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Date:Jan 15 2014, 10:51 AM
Subject:
RE: A Right Royal Do!
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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.
Wykopki Mirella Sobczyk, Waldemar Kłosiński, Ewa Radwańska, Barbara Warsicka, Maryla Golusik-Tomecka
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
Lime, where the poet Adam Mickiewicz had his encounters with his first love, Maryla Wereszczakówna. Tuhanowicze, Belarus.
For interactive view, click here;
www.fieldofview.com/flickr/?page=photos/ilvic/3717002983/
(Requires Shockwave)
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
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 Maulden Roundhouse Field 27/2/2018 TL0638 & specifically TL069384
Hi All,
Thanks to those who came down to Maulden Heath for the task today - it was certainly a cool one!
Despite the cold we achieved everything that I had hoped to and were able to beat an early retreat once the snow started.
Next week’s task is at Ampthill Park; meet in the West Car Park at 10am.
Thanks,
Tim
Tim Spencer
Countryside Ranger
The Greensand Trust
Hail Tim & Fellow Voles & Supporters
On Tuesday and in light of the weather prognosis I decided to risk yet another "late on parade" reprimand by starting at Maulden Church and enjoy a amble to the Roundhouse field where I found a merry band of Voles cutting Blackthorn regrowth on the path at the NE corner. In the distance I could hear mechanical noise and see wisps of smoke from a nascent bonfire. The Voles had already fully loaded a tarp ready to drag to the fire but I could get no willing helpers to assist me in that job so I sulked off to the other activities and helped Big Jim tidy away from the fence line a big pile of rotting pine trunks so that there was access for the Land Rover fencing team. There were also several newly felled conifers to dismember and clear away to the fire. Away round the rim of the field there were more felled trees of Oak and a Cherry and all through the day through blizzard and sunshine Voles staggered back and fro to the central fire and Jane's small team of stokers.
Obviously it was not just hard graft all day and in addition to the welcome jam and custard donuts we had the delightful jam scones lovingly prepared by Helen's Brownies to fend off the arctic conditions. with our first T Up call.
It was good to have with us our old mate Maryla for the morning and it was good to catch up.
Lunch break arrived just as the sky darkened and the the world resumed blizzard conditions from the gloom and snowflakes appeared an almost hysterical Erika (and Carolyn?) who was having the most fun ever almost cavorting around the bonfire and through snow flakes like something from "The Scottish Play". For some reason E wanted photographic evidence of the Voles madness and I hope we shall see our happy band on a screen near you very soon.
Just as quickly as the blizzard came the sky changed to a bright azure blue decorated with puffy nimbus but having almost finished most of the tasks set for the day orders were given to retreat and so I staggered my way back to Maulden Church past frozen ponds and paths feeling happy but properly exercised by saw, lopper and tarp, hopefully not painfully so.
See you next week and hopefully you will enjoy some of my snaps as usual at www.flickr.com/photos/pitzys_pyx/26651616618/in/datetaken/ and left clicks from there.
JP
Thank you John,
Some cracking photos, showing 4 seasons in a single day.
Also....What a hardy bunch?....drinking tea and eating buns in the snow.
Also raises lots of questions , such as what was our Boss Tim contemplating as he sat alone gazing at the fire, Just how many bananas did Andy have, what was in Mike's bag, What was in Jim's yoghurt[?] pot, and was Dave Clarke frozen to the spot given his position In 3 photos was the same?
We can all look forward to a repeat next Tuesday,
Respect,
Barry.
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
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.
Hi All,
Thanks to those who came down to the task at Sandy Smith yesterday; fortunately the weather was better than I had seen forecast!
It was a good task; it was nice to see so many of the tree we planted last year surviving and also to see more trees planted to reinforce them. The ditching crew also did a good job and Malcolm demonstrated that a little mud and water can go a long way!
There will be NO TASK next week because of Easter. After that normal service will be resumed with the ‘tartan mowing’ task at Maulden Heath on Tuesday 10th April; meet at the Picnic Area at 10am.
Have a nice Easter!
Tim
Tim Spencer
Countryside Ranger
The Greensand Trust
Malcolm J Willis
13:09 (11 minutes ago)
to Andrew, David, Wendy, daveathaynes, David, James, Steve, peter.staffert., Erika, Tim, dewinterann1, bazbreed, colinatkins23, DAVID, hgebler, janebreed, John, me, Maryla, Roger, Ros, grahamyoung1942, Tim.Chamen
So as we gathered together for morning prayers little did we expect the bombshell that was about to shatter our dreams and aspirations. Mr. T. spared nothing in blatantly announcing that we were only to work until lunchtime! This was to get us acclimatised to not working at all next week. Well, the little group of Dave’s cuddled together whimpering, holding hands, their little knees and chins quivering in the wind. Couldn’t we stay just a bit after lunch if we promised to be good and do what we were told. ‘No’ came the stern reply in Mr. T’s eyes. We could tidy up the two tree enclosures, plant another 20 trees, a few of us could play in the mud but then we would have to leave.
So we trudged off to woods. Mr. T’s heart softened a little and he let us form a ‘bucket line’ to take water from the ditch and fill a couple of large plastic Trugs so we could water in the 25 trees we were to plant. So we all got a chance to play in the water.
Three of us went off to clear another ditch of obstructions and see who could get the muddiest while the remainder cleared away the undergrowth that was overgrowing the fences and plant 15 trees in one and the remaining 15 in the other.
And so by lunchtime all 40 trees were planted and it was time to leave. The Moffatt tried to do a runner, taking a hand saw and disappearing along the bank in search of offending tree roots to remove but eventually he was called to heel. Mr. T. finally took pity on us and allowed us to take home a few logs to play with over the Easter break.
Many thanks to all who came, hope you get over the withdrawal symptoms and see you in two weeks time for some tartan mowing - och aye the g’nu.
And yes, Jackie did make me strip off on the patio before putting my clothes in the washing machine and hosing me down!
Malcolm
Admirable summary Mr W and cakes too were more than admirable even though I restrained myself from partaking in the fruit cake. (Mr T's donuts were also highly desirable) Hope you are feeling better and will soon regain your country seat.
It was good to have the great WC back with us again and Dave of the Arctic Lowe back from his Norwegian Saga.
Snaps are at usual place. www.flickr.com/photos/pitzys_pyx/ and start at www.flickr.com/photos/pitzys_pyx/26181942417/ and left click all way to www.flickr.com/photos/pitzys_pyx/40344026944/
See you on 10th April for Tartan Mowing.
Cheers
JP
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 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.
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
Hi All,
Thanks to those who came down to the task at Sandy Smith yesterday; fortunately the weather was better than I had seen forecast!
It was a good task; it was nice to see so many of the tree we planted last year surviving and also to see more trees planted to reinforce them. The ditching crew also did a good job and Malcolm demonstrated that a little mud and water can go a long way!
There will be NO TASK next week because of Easter. After that normal service will be resumed with the ‘tartan mowing’ task at Maulden Heath on Tuesday 10th April; meet at the Picnic Area at 10am.
Have a nice Easter!
Tim
Tim Spencer
Countryside Ranger
The Greensand Trust
Malcolm J Willis
13:09 (11 minutes ago)
to Andrew, David, Wendy, daveathaynes, David, James, Steve, peter.staffert., Erika, Tim, dewinterann1, bazbreed, colinatkins23, DAVID, hgebler, janebreed, John, me, Maryla, Roger, Ros, grahamyoung1942, Tim.Chamen
So as we gathered together for morning prayers little did we expect the bombshell that was about to shatter our dreams and aspirations. Mr. T. spared nothing in blatantly announcing that we were only to work until lunchtime! This was to get us acclimatised to not working at all next week. Well, the little group of Dave’s cuddled together whimpering, holding hands, their little knees and chins quivering in the wind. Couldn’t we stay just a bit after lunch if we promised to be good and do what we were told. ‘No’ came the stern reply in Mr. T’s eyes. We could tidy up the two tree enclosures, plant another 20 trees, a few of us could play in the mud but then we would have to leave.
So we trudged off to woods. Mr. T’s heart softened a little and he let us form a ‘bucket line’ to take water from the ditch and fill a couple of large plastic Trugs so we could water in the 25 trees we were to plant. So we all got a chance to play in the water.
Three of us went off to clear another ditch of obstructions and see who could get the muddiest while the remainder cleared away the undergrowth that was overgrowing the fences and plant 15 trees in one and the remaining 15 in the other.
And so by lunchtime all 40 trees were planted and it was time to leave. The Moffatt tried to do a runner, taking a hand saw and disappearing along the bank in search of offending tree roots to remove but eventually he was called to heel. Mr. T. finally took pity on us and allowed us to take home a few logs to play with over the Easter break.
Many thanks to all who came, hope you get over the withdrawal symptoms and see you in two weeks time for some tartan mowing - och aye the g’nu.
And yes, Jackie did make me strip off on the patio before putting my clothes in the washing machine and hosing me down!
Malcolm
Admirable summary Mr W and cakes too were more than admirable even though I restrained myself from partaking in the fruit cake. (Mr T's donuts were also highly desirable) Hope you are feeling better and will soon regain your country seat.
It was good to have the great WC back with us again and Dave of the Arctic Lowe back from his Norwegian Saga.
Snaps are at usual place. www.flickr.com/photos/pitzys_pyx/ and start at www.flickr.com/photos/pitzys_pyx/26181942417/ and left click all way to www.flickr.com/photos/pitzys_pyx/40344026944/
See you on 10th April for Tartan Mowing.
Cheers
JP
East German starfoto by VEB Progress Film-Verleih, Berlin, no. 26/78. Photo: Linke.
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.
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.
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)
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
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)
A stroll round Sandy Smith Nature Reserve on a cool but mostly bright
and from M Willis Warden Retired
Malcolm Willis
12:37 (44 minutes ago)
to Steve, Jim, Tim, Andrew, Helen, John, Peter, Michael, Barbara, Dave, Dave, daveclarke14, Maryla, Sue, Dave, Jane, me, Barry, Roger, Ros, Hilary, Erika
Talking of being unable to get the staff;
It was the usual hectic day in the operations room of the world renounced centre of conservation of effort known as Greensand Trusses Are Us (however all that sand did make them quite itchy). There was the usual buzz in such a hive of activity. This came from a nest of bumblebees who had found a niche in a disused printer. Everyone had thought it was one of those newfangled fax machines that was warming up. Due to an inert fear of IT everyone was leaving it for someone else to deal with.
The Head of operations known as ‘Shhhh’ had her nose to the grindstone (in this case the grindstone was a desk piled high with yellowing papers, it went with the various complexions of the inhabitants). It may have been due to increasing short sightedness that she required to be so close to the paperwork although having them closed didn’t help.
Her deputy and right hand man was in his usual place which wasn’t unusual - movement unsettled him. For some time now he had been researching spiders, he was intrigued by their webs - yes they were webs of intrigue. He had discovered that by staying very still for a very long time he could become completely enmeshed in his subject. This had led to a new source of income as he could be hired out every hallowe’en and gloom up even the brightest corner.
Head Mistress of educational stuff was also in the process of branching out (a dangerous strategy being situated so close to Chainsaw Happy Chappy who was always on the lookout for a bit of whittling work). Obviously intent on trying her hand at Career Advice she was throwing darts at the school photograph of Even Lower Maudlin Skool. She was eyeballing everyone. Each time she hit a pupil (outer irises didn’t count) she would loudly explain ‘Take that you little bar steward’. Obviously there were plenty of opportunities for jobs in hospitality, although one does feel she should consider other possibilities, such as dumb waiters for instance.
CHC was busy making small pencils for the stationary cupboard - well they don’t usually move unless pushed.
Using his initiative he was doing this by starting with large pencils which had been especially commissioned for this purpose. No flies on CHC - actually they were all caught up in the pyramid of spiders webs at the other end of the office.
Finally there was the ‘Lucy Worsley’ of the office. Forever exploring old documents to prove that fields were not only fields now but had also been fields before and therefore should be classified as FSSI. In this she was in a field of her own.
Disclaimer:
All persons portrayed in this article are completely baseless and should not be approached by members of the public. Any similarity to people you thought you knew is completely based on false memories and deja-you. In such instances you may be liable to taking liberties and subject to liabilities that are beyond the control of the unknown author.
Signified,
ANON and on and on and on.....
BOŁCIENIKI
Obwód: Grodzieński
Rejon: Werenowski (16 km na północny zachód od Werenowa)
Symboliczne upamiętnienie.
Kilkaset metrów od dworu Puttkamerów za stawem w środku niewielkiego lasku zwanego Gaikiem Maryli znajduje się narzutowy głaz z wyrytym krzyżem. Według legendy przy tym kamieniu Maryla Wereszczakówna spotykała się z Adamem Mickiewiczem. W gaju Maryla szukała odosobnienia podczas samotnych spacerów. Przez nią też prawdopodobnie został wyżłobiony na kamieniu znak krzyża symbolizujący jej rozstanie z poetą.
Michał Wołosiewicz, poeta z Bieniakoń poświęcił tej historii kilka wierszy. Oto słowa jednego z nich:
…Raz przyszli dwoje – On i Ona.
Była noc. Ach, co za chwila!
Widzieć te twarze, znać te imiona:
On – Adam, Ona – Maryla.
A potem często tu przychodzili,
Byłeś im jakby łącznikiem –
Na tobie pamięć swą utrwalili,
Znacząc cię rytym krzyżykiem.
Na tobie, kamieniu, Ona siadała
Przywołać uczucia pierwsze.
Ty byłeś świadkiem jak tu czytała
Pisane przez Niego wiersze.
I odżywała Jej miłość od nowa –
On zwiedzał dalekie kraje,
Gdy powtarzała te drogie słowa:
„ Spojrzyj, Marylo, gdzie ciągną się gaje”.
Dlatego nowe już pokolenia
czcząc pamięć tamtej chwili
to właśnie miejsce od Jej imienia
zwą dziś Gaikiem Maryli.
Fot.057. Bołcieniki. Kamień Maryli. Stan z 2011 r.
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)