no good, the rushes are too damp to burn, we'll have to drag them into the copse and pile them there.
Mr. T. walks away.
^^^^, (don't worry Clarkie, no one will know it's you), immediately strips to the waist, covers his chest in cow dung, (last week's having dried out and beginning to flake off), turns and spits into the northeast wind. Rubbing the spittle off his face he calls out to Logi, the Norse god of fire. "Hey up lad we could do with a bit of help down here." So saying he sets light to a box of fire lighters and throws them into the smouldering embers. Flames immediately rise into the bright blue sky as the fire worshipper dances a merry jig and begins to feed the flames.
And so to lunch.
Mr. T.: No more cutting now we just need to rake up what's been cut and either burn it or pile it in the copse.
Volunteer Warden (no experience necessary): Nah, we can strim loads more, there's plenty of time.
Mr. T.: No, we need to let the fire burn down before we leave tonight.
Volunteer Warden (no experience attained): Nah, we'll have finished in half an hour.
Two hours later.
Mr. T.: Most people have left, how is the fire?
Volunteer Warden (basically no experience full stop): (kicking mud onto the flames) Nearly out, could have cut loads more. Gets dark quickly these nights doesn't it?
Any resemblance to the truth is purely coincidental and has nothing to do with the perpetrator of Myths and Legends in Bedfordshire, (out of print).
Thank you to everyone who came along and dragged their heels, ankles, toes, etc. in the mud. Special thanks to those who kept pulling Wendy out of the deep bits. Nice to see Maryla back with us for a short while (obviously having to build up to it again).
Malcolm
7 Good Men & 2 Great Ladies
Dear Bridge Builders/Fellow Voles
The photos from yesterday are now up on flickr at www.flickr.com/photos/pitzys_pyx/
I am afraid that I shall miss next Tuesday, wherever you are, as I have a scan appointment for Tuesday morning.
Thanks to Audrey, John, Malcolm and Maryla for all those waist enhancing cakes and hot drinks.
Feel free to comment in the boxes in flickr.
Cheers.
JP
-----Original Message-----
From: John Pitts [mailto:john@pitts26.freeserve.co.uk]
Sent: 06 February 2013 15:14
To: 'Roberta Colin'; 'Malcolm Willis'
Cc: 'Elliott Jeannette (RWN) SE Partnership'; 'Joyce, Cheryl'; 'daveandsteph36@btinternet.com'; 'Liz Millbank'; 'Ann de Winter'; 'Ann Freeman'; 'bazbreed@hotmail.com'; 'Bob Holland'; 'Colin Atkins'; 'Colin Carpenter'; 'Dan Higgins'; 'Dave McKeggie'; 'David Moffatt'; 'David Sedgley'; 'David Withers'; 'David Worth'; 'Frances Maynard'; 'Hilary Ward'; 'James Miller'; 'Jane Breed'; 'Jay Harris'; 'Jeannie Sloman'; 'John Buxton'; 'John Laherty'; 'John Laherty'; 'Julia Burkett'; 'Keggie'; 'Kelvin Horton'; 'Laura Johnston'; 'Linda Payne'; 'Malcolm Willis'; 'Marie Mead'; 'Maryla Carter'; 'Matthew Mead'; 'Olivia Regan'; 'Paul Colbert'; 'Peter Skinner'; 'Peter Stafferton'; 'Richard Hudson'; 'Richard Wood'; 'Roger Christopher'; 'Ros Blevins'; 'Sally Creveul'; 'Stephanie Rees'; 'Steve Jones'; 'Steve Squire'; 'Steve Squire'; 'Stuart Bridgman'; 'Sue Raven'; 'Sue Young'; 'Tim Chamen'; 'wendy.copper@virginmedia.com'
Subject: "Building Bridges"
Don't the years fly by Colin. To refresh our memory! Funny I was telling new Vole Jeanie about your play yesterday!
Cheers
JP
From: Roberta Colin [mailto:robcol2012@hotmail.co.uk]
Sent: 06 February 2013 10:21
To: Malcolm Willis
Cc: Liz Millbank; Elliott Jeannette (RWN) SE Partnership; Joyce, Cheryl; daveandsteph36@btinternet.com; Ann de Winter; Ann Freeman; bazbreed@hotmail.com; Bob Holland; Colin Atkins; Colin Carpenter; Dan Higgins; Dave McKeggie; David Moffatt; David Sedgley; David Withers; David Worth; Frances Maynard; Hilary Ward; James Miller; Jane Breed; Jay Harris; Jeannie Sloman; John Buxton; John Laherty; John Laherty; John Pitts; Julia Burkett; Keggie; Kelvin Horton; Laura Johnston; Linda Payne; Malcolm Willis; Marie Mead; Maryla Carter; Matthew Mead; Olivia Regan; Paul Colbert; Peter Skinner; Peter Stafferton; Richard Hudson; Richard Wood; Roger Christopher; Ros Blevins; Sally Creveul; Stephanie Rees; Steve Jones; Steve Squire; Steve Squire; Stuart Bridgman; Sue Raven; Sue Young; Tim Chamen; wendy.copper@virginmedia.com
Subject: Re: Today at SSNR
Well.... how fascinating! I have seen Liz's reply but not Malcolm's original.(probably to old address). I think I can deduce the gist and literary style!
For more recent voles, I was active 2005-2010 and still take an interest.
If you google Colin Calvert Playwright, you will learn more about me than you ever needed to know - if you're interested! One of my plays is "Building Bridges", very much based on my voling experience. You will recognize many of the characters and situations... The photographer.... The Tea Ceremony... Health and Safety issues... The problems of the managers!... And the interpersonal hassles and hierarchies which occur in any volunteer situation. Naturally, these are pointed up for dramatic effect. Real voles are such nice people! I don't think much has changed over the last 5 years, except maybe the introduction of Cake Wars. I was careful to avoid real names of then-current voles!...and the stage group is the Ferrets. However, you don't have a wannabe John Lennon, or an ASBO member, and lets hope things never get as dramatic as the play. Some incidents, like being taken for a group of parole prisoners litter picking, are direct from life. (During a radio interview, this came out as "pitter licking", which fazed the radio girl, who called me "alan" after that!). There is indeed Eric the Mad Axeman but he is offstage at A&E.
BB has been on around the UK, I have seen 5 local productions... and Ireland, NZ, and USA. I am quite surprised as I thought the humour was essentially English.
ANYWAY, the point of all this is that Building Bridges is due to be presented by Westoning Players in April. I am really pleased as all their productions are excellent.. in such a tiny venue!
Kelvin and I built the boardwalk for the premiere... It is rebuilt on stage during the play...and have offered our services for the WP production. I gather that rehearsals are a bit of a hoot.. which is a good sign..
I will keep you informed about dates, etc when I know. You know what Rabbie Burns said about seeing yourselves as others see you!
Best wishes,
Colin
GST Voles day at Sandy Smith NR 7/3/2017
Mr T.: (rummaging in the back of the land rover).
Okay we haven't had a task in the Wet Fen before so before we start I just need to explain a few things. Firstly as you can see it's very wet here at the entrance so I will not be taking the land rover in. We will have to carry everything in from here. I want four of you strimming the few sparce areas of rushes to the right hand side and one of you mowing a few clearings on the left hand side. The rest of you can help me clear away various metal rubbish in the copse area and then start raking and forking up what's been cut. There are some drag bags here for you. Plus I shall be cutting down a small birch tree which can be cut up and burnt. So I'll need you to take......
Mr. T. turns around to see he is by himself, the voles having walked off into the distance, (well this is SSNR and we always walk off into the distance).
A little later in camp.
Mr. T.: Are you okay to strim *****? (name removed for legal reasons). Just make sure you don't break anything. Are you okay to use the mower ^^^^? (name removed for same reasons). Just make sure you don't break anything.
Right, I just need to go back and get a few things that you lot 'forgot' to bring over with you.
Mr T. returns.
*****: The strimmer's broke.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get the tools to mend it for you.
Mr. T. returns.
^^^^: The mower's broke.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get the tools to mend it for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Anon.: We haven't got any forks.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get them for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Another Anon.: We need drag bags.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get them for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Yet another Anon.: Must be time for a tea break.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get my bag.
The voles settle down for a drink and a few cakes.
Anon anon anon.: Who's going to tell Mr. T. he's forgotten the donuts?
Sobbing could be heard in the distance.
Some time later on this long, drawn out morning.
Mr. T.: It's no good, the rushes are too damp to burn, we'll have to drag them into the copse and pile them there.
Mr. T. walks away.
^^^^, (don't worry Clarkie, no one will know it's you), immediately strips to the waist, covers his chest in cow dung, (last week's having dried out and beginning to flake off), turns and spits into the northeast wind. Rubbing the spittle off his face he calls out to Logi, the Norse god of fire. "Hey up lad we could do with a bit of help down here." So saying he sets light to a box of fire lighters and throws them into the smouldering embers. Flames immediately rise into the bright blue sky as the fire worshipper dances a merry jig and begins to feed the flames.
And so to lunch.
Mr. T.: No more cutting now we just need to rake up what's been cut and either burn it or pile it in the copse.
Volunteer Warden (no experience necessary): Nah, we can strim loads more, there's plenty of time.
Mr. T.: No, we need to let the fire burn down before we leave tonight.
Volunteer Warden (no experience attained): Nah, we'll have finished in half an hour.
Two hours later.
Mr. T.: Most people have left, how is the fire?
Volunteer Warden (basically no experience full stop): (kicking mud onto the flames) Nearly out, could have cut loads more. Gets dark quickly these nights doesn't it?
Any resemblance to the truth is purely coincidental and has nothing to do with the perpetrator of Myths and Legends in Bedfordshire, (out of print).
Thank you to everyone who came along and dragged their heels, ankles, toes, etc. in the mud. Special thanks to those who kept pulling Wendy out of the deep bits. Nice to see Maryla back with us for a short while (obviously having to build up to it again).
Malcolm
Date:Jan 15 2014, 10:51 AM
Subject:
RE: A Right Royal Do!
Show full header
Dear All
Thank you your Majesty and loyal subjects. This speedy correspondence has saved me a lot of palava etc so I shall just say my snaps are up on flickr now at www.flickr.com/photos/pitzys_pyx/.
I should like to say that we missed TWF all day (yes we did) but cold 90s humour might here say "but I couldn't" just for a snigger. I should also like to say thank you to:
Maryla for her Sandy Smith Mud Pies
Liz M for her wonderful shortcake biscuits (the choc chip ones were particularly good :))
Malcolm X for his fruit and vanilla buns, they were very very tasty.
Whoever brought the Jaffa Cakes
To you all for your laughs and banter.
Dave Lowe for his folk and Beetles songs.
For those who wondered why I had stopped by the road side on my way home see the first snap.
Cheers
JP
Now this is what makes Tuesdays such fun and keeps me nearly sane – you should see me when I’m really balmy! Very many apologies for the lack of cake – I will try hardy next time (depending on the day and the venue!).
Thanks for all the grovelling and the wonderful singing. Could you just shorten my name to She as long as I promise not to do an “Ursula Undress” and wear a chamois leather. Thanks also for the decent weather, not that it was cold where I was standing!
I can report that I was at the Rufus Centre this afternoon and there was JB, Audrey and their lovely daughter. JB allowed me to feel his new pulse and I can recommend it as a strange experience and I think he’s got a battery somewhere that gives electric twitches.
Bon voyage to the Breeds who will be sadly missed for a while. See the rest of you somewhere in the wilds of Bedfordshire and hopefully next Tuesday.
Thanks Mr. Kippling – your writing talents are beyond compare and your cakes are pretty wonderful too. Tally Ho! She
From: Steve Squire [mailto:Steve.Squire@greensandtrust.org]
Sent: 14 January 2014 21:36
To: Malcolm Willis; Tim Spencer; bazbreed@hotmail.com; 'Colin Atkins'; 'Dave Clarke'; 'David Moffatt'; 'James Miller'; 'Jane Breed'; 'John Buxton'; 'John Pitts'; 'Kelvin Horton'; 'Malcolm Willis'; 'Marie Mead'; 'Maryla Carter'; 'Peter Stafferton'; 'Roger Christopher'; 'Ros Blevins'; 'Steve Jones'; Sue Raven; 'Tim Chamen'; wendy.copper@virginmedia.com
Cc: She who must be obeyed
Subject: RE: A Right Royal Do!
Good to see you now have an official email Sue .
Well done Malcolm for making me laugh , very good thank you and to Jock with hot bum in fire.
And thank you all too for working so hard with or without Royal Cake!
Regards
Steve
From: Malcolm Willis [malcolmJwillis@btinternet.com]
Sent: 14 January 2014 21:13
To: Tim Spencer; bazbreed@hotmail.com; 'Colin Atkins'; 'Dave Clarke'; 'David Moffatt'; 'James Miller'; 'Jane Breed'; 'John Buxton'; 'John Pitts'; 'Kelvin Horton'; 'Malcolm Willis'; 'Marie Mead'; 'Maryla Carter'; 'Peter Stafferton'; 'Roger Christopher'; 'Ros Blevins'; 'Steve Jones'; Steve Squire; Sue Raven; 'Tim Chamen'; wendy.copper@virginmedia.com
Cc: She who must be obeyed
Subject: A Right Royal Do!
The stately limousine sailed into sight like a swan upon an enchanted lake. The blue eye that is heaven became bedazzled by the occasion, even the golden beams of universal eternity dipped in homage. The line of voles, once ordinary looking, became unworthy in the instant. The conveyance glided to a halt. The door opened. Hearts that only seconds ago had been pounding chests for freedom were now in suspended animation and inexplicably in mouths agog in anticipation. And then there she was. Serenely climbing down the stepladders (which had been thoughtfully placed out of view of the cameras), she emerged onto the immediately hallowed turf of SSNR [By Appointment to Her Right Royaltiness the Lady Youthfulness].
The appointed Dave stepped forward and humbled himself. An unfortunate occurrence given the magnitude of the occasion. The reserve Dave stepped into the breach. Another unfortunate occurrence! Finally the ‘if all else fails’ Dave came to the rescue.
Bowing so low it made his eyes water he addressed her Supreme Being: “Your Majestyness, if I may be so humbly bold as to..”
Her ladyship interrupted as only one of noble birth can: “Are you a Dimbleby Dave?”
‘If all else fails’ Dave: “Err no?”
Her Exquisiteness: “Then go away.” The nobility of the extended hand flutter in Dave’s direction and immediately he was dispatched as like a game bird on the 1st September.
Her Exquisite Ladyshipness: “My husband and I..” A half turn to the limo revealed a slight glitch. “Oh bother, I must have left him somewhere again. Never mind, I shall continue. Myself and I remember only too vividly the diem horribilis that was last week. But we must move on.”
So saying Her Supremeliness moved on proffering dainty dexterous digits for the gathered ensemble to pucker up their trembling lips to.
Her Regality: “Oh I say what an obnoxious hound.”
Several male voles looked even further ashamed and took several steps back towards oblivion.
Her Lady Regal Exquisiteness: “I was referring to the dog.”
The males voles teetered on the edge of the abyss that is ordinariness. One brave soul remarked: “That is Jock, a rescued dog, he was found in a large, handbag, with handles. He was probably brought up in it.”
Her Lady Ladyness:“ I must confess that I feel somewhat bewildered by what you have just told me. To be born, or at any rate bred in a handbag, whether it have handles or not, seems to me to display a contempt for the ordinary decencies of family life which reminds one of the worst excesses of the French revolution, and I presume you know what that unfortunate movement led to?
The voles shook their heads, a few too vigorously causing them to fall off!
Brave Soul: “ Err yessum your womanliness. We believe he lost his parents and so we’ve adopted him like.”
Her Lady Ladyshipness: “To lose one parent, my good man, may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness.”
Little old lady with straw sticking out from under one arm (One Arm!!!!): He’s only being truthful you’re Omnipotence. He’s very earnest so he is and that’s what makes him so highly regarded by us all. ” Having said all this the little old lady retired to lie down until lunchtime.
Lady Youthfulness: “Well I suppose that’s the importance of being earnest.”
[I bet that’s made Oscar wild!]
Little old lady with straw sticking out from under one arm (One Arm!!!!): “Who’s Oscar?”
So many congratulation to Lady Sue on yet another birthday without a cake big enough to hold all the candles.
No doubt Mr Pitts will shortly be circulating a stunning array of pics so all who weren’t there today will see what the rest of us were up to. Basically following the Squire around, picking up loads of cut reeds (or in a little old lady’s case an odd bunch here and there!); carting them off to be burnt; telling the Squire not to go in the boggy bit; pulling the Squire out of the boggy bit!; showing the Squire were to cut next; sending out explorers to find where the Squire went!; telling the Squire it’s time to stop cutting; retelling the Squire it’s time to stop cutting; telling the local warden to stop telling the Squire to keep cutting!; getting bored of feeding the fire while the mound of cut reeds keeps growing; setting fire to the mound of cut reeds and blaming it on the person furthest away (Colin); eating muffins; eating biscuits (thanks Lillybeth); eating chocolate cake off the ground (thanks Maryla!); eating Jaffa cakes; moaning that there is no pudding!; moaning that Her Ladyship didn’t bring a birthday cake! and generally having fun.
Thanks to everyone who left early and didn’t stay to watch Jock walk across the ash (several times), try to make a ‘nest’ in the hot ash! (he dashed out pretty quick) and finally lie down in the ash!!!
Malcolm.
Date:Jan 15 2014, 10:51 AM
Subject:
RE: A Right Royal Do!
Show full header
Dear All
Thank you your Majesty and loyal subjects. This speedy correspondence has saved me a lot of palava etc so I shall just say my snaps are up on flickr now at www.flickr.com/photos/pitzys_pyx/.
I should like to say that we missed TWF all day (yes we did) but cold 90s humour might here say "but I couldn't" just for a snigger. I should also like to say thank you to:
Maryla for her Sandy Smith Mud Pies
Liz M for her wonderful shortcake biscuits (the choc chip ones were particularly good :))
Malcolm X for his fruit and vanilla buns, they were very very tasty.
Whoever brought the Jaffa Cakes
To you all for your laughs and banter.
Dave Lowe for his folk and Beetles songs.
For those who wondered why I had stopped by the road side on my way home see the first snap.
Cheers
JP
Now this is what makes Tuesdays such fun and keeps me nearly sane – you should see me when I’m really balmy! Very many apologies for the lack of cake – I will try hardy next time (depending on the day and the venue!).
Thanks for all the grovelling and the wonderful singing. Could you just shorten my name to She as long as I promise not to do an “Ursula Undress” and wear a chamois leather. Thanks also for the decent weather, not that it was cold where I was standing!
I can report that I was at the Rufus Centre this afternoon and there was JB, Audrey and their lovely daughter. JB allowed me to feel his new pulse and I can recommend it as a strange experience and I think he’s got a battery somewhere that gives electric twitches.
Bon voyage to the Breeds who will be sadly missed for a while. See the rest of you somewhere in the wilds of Bedfordshire and hopefully next Tuesday.
Thanks Mr. Kippling – your writing talents are beyond compare and your cakes are pretty wonderful too. Tally Ho! She
From: Steve Squire [mailto:Steve.Squire@greensandtrust.org]
Sent: 14 January 2014 21:36
To: Malcolm Willis; Tim Spencer; bazbreed@hotmail.com; 'Colin Atkins'; 'Dave Clarke'; 'David Moffatt'; 'James Miller'; 'Jane Breed'; 'John Buxton'; 'John Pitts'; 'Kelvin Horton'; 'Malcolm Willis'; 'Marie Mead'; 'Maryla Carter'; 'Peter Stafferton'; 'Roger Christopher'; 'Ros Blevins'; 'Steve Jones'; Sue Raven; 'Tim Chamen'; wendy.copper@virginmedia.com
Cc: She who must be obeyed
Subject: RE: A Right Royal Do!
Good to see you now have an official email Sue .
Well done Malcolm for making me laugh , very good thank you and to Jock with hot bum in fire.
And thank you all too for working so hard with or without Royal Cake!
Regards
Steve
From: Malcolm Willis [malcolmJwillis@btinternet.com]
Sent: 14 January 2014 21:13
To: Tim Spencer; bazbreed@hotmail.com; 'Colin Atkins'; 'Dave Clarke'; 'David Moffatt'; 'James Miller'; 'Jane Breed'; 'John Buxton'; 'John Pitts'; 'Kelvin Horton'; 'Malcolm Willis'; 'Marie Mead'; 'Maryla Carter'; 'Peter Stafferton'; 'Roger Christopher'; 'Ros Blevins'; 'Steve Jones'; Steve Squire; Sue Raven; 'Tim Chamen'; wendy.copper@virginmedia.com
Cc: She who must be obeyed
Subject: A Right Royal Do!
The stately limousine sailed into sight like a swan upon an enchanted lake. The blue eye that is heaven became bedazzled by the occasion, even the golden beams of universal eternity dipped in homage. The line of voles, once ordinary looking, became unworthy in the instant. The conveyance glided to a halt. The door opened. Hearts that only seconds ago had been pounding chests for freedom were now in suspended animation and inexplicably in mouths agog in anticipation. And then there she was. Serenely climbing down the stepladders (which had been thoughtfully placed out of view of the cameras), she emerged onto the immediately hallowed turf of SSNR [By Appointment to Her Right Royaltiness the Lady Youthfulness].
The appointed Dave stepped forward and humbled himself. An unfortunate occurrence given the magnitude of the occasion. The reserve Dave stepped into the breach. Another unfortunate occurrence! Finally the ‘if all else fails’ Dave came to the rescue.
Bowing so low it made his eyes water he addressed her Supreme Being: “Your Majestyness, if I may be so humbly bold as to..”
Her ladyship interrupted as only one of noble birth can: “Are you a Dimbleby Dave?”
‘If all else fails’ Dave: “Err no?”
Her Exquisiteness: “Then go away.” The nobility of the extended hand flutter in Dave’s direction and immediately he was dispatched as like a game bird on the 1st September.
Her Exquisite Ladyshipness: “My husband and I..” A half turn to the limo revealed a slight glitch. “Oh bother, I must have left him somewhere again. Never mind, I shall continue. Myself and I remember only too vividly the diem horribilis that was last week. But we must move on.”
So saying Her Supremeliness moved on proffering dainty dexterous digits for the gathered ensemble to pucker up their trembling lips to.
Her Regality: “Oh I say what an obnoxious hound.”
Several male voles looked even further ashamed and took several steps back towards oblivion.
Her Lady Regal Exquisiteness: “I was referring to the dog.”
The males voles teetered on the edge of the abyss that is ordinariness. One brave soul remarked: “That is Jock, a rescued dog, he was found in a large, handbag, with handles. He was probably brought up in it.”
Her Lady Ladyness:“ I must confess that I feel somewhat bewildered by what you have just told me. To be born, or at any rate bred in a handbag, whether it have handles or not, seems to me to display a contempt for the ordinary decencies of family life which reminds one of the worst excesses of the French revolution, and I presume you know what that unfortunate movement led to?
The voles shook their heads, a few too vigorously causing them to fall off!
Brave Soul: “ Err yessum your womanliness. We believe he lost his parents and so we’ve adopted him like.”
Her Lady Ladyshipness: “To lose one parent, my good man, may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness.”
Little old lady with straw sticking out from under one arm (One Arm!!!!): He’s only being truthful you’re Omnipotence. He’s very earnest so he is and that’s what makes him so highly regarded by us all. ” Having said all this the little old lady retired to lie down until lunchtime.
Lady Youthfulness: “Well I suppose that’s the importance of being earnest.”
[I bet that’s made Oscar wild!]
Little old lady with straw sticking out from under one arm (One Arm!!!!): “Who’s Oscar?”
So many congratulation to Lady Sue on yet another birthday without a cake big enough to hold all the candles.
No doubt Mr Pitts will shortly be circulating a stunning array of pics so all who weren’t there today will see what the rest of us were up to. Basically following the Squire around, picking up loads of cut reeds (or in a little old lady’s case an odd bunch here and there!); carting them off to be burnt; telling the Squire not to go in the boggy bit; pulling the Squire out of the boggy bit!; showing the Squire were to cut next; sending out explorers to find where the Squire went!; telling the Squire it’s time to stop cutting; retelling the Squire it’s time to stop cutting; telling the local warden to stop telling the Squire to keep cutting!; getting bored of feeding the fire while the mound of cut reeds keeps growing; setting fire to the mound of cut reeds and blaming it on the person furthest away (Colin); eating muffins; eating biscuits (thanks Lillybeth); eating chocolate cake off the ground (thanks Maryla!); eating Jaffa cakes; moaning that there is no pudding!; moaning that Her Ladyship didn’t bring a birthday cake! and generally having fun.
Thanks to everyone who left early and didn’t stay to watch Jock walk across the ash (several times), try to make a ‘nest’ in the hot ash! (he dashed out pretty quick) and finally lie down in the ash!!!
Malcolm.
GST Voles day at Sandy Smith NR 7/3/2017
Mr T.: (rummaging in the back of the land rover).
Okay we haven't had a task in the Wet Fen before so before we start I just need to explain a few things. Firstly as you can see it's very wet here at the entrance so I will not be taking the land rover in. We will have to carry everything in from here. I want four of you strimming the few sparce areas of rushes to the right hand side and one of you mowing a few clearings on the left hand side. The rest of you can help me clear away various metal rubbish in the copse area and then start raking and forking up what's been cut. There are some drag bags here for you. Plus I shall be cutting down a small birch tree which can be cut up and burnt. So I'll need you to take......
Mr. T. turns around to see he is by himself, the voles having walked off into the distance, (well this is SSNR and we always walk off into the distance).
A little later in camp.
Mr. T.: Are you okay to strim *****? (name removed for legal reasons). Just make sure you don't break anything. Are you okay to use the mower ^^^^? (name removed for same reasons). Just make sure you don't break anything.
Right, I just need to go back and get a few things that you lot 'forgot' to bring over with you.
Mr T. returns.
*****: The strimmer's broke.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get the tools to mend it for you.
Mr. T. returns.
^^^^: The mower's broke.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get the tools to mend it for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Anon.: We haven't got any forks.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get them for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Another Anon.: We need drag bags.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get them for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Yet another Anon.: Must be time for a tea break.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get my bag.
The voles settle down for a drink and a few cakes.
Anon anon anon.: Who's going to tell Mr. T. he's forgotten the donuts?
Sobbing could be heard in the distance.
Some time later on this long, drawn out morning.
Mr. T.: It's no good, the rushes are too damp to burn, we'll have to drag them into the copse and pile them there.
Mr. T. walks away.
^^^^, (don't worry Clarkie, no one will know it's you), immediately strips to the waist, covers his chest in cow dung, (last week's having dried out and beginning to flake off), turns and spits into the northeast wind. Rubbing the spittle off his face he calls out to Logi, the Norse god of fire. "Hey up lad we could do with a bit of help down here." So saying he sets light to a box of fire lighters and throws them into the smouldering embers. Flames immediately rise into the bright blue sky as the fire worshipper dances a merry jig and begins to feed the flames.
And so to lunch.
Mr. T.: No more cutting now we just need to rake up what's been cut and either burn it or pile it in the copse.
Volunteer Warden (no experience necessary): Nah, we can strim loads more, there's plenty of time.
Mr. T.: No, we need to let the fire burn down before we leave tonight.
Volunteer Warden (no experience attained): Nah, we'll have finished in half an hour.
Two hours later.
Mr. T.: Most people have left, how is the fire?
Volunteer Warden (basically no experience full stop): (kicking mud onto the flames) Nearly out, could have cut loads more. Gets dark quickly these nights doesn't it?
Any resemblance to the truth is purely coincidental and has nothing to do with the perpetrator of Myths and Legends in Bedfordshire, (out of print).
Thank you to everyone who came along and dragged their heels, ankles, toes, etc. in the mud. Special thanks to those who kept pulling Wendy out of the deep bits. Nice to see Maryla back with us for a short while (obviously having to build up to it again).
Malcolm
GST Voles day at Sandy Smith NR 7/3/2017
Mr T.: (rummaging in the back of the land rover).
Okay we haven't had a task in the Wet Fen before so before we start I just need to explain a few things. Firstly as you can see it's very wet here at the entrance so I will not be taking the land rover in. We will have to carry everything in from here. I want four of you strimming the few sparce areas of rushes to the right hand side and one of you mowing a few clearings on the left hand side. The rest of you can help me clear away various metal rubbish in the copse area and then start raking and forking up what's been cut. There are some drag bags here for you. Plus I shall be cutting down a small birch tree which can be cut up and burnt. So I'll need you to take......
Mr. T. turns around to see he is by himself, the voles having walked off into the distance, (well this is SSNR and we always walk off into the distance).
A little later in camp.
Mr. T.: Are you okay to strim *****? (name removed for legal reasons). Just make sure you don't break anything. Are you okay to use the mower ^^^^? (name removed for same reasons). Just make sure you don't break anything.
Right, I just need to go back and get a few things that you lot 'forgot' to bring over with you.
Mr T. returns.
*****: The strimmer's broke.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get the tools to mend it for you.
Mr. T. returns.
^^^^: The mower's broke.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get the tools to mend it for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Anon.: We haven't got any forks.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get them for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Another Anon.: We need drag bags.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get them for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Yet another Anon.: Must be time for a tea break.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get my bag.
The voles settle down for a drink and a few cakes.
Anon anon anon.: Who's going to tell Mr. T. he's forgotten the donuts?
Sobbing could be heard in the distance.
Some time later on this long, drawn out morning.
Mr. T.: It's no good, the rushes are too damp to burn, we'll have to drag them into the copse and pile them there.
Mr. T. walks away.
^^^^, (don't worry Clarkie, no one will know it's you), immediately strips to the waist, covers his chest in cow dung, (last week's having dried out and beginning to flake off), turns and spits into the northeast wind. Rubbing the spittle off his face he calls out to Logi, the Norse god of fire. "Hey up lad we could do with a bit of help down here." So saying he sets light to a box of fire lighters and throws them into the smouldering embers. Flames immediately rise into the bright blue sky as the fire worshipper dances a merry jig and begins to feed the flames.
And so to lunch.
Mr. T.: No more cutting now we just need to rake up what's been cut and either burn it or pile it in the copse.
Volunteer Warden (no experience necessary): Nah, we can strim loads more, there's plenty of time.
Mr. T.: No, we need to let the fire burn down before we leave tonight.
Volunteer Warden (no experience attained): Nah, we'll have finished in half an hour.
Two hours later.
Mr. T.: Most people have left, how is the fire?
Volunteer Warden (basically no experience full stop): (kicking mud onto the flames) Nearly out, could have cut loads more. Gets dark quickly these nights doesn't it?
Any resemblance to the truth is purely coincidental and has nothing to do with the perpetrator of Myths and Legends in Bedfordshire, (out of print).
Thank you to everyone who came along and dragged their heels, ankles, toes, etc. in the mud. Special thanks to those who kept pulling Wendy out of the deep bits. Nice to see Maryla back with us for a short while (obviously having to build up to it again).
Malcolm
East German starfoto by VEB Progress Film-Verleih, Berlin, no. 182/70. Daniel Olbrychski and Pola Raksa in Popioly / The Ashes (Andrzej Wajda, 1965).
Handsome and athletic Daniel Olbrychski (1945) is a Polish actor best known for his leading roles in several Andrzej Wajda films. He also worked with Volker Schlöndorff, Krzysztof Kieślowski, Claude Lelouch and recently played Russian defector and spymaster Vassily Orlov opposite Angelina Jolie in the Hollywood blockbuster Salt (2011).
Daniel Marcel Olbrychski was born in Łowicz, Poland, in 1945 as the son of Franciszka Olbrychski and Klementyny Sołonowicz-Olbrychski. He attended the Gimnazjum i Liceum im. Stefana Batorego in Warsaw. In the years 1963 and 1964, he performed at the Teatr Młodzieżowy TVP (Youth Theatre) under the direction of Andrzeja Konica. He started to attend the Państwowa Wyższa Szkoła Teatralna (Academy of Dramatic Arts in Warsaw), but never finished his studies. In 1964, his film career started at the age of 18 with the war film Ranny w lesie / Wounded in the Forest (Janusz Nasfeter, 1964). A year later, he worked for the first time with director Andrzej Wajda at the Western-style War epic Popioły / The Ashes (Andrzej Wajda, 1965), which was entered into the 1966 Cannes Film Festival. He also appeared in Wajda’s Wszystko na sprzedaż / Everything for Sale (Andrzej Wajda, 1969) with Beata Tyszkiewicz, and the comedy Polowanie na muchy / Hunting Flies (Andrzej Wajda, 1969). He then had the lead in the drama Życie rodzinne / Family Life (Krzysztof Zanussi, 1971). He also starred in the drama Krajobraz po bitwie / Landscape After the Battle (Andrzej Wajda, 1970), the story of a Nazi German concentration camp survivor soon after liberation, residing in a DP camp somewhere in Germany. The film is based on the writings of Holocaust survivor and Polish author Tadeusz Borowski. Olbrychski also starred in the drama Brzezina / The Birch Wood (Andrzej Wajda, 1970), based on a novel by Jarosław Iwaszkiewicz. It was entered into the 7th Moscow International Film Festival, where Andrzej Wajda won the Golden Prize for Direction and Daniel Olbrychski won the award for Best Actor. They also worked together on the German drama Pilatus und andere - Ein Film für Karfreitag / Pilate and Others (Andrzej Wajda, 1972), based on the 1967 novel 'The Master and Margarita' by the Soviet writer Mikhail Bulgakov. Then followed Wesele / The Wedding (Andrzej Wajda, 1972), an adaptation of a play by Stanisław Wyspiański which Wajda also directed for the theatre. Wesele describes the perils of the national drive toward self-determination after the Polish uprisings of November 1830 and January 1863, the result of the Partitions of Poland. Ziemia Obiecana / The Promised Land (Andrzej Wajda, 1975) is a drama based on a novel by Władysław Reymont. Set in the industrial city of Łódź, The Promised Land tells the story of a Pole, a German, and a Jew struggling to build a factory in the raw world of 19th-century capitalism. Very popular was the Polish-Soviet historical drama Potop / The Deluge (Jerzy Hoffman, 1974), based on the 1886 novel by Henryk Sienkiewicz. It was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film at the 47th Academy Awards, but lost to Amarcord (Federico Fellini, 1973). The film is the third most popular in the history of Polish cinema, with some 28 million tickets sold in Poland and 30.5 million in the Soviet Union. Olbrychski also starred in Panny z Wilka / The Maids of Wilko (Andrzej Wajda, 1979), which was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film. Daniel Olbruchski then played one of the leads in Volker Schlöndorff's masterpiece Die Blechtrommel / The Tin Drum (1979) based on Günter Grass's novel. The Tin Drum was one of the most financially successful German films of the 1970s. It won the 1979 Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film and was jointly awarded the 1979 Palme d'Or at the 1979 Cannes Film Festival, along with Apocalypse Now (Francis Ford Coppola, 1979).
IMDb describes Daniel Olbrychski as a ‘hot-tempered patriot’, who would enjoy horseback riding on town centre squares. Another amusing anecdote is that once a picture of Olbrychski as an SS-man was displayed in a contemporary art exhibition. As soon as he knew this, he went armed with a sabre and with a TV news crew to the exhibition room, where he cut down his portrait, ending its existence. In the 1980s, he gradually switched from leads to supporting roles. He appeared in the popular French musical epic Les Uns et les Autres / Bolero: Dance of Life (Claude Lelouch, 1981). Other West-European films include La Truite / The Trout (Joseph Losey, 1982), starring Isabelle Huppert, Eine Liebe in Deutschland / A Love in Germany (Andrzej Wajda, 1983) with Hanna Schygulla, and Die Geduld der Rosa Luxemburg / Rosa Luxemburg (Margarethe von Trotta, 1986) featuring Barbara Sukowa. Rosa Luxemburg received the German Film Award (Bundesfilmpreis) as best feature film. In 1986, Olbrychski received the French L'Ordre national de la Légion d'honneur (Legion of Honour). In Italy, he made the drama Mosca addio / Farewell Moscow (Mauro Bolognini, 1987) based on the life of Russian Jew Ida Nudel. For this film, Liv Ullmann was awarded a David di Donatello for Best Actress. He then had his American debut in The Unbearable Lightness of Being (Philip Kaufman, 1988), the successful film adaptation of the novel by Milan Kundera starring Daniel Day-Lewis. He also appeared in the third of the ten episodes in Krzysztof Kieślowski's classic Polish TV series Dekalog / The Decalogue (1988). His films during the 1990s were less prominent. He had a part in the Polish historical drama Ogniem i Mieczem / With Fire and Sword (Jerzy Hoffman, 1999), based on a novel by Henryk Sienkiewicz and starring ‘Bond girl’ Izabella Scorupco. At the time of its filming, it was the most expensive Polish film ever made. Olbrychski and Wajda reunited for Pan Tadeusz / Pan Tadeusz: The Last Foray in Lithuania (Andrzej Wajda, 1999), based on the epic poem by Polish poet, writer and philosopher Adam Mickiewicz, and for the comedy Zemsta / The Revenge (Andrzej Wajda, 2002), an adaptation of a popular stage farce of Aleksander Fredro with director Roman Polanski in the lead role. In 2007, Olbrychski received the Stanislavsky Award at the 29th Moscow International Film Festival for his outstanding achievement in the career of acting and devotion to the principles of Stanislavsky's school. His part was remarkable as the sinister Russian defector who accused Angelina Jolie of being a Russian spy in the American action thriller Salt (Philip Noyce, 2010). Since then he appeared in the German film Wintertochter (Johannes Schmid, 2011), the Polish historical film Bitwa warszawska 1920 / Battle of Warsaw 1920 (Jerzy Hoffman, 2011) and in the Russian production Legenda No. 17 / Legend No. 17 (Nikolay Lebedev, 2013), a biopic of Russian ice hockey legend Valeri Kharlamov (played by Danila Kozlovsky). Daniel Olbrychski married three times. His first wife was Monika Dzienisiewicz-Olbrychska (1967-1977), with whom he has a son, actor Rafał Olbrychski (1971). His second wife was Zuzanna Lapicka (1978-1988), with whom he has a daughter, Weronika (1982). Since 2003, he has been married to Krystyna Demska. He is also the father of Viktor Sukowa, who was born into a relationship with German actress Barbara Sukowa. In the mid-1970s, he had a 3-year relationship with singer Maryla Rodowicz.
Sources: Sandra Brennan (AllMovie), Film Polski (Polish), Wikipedia (English and Polish) and IMDb.
And, please check out our blog European Film Star Postcards.
Date:Jan 15 2014, 10:51 AM
Subject:
RE: A Right Royal Do!
Show full header
Dear All
Thank you your Majesty and loyal subjects. This speedy correspondence has saved me a lot of palava etc so I shall just say my snaps are up on flickr now at www.flickr.com/photos/pitzys_pyx/.
I should like to say that we missed TWF all day (yes we did) but cold 90s humour might here say "but I couldn't" just for a snigger. I should also like to say thank you to:
Maryla for her Sandy Smith Mud Pies
Liz M for her wonderful shortcake biscuits (the choc chip ones were particularly good :))
Malcolm X for his fruit and vanilla buns, they were very very tasty.
Whoever brought the Jaffa Cakes
To you all for your laughs and banter.
Dave Lowe for his folk and Beetles songs.
For those who wondered why I had stopped by the road side on my way home see the first snap.
Cheers
JP
Now this is what makes Tuesdays such fun and keeps me nearly sane – you should see me when I’m really balmy! Very many apologies for the lack of cake – I will try hardy next time (depending on the day and the venue!).
Thanks for all the grovelling and the wonderful singing. Could you just shorten my name to She as long as I promise not to do an “Ursula Undress” and wear a chamois leather. Thanks also for the decent weather, not that it was cold where I was standing!
I can report that I was at the Rufus Centre this afternoon and there was JB, Audrey and their lovely daughter. JB allowed me to feel his new pulse and I can recommend it as a strange experience and I think he’s got a battery somewhere that gives electric twitches.
Bon voyage to the Breeds who will be sadly missed for a while. See the rest of you somewhere in the wilds of Bedfordshire and hopefully next Tuesday.
Thanks Mr. Kippling – your writing talents are beyond compare and your cakes are pretty wonderful too. Tally Ho! She
From: Steve Squire [mailto:Steve.Squire@greensandtrust.org]
Sent: 14 January 2014 21:36
To: Malcolm Willis; Tim Spencer; bazbreed@hotmail.com; 'Colin Atkins'; 'Dave Clarke'; 'David Moffatt'; 'James Miller'; 'Jane Breed'; 'John Buxton'; 'John Pitts'; 'Kelvin Horton'; 'Malcolm Willis'; 'Marie Mead'; 'Maryla Carter'; 'Peter Stafferton'; 'Roger Christopher'; 'Ros Blevins'; 'Steve Jones'; Sue Raven; 'Tim Chamen'; wendy.copper@virginmedia.com
Cc: She who must be obeyed
Subject: RE: A Right Royal Do!
Good to see you now have an official email Sue .
Well done Malcolm for making me laugh , very good thank you and to Jock with hot bum in fire.
And thank you all too for working so hard with or without Royal Cake!
Regards
Steve
From: Malcolm Willis [malcolmJwillis@btinternet.com]
Sent: 14 January 2014 21:13
To: Tim Spencer; bazbreed@hotmail.com; 'Colin Atkins'; 'Dave Clarke'; 'David Moffatt'; 'James Miller'; 'Jane Breed'; 'John Buxton'; 'John Pitts'; 'Kelvin Horton'; 'Malcolm Willis'; 'Marie Mead'; 'Maryla Carter'; 'Peter Stafferton'; 'Roger Christopher'; 'Ros Blevins'; 'Steve Jones'; Steve Squire; Sue Raven; 'Tim Chamen'; wendy.copper@virginmedia.com
Cc: She who must be obeyed
Subject: A Right Royal Do!
The stately limousine sailed into sight like a swan upon an enchanted lake. The blue eye that is heaven became bedazzled by the occasion, even the golden beams of universal eternity dipped in homage. The line of voles, once ordinary looking, became unworthy in the instant. The conveyance glided to a halt. The door opened. Hearts that only seconds ago had been pounding chests for freedom were now in suspended animation and inexplicably in mouths agog in anticipation. And then there she was. Serenely climbing down the stepladders (which had been thoughtfully placed out of view of the cameras), she emerged onto the immediately hallowed turf of SSNR [By Appointment to Her Right Royaltiness the Lady Youthfulness].
The appointed Dave stepped forward and humbled himself. An unfortunate occurrence given the magnitude of the occasion. The reserve Dave stepped into the breach. Another unfortunate occurrence! Finally the ‘if all else fails’ Dave came to the rescue.
Bowing so low it made his eyes water he addressed her Supreme Being: “Your Majestyness, if I may be so humbly bold as to..”
Her ladyship interrupted as only one of noble birth can: “Are you a Dimbleby Dave?”
‘If all else fails’ Dave: “Err no?”
Her Exquisiteness: “Then go away.” The nobility of the extended hand flutter in Dave’s direction and immediately he was dispatched as like a game bird on the 1st September.
Her Exquisite Ladyshipness: “My husband and I..” A half turn to the limo revealed a slight glitch. “Oh bother, I must have left him somewhere again. Never mind, I shall continue. Myself and I remember only too vividly the diem horribilis that was last week. But we must move on.”
So saying Her Supremeliness moved on proffering dainty dexterous digits for the gathered ensemble to pucker up their trembling lips to.
Her Regality: “Oh I say what an obnoxious hound.”
Several male voles looked even further ashamed and took several steps back towards oblivion.
Her Lady Regal Exquisiteness: “I was referring to the dog.”
The males voles teetered on the edge of the abyss that is ordinariness. One brave soul remarked: “That is Jock, a rescued dog, he was found in a large, handbag, with handles. He was probably brought up in it.”
Her Lady Ladyness:“ I must confess that I feel somewhat bewildered by what you have just told me. To be born, or at any rate bred in a handbag, whether it have handles or not, seems to me to display a contempt for the ordinary decencies of family life which reminds one of the worst excesses of the French revolution, and I presume you know what that unfortunate movement led to?
The voles shook their heads, a few too vigorously causing them to fall off!
Brave Soul: “ Err yessum your womanliness. We believe he lost his parents and so we’ve adopted him like.”
Her Lady Ladyshipness: “To lose one parent, my good man, may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness.”
Little old lady with straw sticking out from under one arm (One Arm!!!!): He’s only being truthful you’re Omnipotence. He’s very earnest so he is and that’s what makes him so highly regarded by us all. ” Having said all this the little old lady retired to lie down until lunchtime.
Lady Youthfulness: “Well I suppose that’s the importance of being earnest.”
[I bet that’s made Oscar wild!]
Little old lady with straw sticking out from under one arm (One Arm!!!!): “Who’s Oscar?”
So many congratulation to Lady Sue on yet another birthday without a cake big enough to hold all the candles.
No doubt Mr Pitts will shortly be circulating a stunning array of pics so all who weren’t there today will see what the rest of us were up to. Basically following the Squire around, picking up loads of cut reeds (or in a little old lady’s case an odd bunch here and there!); carting them off to be burnt; telling the Squire not to go in the boggy bit; pulling the Squire out of the boggy bit!; showing the Squire were to cut next; sending out explorers to find where the Squire went!; telling the Squire it’s time to stop cutting; retelling the Squire it’s time to stop cutting; telling the local warden to stop telling the Squire to keep cutting!; getting bored of feeding the fire while the mound of cut reeds keeps growing; setting fire to the mound of cut reeds and blaming it on the person furthest away (Colin); eating muffins; eating biscuits (thanks Lillybeth); eating chocolate cake off the ground (thanks Maryla!); eating Jaffa cakes; moaning that there is no pudding!; moaning that Her Ladyship didn’t bring a birthday cake! and generally having fun.
Thanks to everyone who left early and didn’t stay to watch Jock walk across the ash (several times), try to make a ‘nest’ in the hot ash! (he dashed out pretty quick) and finally lie down in the ash!!!
Malcolm.
Date:Jan 15 2014, 10:51 AM
Subject:
RE: A Right Royal Do!
Show full header
Dear All
Thank you your Majesty and loyal subjects. This speedy correspondence has saved me a lot of palava etc so I shall just say my snaps are up on flickr now at www.flickr.com/photos/pitzys_pyx/.
I should like to say that we missed TWF all day (yes we did) but cold 90s humour might here say "but I couldn't" just for a snigger. I should also like to say thank you to:
Maryla for her Sandy Smith Mud Pies
Liz M for her wonderful shortcake biscuits (the choc chip ones were particularly good :))
Malcolm X for his fruit and vanilla buns, they were very very tasty.
Whoever brought the Jaffa Cakes
To you all for your laughs and banter.
Dave Lowe for his folk and Beetles songs.
For those who wondered why I had stopped by the road side on my way home see the first snap.
Cheers
JP
Now this is what makes Tuesdays such fun and keeps me nearly sane – you should see me when I’m really balmy! Very many apologies for the lack of cake – I will try hardy next time (depending on the day and the venue!).
Thanks for all the grovelling and the wonderful singing. Could you just shorten my name to She as long as I promise not to do an “Ursula Undress” and wear a chamois leather. Thanks also for the decent weather, not that it was cold where I was standing!
I can report that I was at the Rufus Centre this afternoon and there was JB, Audrey and their lovely daughter. JB allowed me to feel his new pulse and I can recommend it as a strange experience and I think he’s got a battery somewhere that gives electric twitches.
Bon voyage to the Breeds who will be sadly missed for a while. See the rest of you somewhere in the wilds of Bedfordshire and hopefully next Tuesday.
Thanks Mr. Kippling – your writing talents are beyond compare and your cakes are pretty wonderful too. Tally Ho! She
From: Steve Squire [mailto:Steve.Squire@greensandtrust.org]
Sent: 14 January 2014 21:36
To: Malcolm Willis; Tim Spencer; bazbreed@hotmail.com; 'Colin Atkins'; 'Dave Clarke'; 'David Moffatt'; 'James Miller'; 'Jane Breed'; 'John Buxton'; 'John Pitts'; 'Kelvin Horton'; 'Malcolm Willis'; 'Marie Mead'; 'Maryla Carter'; 'Peter Stafferton'; 'Roger Christopher'; 'Ros Blevins'; 'Steve Jones'; Sue Raven; 'Tim Chamen'; wendy.copper@virginmedia.com
Cc: She who must be obeyed
Subject: RE: A Right Royal Do!
Good to see you now have an official email Sue .
Well done Malcolm for making me laugh , very good thank you and to Jock with hot bum in fire.
And thank you all too for working so hard with or without Royal Cake!
Regards
Steve
From: Malcolm Willis [malcolmJwillis@btinternet.com]
Sent: 14 January 2014 21:13
To: Tim Spencer; bazbreed@hotmail.com; 'Colin Atkins'; 'Dave Clarke'; 'David Moffatt'; 'James Miller'; 'Jane Breed'; 'John Buxton'; 'John Pitts'; 'Kelvin Horton'; 'Malcolm Willis'; 'Marie Mead'; 'Maryla Carter'; 'Peter Stafferton'; 'Roger Christopher'; 'Ros Blevins'; 'Steve Jones'; Steve Squire; Sue Raven; 'Tim Chamen'; wendy.copper@virginmedia.com
Cc: She who must be obeyed
Subject: A Right Royal Do!
The stately limousine sailed into sight like a swan upon an enchanted lake. The blue eye that is heaven became bedazzled by the occasion, even the golden beams of universal eternity dipped in homage. The line of voles, once ordinary looking, became unworthy in the instant. The conveyance glided to a halt. The door opened. Hearts that only seconds ago had been pounding chests for freedom were now in suspended animation and inexplicably in mouths agog in anticipation. And then there she was. Serenely climbing down the stepladders (which had been thoughtfully placed out of view of the cameras), she emerged onto the immediately hallowed turf of SSNR [By Appointment to Her Right Royaltiness the Lady Youthfulness].
The appointed Dave stepped forward and humbled himself. An unfortunate occurrence given the magnitude of the occasion. The reserve Dave stepped into the breach. Another unfortunate occurrence! Finally the ‘if all else fails’ Dave came to the rescue.
Bowing so low it made his eyes water he addressed her Supreme Being: “Your Majestyness, if I may be so humbly bold as to..”
Her ladyship interrupted as only one of noble birth can: “Are you a Dimbleby Dave?”
‘If all else fails’ Dave: “Err no?”
Her Exquisiteness: “Then go away.” The nobility of the extended hand flutter in Dave’s direction and immediately he was dispatched as like a game bird on the 1st September.
Her Exquisite Ladyshipness: “My husband and I..” A half turn to the limo revealed a slight glitch. “Oh bother, I must have left him somewhere again. Never mind, I shall continue. Myself and I remember only too vividly the diem horribilis that was last week. But we must move on.”
So saying Her Supremeliness moved on proffering dainty dexterous digits for the gathered ensemble to pucker up their trembling lips to.
Her Regality: “Oh I say what an obnoxious hound.”
Several male voles looked even further ashamed and took several steps back towards oblivion.
Her Lady Regal Exquisiteness: “I was referring to the dog.”
The males voles teetered on the edge of the abyss that is ordinariness. One brave soul remarked: “That is Jock, a rescued dog, he was found in a large, handbag, with handles. He was probably brought up in it.”
Her Lady Ladyness:“ I must confess that I feel somewhat bewildered by what you have just told me. To be born, or at any rate bred in a handbag, whether it have handles or not, seems to me to display a contempt for the ordinary decencies of family life which reminds one of the worst excesses of the French revolution, and I presume you know what that unfortunate movement led to?
The voles shook their heads, a few too vigorously causing them to fall off!
Brave Soul: “ Err yessum your womanliness. We believe he lost his parents and so we’ve adopted him like.”
Her Lady Ladyshipness: “To lose one parent, my good man, may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness.”
Little old lady with straw sticking out from under one arm (One Arm!!!!): He’s only being truthful you’re Omnipotence. He’s very earnest so he is and that’s what makes him so highly regarded by us all. ” Having said all this the little old lady retired to lie down until lunchtime.
Lady Youthfulness: “Well I suppose that’s the importance of being earnest.”
[I bet that’s made Oscar wild!]
Little old lady with straw sticking out from under one arm (One Arm!!!!): “Who’s Oscar?”
So many congratulation to Lady Sue on yet another birthday without a cake big enough to hold all the candles.
No doubt Mr Pitts will shortly be circulating a stunning array of pics so all who weren’t there today will see what the rest of us were up to. Basically following the Squire around, picking up loads of cut reeds (or in a little old lady’s case an odd bunch here and there!); carting them off to be burnt; telling the Squire not to go in the boggy bit; pulling the Squire out of the boggy bit!; showing the Squire were to cut next; sending out explorers to find where the Squire went!; telling the Squire it’s time to stop cutting; retelling the Squire it’s time to stop cutting; telling the local warden to stop telling the Squire to keep cutting!; getting bored of feeding the fire while the mound of cut reeds keeps growing; setting fire to the mound of cut reeds and blaming it on the person furthest away (Colin); eating muffins; eating biscuits (thanks Lillybeth); eating chocolate cake off the ground (thanks Maryla!); eating Jaffa cakes; moaning that there is no pudding!; moaning that Her Ladyship didn’t bring a birthday cake! and generally having fun.
Thanks to everyone who left early and didn’t stay to watch Jock walk across the ash (several times), try to make a ‘nest’ in the hot ash! (he dashed out pretty quick) and finally lie down in the ash!!!
Malcolm.
GST Voles day at Sandy Smith NR 7/3/2017
Mr T.: (rummaging in the back of the land rover).
Okay we haven't had a task in the Wet Fen before so before we start I just need to explain a few things. Firstly as you can see it's very wet here at the entrance so I will not be taking the land rover in. We will have to carry everything in from here. I want four of you strimming the few sparce areas of rushes to the right hand side and one of you mowing a few clearings on the left hand side. The rest of you can help me clear away various metal rubbish in the copse area and then start raking and forking up what's been cut. There are some drag bags here for you. Plus I shall be cutting down a small birch tree which can be cut up and burnt. So I'll need you to take......
Mr. T. turns around to see he is by himself, the voles having walked off into the distance, (well this is SSNR and we always walk off into the distance).
A little later in camp.
Mr. T.: Are you okay to strim *****? (name removed for legal reasons). Just make sure you don't break anything. Are you okay to use the mower ^^^^? (name removed for same reasons). Just make sure you don't break anything.
Right, I just need to go back and get a few things that you lot 'forgot' to bring over with you.
Mr T. returns.
*****: The strimmer's broke.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get the tools to mend it for you.
Mr. T. returns.
^^^^: The mower's broke.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get the tools to mend it for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Anon.: We haven't got any forks.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get them for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Another Anon.: We need drag bags.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get them for you.
Mr. T. returns.
Yet another Anon.: Must be time for a tea break.
Mr. T.: Right, I just need to go back and get my bag.
The voles settle down for a drink and a few cakes.
Anon anon anon.: Who's going to tell Mr. T. he's forgotten the donuts?
Sobbing could be heard in the distance.
Some time later on this long, drawn out morning.
Mr. T.: It's no good, the rushes are too damp to burn, we'll have to drag them into the copse and pile them there.
Mr. T. walks away.
^^^^, (don't worry Clarkie, no one will know it's you), immediately strips to the waist, covers his chest in cow dung, (last week's having dried out and beginning to flake off), turns and spits into the northeast wind. Rubbing the spittle off his face he calls out to Logi, the Norse god of fire. "Hey up lad we could do with a bit of help down here." So saying he sets light to a box of fire lighters and throws them into the smouldering embers. Flames immediately rise into the bright blue sky as the fire worshipper dances a merry jig and begins to feed the flames.
And so to lunch.
Mr. T.: No more cutting now we just need to rake up what's been cut and either burn it or pile it in the copse.
Volunteer Warden (no experience necessary): Nah, we can strim loads more, there's plenty of time.
Mr. T.: No, we need to let the fire burn down before we leave tonight.
Volunteer Warden (no experience attained): Nah, we'll have finished in half an hour.
Two hours later.
Mr. T.: Most people have left, how is the fire?
Volunteer Warden (basically no experience full stop): (kicking mud onto the flames) Nearly out, could have cut loads more. Gets dark quickly these nights doesn't it?
Any resemblance to the truth is purely coincidental and has nothing to do with the perpetrator of Myths and Legends in Bedfordshire, (out of print).
Thank you to everyone who came along and dragged their heels, ankles, toes, etc. in the mud. Special thanks to those who kept pulling Wendy out of the deep bits. Nice to see Maryla back with us for a short while (obviously having to build up to it again).
Malcolm
GST day at Flitton Moor removing Himalayan Balsam 18/7/2017 TL0536
Subject: Next Tuesday's Task
Hi All,
I hope you’ve all stopped itching from the nettle stings on Tuesday!
Next Week’s task will be balsam pulling downstream from Flitton Moor and will be led by Andrew (his last day). The site is accessible from Flitton Moor, so meet at the barn at Flitton Moor at 10am (map attached).
The good news is that there are nowhere near as many nettles as at Sandy Smith but there is plenty of balsam and it’s along steep-sided river/ditch banks and the only way to deal with it will be to get in! Fortunately, the water doesn’t look too deep!
Andrew will bring waders to the task but it might be a good idea if everyone could bring wellies – there might be some areas where wellies might be better than cumbersome waders.
There will also be some brush-cutting.
Regards,
Tim
Hello balsam pullers
A thank you from us to whoever removed the doggy doo doo bag on our behalf. We lost track of it when the bags were moved downstream and then forgot to look for it as we left. It wasn't there when Baz went back for it this evening so we must presume a kindly soul disposed of it on our behalf.
The list of emails above is a bit thin - people certainly on task but we don't have emails for them all, e.g. Barbara & Derek. Please forward to anyone you see is missing from our list.
See you soon
Jane & Baz (irresponsible dog minders)
Hi Jane & Baz & fellow Voles
Lola's bag was there when I came back to get my water/tea.
Anyway what a day, even though the gang finished earlier than usual it was just as well. It was boiling hot and very sticky. You were all a bit smelly too but you were magnificent in victory. I shall not forget Jim's giant leap and wrestle with several big stands of HB across a ditch filled mainly with un-fathomed amounts of ooze covered by a layer of Equisetum (Horsetail) or hearing about Jim's vanishing into another pool where they had to call the RNLI to drag him ashore. Or the happy look on Merv's face relating the joy of submerging into the same primordiall ooze or Dave & others who gallantly waded from Flitton Bridge toend of the track. Then there was Maryla, determined to get her full wack of HB in the 1&1/2 hours available to he, roped on a very steep bank grabbing each plant with a wicked glee, take that you naughty naughty HB you. Well you get my drift, the Voles were down and dirty but unbowed.
A bit of the atmosphere in my snaps at www.flickr.com/photos/pitzys_pyx/
Sadly we had to say farewell to Andrew who has moved on to pastures drier than Flitton Moor.
Take care & see you next week?
JP (Pitzy)
As usual, one BrickLink order from completion; needs two orange minifig hands and a little more orange tubing. Preorder yours here: brickmodelrailroader.com/index.php/product/western-maryla...
East-German postcard by VEB Progress Filmvertrieb, Berlin, no. 117/73, 1973. Retail price: 0,20 M.
Handsome and athletic Daniel Olbrychski (1945) is a Polish actor best known for his leading roles in several Andrzej Wajda films. He also worked with Volker Schlöndorff, Krzysztof Kieślowski, Claude Lelouch and recently played Russian defector and spymaster Vassily Orlov opposite Angelina Jolie in the Hollywood blockbuster Salt (2011).
Daniel Marcel Olbrychski was born in Łowicz, Poland, in 1945 as the son of Franciszka Olbrychski and Klementyny Sołonowicz-Olbrychski. He attended the Gimnazjum i Liceum im. Stefana Batorego in Warsaw. In the years 1963 and 1964, he performed at the Teatr Młodzieżowy TVP (Youth Theatre) under the direction of Andrzeja Konica. He started to attend the Państwowa Wyższa Szkoła Teatralna (Academy of Dramatic Arts in Warsaw), but never finished his studies. In 1964, his film career started at the age of 18 with the war film Ranny w lesie/Wounded in the Forest (Janusz Nasfeter, 1964). A year later, he worked for the first time with director Andrzej Wajda at the Western-style war epic Popioły/The Ashes (Andrzej Wajda, 1965), which was entered into the 1966 Cannes Film Festival. He also appeared in Wajda’s Wszystko na sprzedaż/Everything for Sale (Andrzej Wajda, 1969) with Beata Tyszkiewicz, and the comedy Polowanie na muchy/Hunting Flies (Andrzej Wajda, 1969). He then had the lead in the drama Życie rodzinne/Family Life (Krzysztof Zanussi, 1971). He also starred in the drama Krajobraz po bitwie/Landscape After the Battle (Andrzej Wajda, 1970), the story of a Nazi German concentration camp survivor soon after liberation, residing in a DP camp somewhere in Germany. The film is based on the writings of Holocaust survivor and Polish author Tadeusz Borowski. Olbrychski also starred in the drama Brzezina/The Birch Wood (Andrzej Wajda, 1970), based on a novel by Jarosław Iwaszkiewicz. It was entered into the 7th Moscow International Film Festival, where Andrzej Wajda won the Golden Prize for Direction and Daniel Olbrychski won the award for Best Actor. They also worked together on the German drama Pilatus und andere - Ein Film für Karfreitag/Pilate and Others (Andrzej Wajda, 1972), based on the 1967 novel The Master and Margarita by the Soviet writer Mikhail Bulgakov. Then followed Wesele/The Wedding (Andrzej Wajda, 1972), an adaptation of a play by Stanisław Wyspiański which Wajda also directed for the theatre. Wesele describes the perils of the national drive toward self-determination after the Polish uprisings of November 1830 and January 1863, the result of the Partitions of Poland. Ziemia Obiecana/The Promised Land (Andrzej Wajda, 1975) is a drama based on a novel by Władysław Reymont. Set in the industrial city of Łódź, The Promised Land tells the story of a Pole, a German, and a Jew struggling to build a factory in the raw world of 19th-century capitalism. Very popular was the Polish-Soviet historical drama Potop/The Deluge (Jerzy Hoffman, 1974) , based on the 1886 novel by Henryk Sienkiewicz. It was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film at the 47th Academy Awards, but lost to Amarcord (Federico Fellini, 1973). The film is the third most popular in the history of Polish cinema, with some 28 million tickets sold in Poland and 30.5 million in the Soviet Union. Olbrychski also starred in Panny z Wilka/The Maids of Wilko (Andrzej Wajda, 1979), which was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film. Daniel Olbruchski then played one of the leads in Volker Schlöndorff's masterpiece Die Blechtrommel/The Tin Drum (1979) based on Günter Grass's novel. The Tin Drum was one of the most financially successful German films of the 1970s. It won the 1979 Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film and was jointly awarded the 1979 Palme d'Or at the 1979 Cannes Film Festival, along with Apocalypse Now (Francis Ford Coppola, 1979).
IMDb describes Daniel Olbrychski as a ‘hot-tempered patriot’, who would enjoy horseback riding on town centre squares. Another amusing anecdote is that once a picture of Olbrychski as an SS-man was displayed in a contemporary art exhibition. As soon as he knew this, he went armed with a sabre and with a TV news crew to the exhibition room, where he cut down his portrait, ending its existence. In the 1980s, he gradually switched from leads to supporting roles. He appeared in the popular French musical epic Les Uns et les Autres/Bolero: Dance of Life (Claude Lelouch, 1981). Other West-European films include La Truite/The Trout (Joseph Losey, 1982), starring Isabelle Huppert, Eine Liebe in Deutschland/A Love in Germany (Andrzej Wajda, 1983) with Hanna Schygulla, and Die Geduld der Rosa Luxemburg/Rosa Luxemburg (Margarethe von Trotta, 1986) featuring Barbara Sukowa. Rosa Luxemburg received the German Film Award (Bundesfilmpreis) as best feature film. In 1986, Olbrychski received the French L'Ordre national de la Légion d'honneur (Legion of Honour). In Italy, he made the drama Mosca addio/Farewell Moscow (Mauro Bolognini, 1987) based on the life of Russian Jew Ida Nudel. For this film, Liv Ullmann was awarded a David di Donatello for Best Actress. He then had his American debut in The Unbearable Lightness of Being (Philip Kaufman, 1988), the successful film adaptation of the novel by Milan Kundera starring Daniel Day-Lewis. He also appeared in the third of the ten episodes in Krzysztof Kieślowski's classic Polish TV series Dekalog/The Decalogue (1988). His films during the 1990s were less prominent. He had a part in the Polish historical drama Ogniem i Mieczem/With Fire and Sword (Jerzy Hoffman, 1999), based on a novel by Henryk Sienkiewicz and starring ‘Bond girl’ Izabella Scorupco. At the time of its filming, it was the most expensive Polish film ever made. Olbrychski and Wajda reunited for Pan Tadeusz/Pan Tadeusz: The Last Foray in Lithuania (Andrzej Wajda, 1999), based on the epic poem by Polish poet, writer and philosopher Adam Mickiewicz, and for the comedy Zemsta/The Revenge (Andrzej Wajda, 2002), an adaptation of a popular stage farce of Aleksander Fredro with director Roman Polanski in the lead role. In 2007, Olbrychski received the Stanislavsky Award at the 29th Moscow International Film Festival for his outstanding achievement in the career of acting and devotion to the principles of Stanislavsky's school. His part was remarkable as the sinister Russian defector who accused Angelina Jolie of being a Russian spy in the American action thriller Salt (Philip Noyce, 2010). Since then he appeared in the German film Wintertochter (Johannes Schmid, 2011), the Polish historical film Bitwa warszawska 1920/Battle of Warsaw 1920 (Jerzy Hoffman, 2011) and in the Russian production Legenda No. 17/ Legend No. 17 (Nikolay Lebedev, 2013), a biopic of Russian ice hockey legend Valeri Kharlamov (played by Danila Kozlovsky). Daniel Olbrychski married three times. His first wife was Monika Dzienisiewicz-Olbrychska (1967-1977), with whom he has a son, actor Rafał Olbrychski (1971). His second wife was Zuzanna Lapicka (1978-1988), with whom he has a daughter, Weronika (1982). Since 2003, he has been married to Krystyna Demska. He is also the father of Viktor Sukowa, who was born into a relationship with German actress Barbara Sukowa. In the mid-1970s, he had a 3-year relationship with singer Maryla Rodowicz.
Sources: Sandra Brennan (AllMovie), Film Polski (Polish), Wikipedia (English and Polish) and IMDb.
Russian postcard, no. 4215, 1975.
Handsome and athletic Daniel Olbrychski (1945) is a Polish actor best known for his leading roles in several Andrzej Wajda films. He also worked with Volker Schlöndorff, Krzysztof Kieślowski, Claude Lelouch and recently played Russian defector and spymaster Vassily Orlov opposite Angelina Jolie in the Hollywood blockbuster Salt (2011).
Daniel Marcel Olbrychski was born in Łowicz, Poland, in 1945 as the son of Franciszka Olbrychski and Klementyny Sołonowicz-Olbrychski. He attended the Gimnazjum i Liceum im. Stefana Batorego in Warsaw. In the years 1963 and 1964, he performed at the Teatr Młodzieżowy TVP (Youth Theatre) under the direction of Andrzeja Konica. He started to attend the Państwowa Wyższa Szkoła Teatralna (Academy of Dramatic Arts in Warsaw), but never finished his studies. In 1964, his film career started at the age of 18 with the war film Ranny w lesie/Wounded in the Forest (Janusz Nasfeter, 1964). A year later, he worked for the first time with director Andrzej Wajda at the Western-style war epic Popioły/The Ashes (Andrzej Wajda, 1965), which was entered into the 1966 Cannes Film Festival. He also appeared in Wajda’s Wszystko na sprzedaż/Everything for Sale (Andrzej Wajda, 1969) with Beata Tyszkiewicz, and the comedy Polowanie na muchy/Hunting Flies (Andrzej Wajda, 1969). He then had the lead in the drama Życie rodzinne/Family Life (Krzysztof Zanussi, 1971). He also starred in the drama Krajobraz po bitwie/Landscape After the Battle (Andrzej Wajda, 1970), the story of a Nazi German concentration camp survivor soon after liberation, residing in a DP camp somewhere in Germany. The film is based on the writings of Holocaust survivor and Polish author Tadeusz Borowski. Olbrychski also starred in the drama Brzezina/The Birch Wood (Andrzej Wajda, 1970), based on a novel by Jarosław Iwaszkiewicz. It was entered into the 7th Moscow International Film Festival, where Andrzej Wajda won the Golden Prize for Direction and Daniel Olbrychski won the award for Best Actor. They also worked together on the German drama Pilatus und andere - Ein Film für Karfreitag/Pilate and Others (Andrzej Wajda, 1972), based on the 1967 novel The Master and Margarita by the Soviet writer Mikhail Bulgakov. Then followed Wesele/The Wedding (Andrzej Wajda, 1972), an adaptation of a play by Stanisław Wyspiański which Wajda also directed for the theatre. Wesele describes the perils of the national drive toward self-determination after the Polish uprisings of November 1830 and January 1863, the result of the Partitions of Poland. Ziemia Obiecana/The Promised Land (Andrzej Wajda, 1975) is a drama based on a novel by Władysław Reymont. Set in the industrial city of Łódź, The Promised Land tells the story of a Pole, a German, and a Jew struggling to build a factory in the raw world of 19th-century capitalism. Very popular was the Polish-Soviet historical drama Potop/The Deluge (Jerzy Hoffman, 1974) , based on the 1886 novel by Henryk Sienkiewicz. It was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film at the 47th Academy Awards, but lost to Amarcord (Federico Fellini, 1973). The film is the third most popular in the history of Polish cinema, with some 28 million tickets sold in Poland and 30.5 million in the Soviet Union. Olbrychski also starred in Panny z Wilka/The Maids of Wilko (Andrzej Wajda, 1979), which was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film. Daniel Olbruchski then played one of the leads in Volker Schlöndorff's masterpiece Die Blechtrommel/The Tin Drum (1979) based on Günter Grass's novel. The Tin Drum was one of the most financially successful German films of the 1970s. It won the 1979 Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film and was jointly awarded the 1979 Palme d'Or at the 1979 Cannes Film Festival, along with Apocalypse Now (Francis Ford Coppola, 1979).
IMDb describes Daniel Olbrychski as a ‘hot-tempered patriot’, who would enjoy horseback riding on town centre squares. Another amusing anecdote is that once a picture of Olbrychski as an SS-man was displayed in a contemporary art exhibition. As soon as he knew this, he went armed with a sabre and with a TV news crew to the exhibition room, where he cut down his portrait, ending its existence. In the 1980s, he gradually switched from leads to supporting roles. He appeared in the popular French musical epic Les Uns et les Autres/Bolero: Dance of Life (Claude Lelouch, 1981). Other West-European films include La Truite/The Trout (Joseph Losey, 1982), starring Isabelle Huppert, Eine Liebe in Deutschland/A Love in Germany (Andrzej Wajda, 1983) with Hanna Schygulla, and Die Geduld der Rosa Luxemburg/Rosa Luxemburg (Margarethe von Trotta, 1986) featuring Barbara Sukowa. Rosa Luxemburg received the German Film Award (Bundesfilmpreis) as best feature film. In 1986, Olbrychski received the French L'Ordre national de la Légion d'honneur (Legion of Honour). In Italy, he made the drama Mosca addio/Farewell Moscow (Mauro Bolognini, 1987) based on the life of Russian Jew Ida Nudel. For this film, Liv Ullmann was awarded a David di Donatello for Best Actress. He then had his American debut in The Unbearable Lightness of Being (Philip Kaufman, 1988), the successful film adaptation of the novel by Milan Kundera starring Daniel Day-Lewis. He also appeared in the third of the ten episodes in Krzysztof Kieślowski's classic Polish TV series Dekalog/The Decalogue (1988). His films during the 1990s were less prominent. He had a part in the Polish historical drama Ogniem i Mieczem/With Fire and Sword (Jerzy Hoffman, 1999), based on a novel by Henryk Sienkiewicz and starring ‘Bond girl’ Izabella Scorupco. At the time of its filming, it was the most expensive Polish film ever made. Olbrychski and Wajda reunited for Pan Tadeusz/Pan Tadeusz: The Last Foray in Lithuania (Andrzej Wajda, 1999), based on the epic poem by Polish poet, writer and philosopher Adam Mickiewicz, and for the comedy Zemsta/The Revenge (Andrzej Wajda, 2002), an adaptation of a popular stage farce of Aleksander Fredro with director Roman Polanski in the lead role. In 2007, Olbrychski received the Stanislavsky Award at the 29th Moscow International Film Festival for his outstanding achievement in the career of acting and devotion to the principles of Stanislavsky's school. His part was remarkable as the sinister Russian defector who accused Angelina Jolie of being a Russian spy in the American action thriller Salt (Philip Noyce, 2010). Since then he appeared in the German film Wintertochter (Johannes Schmid, 2011), the Polish historical film Bitwa warszawska 1920/Battle of Warsaw 1920 (Jerzy Hoffman, 2011) and in the Russian production Legenda No. 17/ Legend No. 17 (Nikolay Lebedev, 2013), a biopic of Russian ice hockey legend Valeri Kharlamov (played by Danila Kozlovsky). Daniel Olbrychski married three times. His first wife was Monika Dzienisiewicz-Olbrychska (1967-1977), with whom he has a son, actor Rafał Olbrychski (1971). His second wife was Zuzanna Lapicka (1978-1988), with whom he has a daughter, Weronika (1982). Since 2003, he has been married to Krystyna Demska. He is also the father of Viktor Sukowa, who was born into a relationship with German actress Barbara Sukowa. In the mid-1970s, he had a 3-year relationship with singer Maryla Rodowicz.
Sources: Sandra Brennan (AllMovie), Film Polski (Polish), Wikipedia (English and Polish) and IMDb.
And, please check out our blog European Film Star Postcards.