ROUGH DIAMOND

Posted on Jul 25, 2016 by John Yeo | 1 Comment

A Prompt Response for Flasher Friday

This is my response to a prompt from Our Write Side to their Friday Flasher prompt. A short story in no more than 500 Words using four elements

Place: Paris, France
Character: a coal miner
Object: red and blue markers
Smell: baby powder

Follow this link To comment: Join in and have fun

http://ourwriteside.com/category/prompts/friday-fiction/

ROUGH DIAMOND

by John Yeo

After their parents had died in an automobile accident, the family home was sold, leaving Jean-Pierre and his brother, Francois, homeless.

Both coal miners, they had worked together since leaving school. They shared digs together; Jean-Pierre the elder of the two brothers was in love with Marie, the landlady’s daughter. They planned to get married when they had saved enough money.

The brothers worked in the same pit in Noeux, Northern France. One busy shift, the Foreman, a nasty piece of garbage, who answered to the name of Schotter, had been particularly rough on both brothers, sending them to work the coal face in the most dangerous area of the mine. Jean-Pierre suspected he was also in love with Marie, and bitterly seeking revenge for her spurning him, and his advances.

That memorable day when Jean-Pierre struck the rugged coal face, an unusual round stone came tumbling down between his feet.

“What do you make of this Francois?” Jean-Paul asked his brother. Francois gasped when he saw the stone.

At that precise moment, there was a low rumble that became a slide and the roof collapsed trapping both brothers. Almost buried alive Jean-Pierre was dragged out with two broken legs, no one noticed the egg-shaped stone he clutched tightly in his hand. Francois died, buried alive in the tunnel.

There was an internal investigation, a manager questioned everyone and made copious notes and drawings on a whiteboard using red and blue markers. The conclusion was that Schotter had been negligent by ordering the brothers to work in an unsafe area. He was arrested and jailed for manslaughter.

It took a while to work out what he had found in the depths of the coal mine. Jean-Pierre always carried the rough stone in a pouch.

He made a slow recovery from his injuries, but he was forced to walk with a limp, and forget about his life as a miner. Marie stood by him when they decided to get married and move to Paris. Marie-Celeste was born, and their rented apartment was soon filled with, the gurgles of a newborn baby together with wondrous smells, of baby powder everywhere.

“Marie, we are soon going to move to a new house here in Paris. I have a very valuable item that I have been working on, a lucky relic from my days as a miner.”

After a famous pink diamond was sold on the open market in Paris, for millions. It was a mystery buyer who purchased the diamond from a mystery seller, both sides of the transaction were handled by agents.

Jean Pierre and Marie lived in comfort, financially sound for the rest of their lives.

It was Marie’s idea to visit the old mine, the scene of Francois sad death.

When they came to the site, Jean-Pierre the miner stopped, stunned. Two French Swans were swimming on a lake where the overgrown mine shaft was. Swimming over coals that contained the last remains of his brother.

(496 WORDS)

Friday Flasher

http://ourwriteside.com/friday-flasher-paris-france/

WHISTLE CODE

Posted on Jul 11, 2016 by John Yeo | 7 Comments

A prompt response for ~Inspiration Monday: Whistle Code

http://bekindrewrite.com

Images © Copyright ~ John And Margaret

WHISTLE CODE

by John Yeo

Pinto was a farmer, he grew fruit and vegetables in a fertile valley on the island of Vesta. Hidden among a group of larger islands in the Caribbean Sea, not many visitors arrived to break the monotony of the hard, day-to-day fight for survival. Steep rocky mountains engulfed the island, sheltering fertile valleys, where a hardy people who had lived and survived on the rocky, isolated, island, for centuries, scraped a living by exporting their produce to the mainland.

Communication between neighbouring valleys was almost impossible before the dawn of the electronic age; to drive on the steep, rough and ready roads, from one valley to another could take a whole day.

A whistling language developed over the years, from one valley to another, sharp, long and short, drawn-out whistles, would warn the people of danger or impending changes in the erratic winter weather conditions.

The council of the island decreed that all the island’s children must be taught to communicate by whistling to keep this valuable ancient form of communication going.

Pinto’s eldest son Paulo, resented this but reluctantly did as he was told and absorbed the skills.

Mr. Zen, the whistling schoolteacher would drum the calls of alarm into the children….

“Two long whistles and one short for an urgent request for help. One continuous long drawn out whistle for a helicopter rescue. Three short sharp whistles for a threatening stranger.”

One memorable day, Paulo was working hard in the rock-strewn fields, when he vaguely heard an unusual whistle message from the neighbouring valley. It took a while for the realization that someone was in trouble to sink in, and he was quickly on the radio to the authorities who dispatched two helicopters immediately.

“It looks like someone is lying prone at the bottom of that ravine there!” shouted the pilot to the two paramedics. “The police helicopter is landing on a flat space a mile away, leaving that flat area clear for us!” The helicopter landed to find a young girl in a state of shock, frantically whistling the well-taught distress call.

“Don’t move, just tell us what happened?” enquired one of the medics.

“I came here with my boyfriend, but he tried to rape me: When I resisted he pushed me off the rock above and I landed here. My leg hurts, and I think I have twisted my neck.” the distraught young girl blurted out.

“Lie still now, the police will catch up with him. I will have to take you to the hospital on the mainland, we will just lift you gently on to the stretcher and we will be off.”

The police were informed of the situation by radio, and the other helicopter arrested a suspect, who was later charged with assault.

Paulo was soon commended for his swift response to the distress whistle.

He related the whole thing to Pinto, his Dad, and they both agreed that the whistle code was a very valuable language to pass on, and keep alive.

img_9739-1

http://bekindrewrite.com

DISSONANT SERENITY

Posted on Jul 2, 2016 by John Yeo | 2 Comments

A prompt response for ~Inspiration Monday: Dissonant Serenity

http://bekindrewrite.com

Images © Copyright ~ John And Margaret

DISSONANT SERENITY

By John Yeo

Bertram was so excited! “Today is the day! I have had a message on my PC. Today is definitely the day; my new iPhone is on the way.” Jumping up from the breakfast table, he sat down on the stairs by the front door waiting.

“Calm down Bertie!” Mother was desperately trying to stem the excitement generated by her 14-year-old son’s enthusiasm. “It will be here soon.”

“I can hardly wait Mum, I have learned so much about these cool phones from my friends. I need to keep up with the class.”

At this moment, as if by a prearranged signal, there was a polite knock on the door. Bertram opened the door to see a smiling delivery man with a small box.

“Hello young man, I have a package here for Mrs Saunders, I need a signature, is she here?”

Bertram’s Mother signed for the parcel. Then with an excited, ‘Thanks, Mum!”

Bertram quickly grabbed it and disappeared.

Bertram had soon unwrapped his new phone and with the help of his older brother Trevor, had his new possession set up. he was soon online, relaying his number and email details to all his classmates. Then it was time to visit the Apps store, where he quickly downloaded his favourite social media App and then his favourite games. At his teacher’s suggestion, he also downloaded a rolling news App.

“It is important to keep up with what is going on in the world.”

It was a couple of days later that the iPhone started to play up. The news App somehow got stuck, and would break into whatever Bertram was doing with a headline.

Bertram was checking with his friends on the latest fad when a message popped up.

NEWS FLASH! ~ Gunman kills 21 people in a shopping mall.

Bertram clicked a button, got back his page, and continued to have fun with his phone, he downloaded an App from the games centre to play farming.

NEWS FLASH! ~ Crop failure. Starvation kills thousands in Africa.

“That’s funny, I wonder why that App is popping up with news like that, I will have to get in touch with the mobile phone firm,” Bertram said to his friend Tommy. Grinning with a happy contented smile.

“Yes, that’s not right, ask your Dad, when he gets home he should help you. Who won the football last night? Check that page on the news.” said Tommy

NEWS FLASH! ~ Global Warming is expected to kill millions.

“Funny, I thought I pressed the Sports page button then, Ah! We won 3-0, good result.” Bertram announced grinning serenely.

Tommy, have you seen these cool photo’s I have taken with the camera on my new phone? I like the one of our fireplace in the front room.

NEWS FLASH! Forest fires are out of control in Australia. Hundreds ordered to evacuate their homes. The damage will cost millions!

At that moment Bertram’s Mother came bustling into the room, “Bertie, your tea is ready now, put that phone away and eat before your Dad gets home!”

“Yes Mum, I’ll see you tomorrow Tommy”

“OK, Bye Bertie! I love your new phone.” Tommy said smiling.

Bertram grinned back with a contented serene look of the sheer joy of ownership.

NEWS FLASH! An asteroid is approaching the earth that could wipe out all life on impact!

Bertram’s Father, who had just arrived, looked over his shoulder and asked, “Is that your new phone Bertie?” Very smart, how are you getting on with it?”

Bertram said, “I love it, Dad! Just one problem I keep getting strange messages up from one of the Apps”

“Oh that’s easy son, just dump the inconvenient App. Press that button there and enjoy some uninterrupted surfing.”

There was a click and the news App was deleted, Father and son smiled serenely as the football game began on television.

img_9739-1

http://bekindrewrite.com

INDOCTRINATION

Posted on May 15, 2016 by John Yeo | 3 Comments

This article was written for “QUINTET,” our Parish magazine, requesting submissions on the theme of Culture.

INDOCTRINATION

by John Yeo

Saul awoke with a throbbing headache, amid the noise of tortured screams, and agonised terrifying cries for help. Everywhere was pitch dark, as he became aware of the iron chains that cut into his wrists, he frantically pulled and tugged in a vain attempt to get free.

Then his memory began to relay the events of the past few hours, before he was cruelly beaten over the head, and he had lost consciousness. A ship had approached the shore and as his tribal family began to sing and dance in welcome, a cruel merciless attack began. Many of the elderly and infirm were shot as the invaders began to surround everyone, and force march them to the ship. Saul attempted to protect his infirm Father and was viciously beaten around the head, he was never to see his Father alive again.

After days of darkness and squalor, with a little food thrown and scattered through a trapdoor, a light became visible and the many occupants of this overcrowded hell hole were allowed to emerge. Some weakened and dispirited from the experience. There were a few who never made it, and sadly died during the passage. Saul stumbled up a narrow ladder into daylight, leaving the stench and putrid decaying flesh behind.

The survivors were hosed down naked on the dockside, and dressed in cheap cotton clothing.

“You savage cannibals will now be sold in the slave market and quickly become civilised and put to work!” Announced a stranger in a loud cruel voice, sadly nobody could understand a word he was saying. Everyone was given food and water and soon separated and individually transported to their new homes and places of hard relentless work.

Saul was transported with some other men to a cotton plantation, and integrated with around sixty other slaves. The charge hands were also bonded slaves and they carried out the orders of a white foreman, implicitly, he would come down hard on troublemakers.

Saul was a hard worker, intelligent and quick-witted, he could do little else but immerse himself in the work and begin to adjust to this alien culture he had unwillingly become a part of.

After some months, the slaves were learning the language and a basic form of communication between everyone gradually developed. Saul began to learn the language with the help of Father Leon, a priest, who had been a bonded slave but was now a free man. This man spent his time visiting the workers, wherever he was allowed, offering them comfort, spiritual guidance and help in every way he was able. Saul quickly learned to communicate and to absorb the message of faith that Father Leon prescribed.

One day he asked his friend the Father, “There is a question I would like to ask, if you have an answer for me please.”

“Of course,” replied Father Leon, “Ask away if I can help you I will.”

“Father, Who are the savages? What did they mean by, ’You savage cannibals will now be sold in the slave market and quickly become civilised and put to work!’ I memorised those words, without understanding? How does your culture reconcile the wonderful promise of love and eternal life, with the way we were torn from our homes and lifestyles, and cruelly put to work?” asked Saul.

“These basic cultural rituals are collective activities, ways of reaching desired objectives, and considered as socially essential. They are therefore carried out most of the time for their own sake. These men are a part of a greater whole who have never known anything else but their dominance. Greed is an evil motivator and certainly not condoned by our faith, Saul,” replied Father Leon.

THE PASSIVE STABILITY OF THE PERFECT LOCK

Posted on May 9, 2016 by John Yeo | Leave a comment

Image © Copyright John and Margaret

This is a piece of Flash Fiction based on and inspired by the above photograph

THE PASSIVE STABILITY OF THE PERFECT LOCK

by John Yeo

An amorphous fog was the general state of mind, as far as the future was concerned for Jack, as his life suddenly underwent an incredible change.

The consulting-room in Harley Street, London, was a plush well furnished suite of rooms.

“Good morning Sir! How can I help you?” enquired a tall smartly dressed, pretty young woman, in a soft cultured, reassuring voice.

‘Wow! Thought Jack, she is obviously a well educated secretary, probably a daughter of wealthy Caribbean parents.

“Wwwell!” he stammered awkwardly, “I have an appointment to see Dr Green, my name is Mathews, Jack Mathews.”

“Just a moment Sir. Ah yes! I will let him know you are here. Please take a seat in the waiting room.”

Jack sat down in the luxurious surroundings and took in the incredible array of reading material that was strategically placed on various antique coffee tables. ‘I don’t feel like reading’ he thought. His eyes roamed over the walls, he was soon overwhelmed by the gallery of beautiful paintings displayed.

One particular picture caught his eye. The artist had painted a figure of a man running in abject terror, with his hands covering his face. ‘Obviously based on the famous picture by Edvard Munch,’ he thought. ‘What is that doing here?”

Then incredibly the image changed to a picture of his life before the bonds of his perfect marriage changed everything. He had been running away from life, until Meg became a part of him. Love had been overwhelming and beautiful, a strong relationship developed, marriage had followed a year later. Bonded, never apart, each day sweeter than the last,

Many deliriously happy years later the suspicions began to set in. Many differing tests followed; each one pointing more directly to the terminal diagnosis.

‘I must do something to tempt the Lord of chance to smile on me. The diagnosis will not come as a terrible shock’ he thought as he went over the last few years in his mind.

“Doctor Green will see you now, Mr Mathews.” the secretary smiled as she said these words.

Jack entered the Doctor’s office nervously with a large lump in his throat, his heart was racing.

Then he became aware that the doctor was actually smiling. Jack was taken aback as the Doctor went on to say. “I am pleased to say you are totally clear of the symptoms of the cancer you have displayed and you should be clear of fears for the future. Your marriage is the key to a long and a happy life. Congratulations!”

“There is no cure for this! However can you tell if the perfect lock is secure if you have no keys?” asked Jack

“Love is the cure! The answer will be the happiness in the face that looks back at you from any mirror in the world,” was the reply.

“My secretary will see you on your way out to settle up once and for all. You will require no further appointments.”

Image © Copyright John and Margaret

JOHN PLUMMER ~ A WORKHOUSE TALE

Posted on Feb 27, 2016 by John Yeo | 8 Comments

This is one of the stories I put together on a Creative Writing Day at Gressenhall Farm and Workhouse in Norfolk.

OBJECTS AND INMATES

I concentrated on JOHN PLUMMER, Writing from this brief introduction.

“John Plummer decided he wanted to. Become a tramp when he turned 16 in 1938. The Guardians didn’t want John to do this as he would be dependant on the workhouse system. This would cost taxpayers’ money. They found John a job but he ran away. He was brought back to the workhouse and sent to Wallingford Farm Training School.”

JOHN PLUMMER ~ THE INHALER

by John Yeo

I have been forcibly returned here to take part in a training course at Wallingford Farm Training School.

I was on the road for a while before they caught up with me, at least I will be working in the open air. I couldn’t stand working in that bloody factory any more! I ran away. I have developed this chesty cough now and I have to regularly attend the sickbay. The nurse says I have to use this strange china thing whenever I get clogged up with mucus. Apparently it is filled with hot water and I breathe it in before I go to bed at night or in the morning, before I go to work. I slept rough for the time I was on the road and the Matron thinks that is where I became ill, from the damp and cold. I spoke to the Doctor when he visited last.

“What happened to me?” I asked.

“You are a victim of your own stupidity.” Replied the Doctor.

“Me stupid? Never. At least I got free from the chemicals that were swirling around that factory.”

“You will have to continue to use the inhaler morning and night in future. The fresh air working on the farm will do you good. I will see you again in a month.”

I like working outside but I do have this chesty cough that keeps me awake at night, I have to take the inhaler to bed now. The man in the next bed didn’t wake up today. They took him away and he disappeared. I think he died of TB, someone said it is a curse of the age.

It is my birthday next week. I will be seventeen.

A prompt response for INSPIRATION MONDAY ~ “LOVE AT FIRST FIGHT”

Posted on Feb 27, 2016 by John Yeo | 4 Comments

Image © Copyright John and Margaret

A prompt response for INSPIRATION MONDAY ~ “LOVE AT FIRST FIGHT”
Posted on February 27th 2016 by John Yeo
A prompt response for Inspiration Monday

Inspiration Monday: Love at First Fight

PLAY YOUR CARDS RIGHT

by John Yeo

The ship had sailed away from Southampton on a long voyage to the Caribbean. I have never experienced this type of holiday before, and I was keen to find a way to pass the time during the interminable days at sea.

“I think I would like to learn Bridge,” I said to the Social Hostess, when I went to collect my copy of the morning crossword puzzle and the quiz. “I have never played the game before and it will be a rewarding way to kill some time while we are at sea.”

“That’s a good idea.” Said, Angela the friendly crew member on duty. “Just turn up and introduce yourself. It doesn’t matter if you are an absolute beginner, the Bridge tutor is friendly and you are certain to fit in.”

“Thanks Angela, I will let you know how I get on.”

I was early, for the Bridge session and I made my way outside on deck to sit and do my crossword. This was definitely wistful thinking as I soon became aware of the gusty winds outside on deck. The ship was miles out at sea and the waves were high rolling, and foam topped. The view on all sides of the ship was exactly the same, broiling grey-blue waves on a moving sea reaching out to a far distant horizon. The cloudy sky was broken by a few patches of blue, revealed by the wind-blown clouds racing across. I was astonished at how few seabirds there were, until one of the crew informed me that the birds were usually seen close to the shore.

The only visible thing was a distant spot on the horizon, I asked my new found friend the crew member. “Is that another passenger ship in the distance?”

“No Sir, that is probably a container vessel, on the way to the docks.”

“However can you know what that is from this distance? I asked.

“Ah! We only usually see cargo vessels on this route, if that was another passenger ship the Captain would have informed everyone over the loudspeakers.”

“Thanks for your help.” I said.

“You are welcome!” Was the friendly response“

I made my way to the card-room where I was full of questions. Would I like this mysterious card game? Would I be able to pick the basics up quickly enough to be able to take part in a serious game? The Bridge tutor bustled up to me as soon as I entered, a friendly looking, middle aged lady with piercing brown eyes, looking over a pair of brown plastic spectacles, smiling broadly she said.

“Good Morning, and welcome have you played this game before? I’m Cheryl and this is my husband Bill. What is your name?”

I was overwhelmed with the warmth of this friendly greeting, and as Bill shook my hand, I replied. “I’m John, and No! I am an absolute beginner. I would like to learn the basics to enable me to play when I return home.”

“Of course John, welcome!” Said Bill, “You have come to the right place, luckily we have three people here who are looking for someone to make up a four, let me introduce you to Jen and Lew, and their travelling companion May.”

I shook hands with Lew, a tall portly man, with a bald head and a friendly manner.

Jen responded with a welcoming smile and said, “Sit down, John.” I liked Jen instantly, her dark hair and very brown eyes gave her an open but wary look.

I smiled and nodded as I took a seat at the table, opposite May. “I’m sorry to say that I am a total beginner, I have never played this game before.”

Lew responded and said, “Don’t worry Jen and I have played a little before, but May is learning, you are welcome to join us.”

Cheryl bustled up towards our table and said. “May I suggest that you play men against ladies that will put one absolute beginner, up against another, together with one of the more experienced players?”

I found myself paired up with Lew against Jen and May. Then total card war broke out as the game began. Closely followed and supervised by the two tutors, Cheryl and Bill. I have never experienced a card battle like this before. I found myself getting exasperated looks from Lew as I bidded wrongly and made many amateurish errors. I could see May was getting by, but she was also overcome by the tension of this fight to the finish.

The ladies won hands down, and Lew was rather peeved, I could see it in his demeanour.

I found myself warming to May, her total genuine attitude, her bright blue eyes and blonde hair, and her smiling personality. We arranged to meet later for tea.

Drinking Camomile tea in the cafe and discussing the philosophy of non-verbal communication, we rapidly fell head over heels in love at first fight.

We never played Bridge again!

http://bekindrewrite.com

THE ICE-MAN ARRIVES

Posted on Feb 8, 2016 by John Yeo | 6 Comments

This is a piece of FLASH FICTION based on this photograph that was taken on a holiday we enjoyed some years ago.

THE TOWER OF BABEL

by John Yeo

Pedro was a sculptor, he worked in a medium that was ephemeral, short-lived very hard to control in the fluidity that was its natural state. Pedro was an ice-man, a man who could turn a block of ice into something wonderful. Anything that was requested could be done. Then one day he was asked to produce a magical sculpture on the lines of the biblical description of the Tower of Babel. Pedro got to work and within three hours a stunning work of art replaced the ordinary square block of ice that had confronted him. Pedro stepped back to admire his work before it was taken away to be used as a backdrop and a conversation piece in the showy lounge on a cruise liner.

Life was lived by the passengers of this luxury liner as if there was no tomorrow, every possible novelty or delicate treat was available for the enjoyment of these privileged men and women. The ice sculpture seemed just another object to be admired and then summarily ignored, dismissed from the conscious mind. A decorative novelty that stood in the centre of the lounge and dripped drops of liquid into the tray it was standing on.

Pedro noted the ignorance that his laborious artefact generated and decided to act, he poured a large glass of vodka in the tray. He called a portly passenger to one side and whispered,

“Don’t tell anyone, the ice is not frozen water but frozen vodka, here taste the drips in the tray!”

“Oh! Wow! So it is!” Hey Mabel come and have a look here. A Babble of Booze. The tower is pure frozen vodka.”

Mabel squealed with delight as she dipped her finger in the tray. “Hey everyone! The Tower of Babel is a tower of Booze. Soon crowds gathered to admire this wonderful work of art, and examine the intricate tiny figures as they slowly dripped away.

People were soon taking notice and there was a babble of sounds of admiration, at the intricate carving and the detail that made up the work that was rapidly melting away.

“Is it really frozen vodka?” Asked an elderly gentleman.

“Yes” said Mabel, “Taste the drips in the tray!”

“Hey! What a great idea.” He shouted. “What a brilliant piece of work. Look at the detail in these tiny figures before they melt away! Where is the sculptor who created this? I want to meet him.”

Pedro stepped forward. The elderly gentleman then said to him. “You are a very talented sculptor. I would like you to reproduce this carving in marble. I will pay you very well and employ you to continue to work for me. What do you say?”

Pedro agreed instantly, as the half-melted ice carving was wheeled away to the galley below.

The moral of this icy work of flash fiction, is never let your creativity get ignored.

A walk in the Grounds of Felbrigg Hall

Posted on Jan 31, 2016 by John Yeo | 6 Comments

A WALK AROUND FELBRIGG HALL

by John Yeo

The day started out cool and sunny, during our breakfast we decided to go for a walk together, after some discussion we decided to go to Felbrigg Hall once again. We have visited this National Trust property quite a few times over the years. Shortly after we settled into this windswept corner of North Norfolk, I remember a time when Margaret and I ventured to Felbrigg Hall at about 4.30am, to join a group to listen to the birdsong of the dawn chorus. We were not very lucky that day, very few birds were singing, but many cows were around feeding on the lush grass in the light of the dawn. I remember we were treated to a breakfast of egg and baked beans on toast, served with mugs of steaming hot tea, in the staff kitchen in the hall, before we returned home.

A close up of the South Front of Felbrigg Hall shows the inscription “Gloria Deo in Excelsis” that translates to “Glory to God in the highest,” and may relate to the satisfactory re-establishment of the Wyndhams at Felbrigg Hall.

A few years later, after we were settled in Norfolk, We sung with a church choir in the wonderful St Margaret’s church, that is built in the grounds of Felbrigg Hall, where there is much historical memorabilia relating to the Wyndham family, who purchased the Jacobean Hall from the original Felbrigg family, during the reign of Henry the eighth.
We have attended the annual Chilli festival here twice, and we have enjoyed picnicking in the grounds. We have also visited the interior of the hall and admired the wonderful authentic period furniture and artefacts with beautiful paintings. We are great fans of the walled kitchen garden, where there is an inhabited Dove Cote, and chickens roam freely in the gardens. I am a great admirer of the allotments section in the middle of this garden, and there are two period-style greenhouses, that contain succulents and cacti with many more tender plants and flowers. The surrounding walls are covered by espalier fruit trees, mainly pears and apples, and of course we love the excellent display of seasonal flowers, always on display.
Perhaps a highlight of these visits occurred in the Spring last year, when we visited the farm in Felbrigg hall grounds during the lambing season to watch the new-born lambs, just birthed, unsteadily tottering around in pens attached to the farm. I filmed some of these beautiful creatures taking their first taste of life in this world, with some nice photographs of the farm animals and wild birds around the farm.

We arrived at Felbrigg, to find the Hall and the gardens closed, but the car park was surprisingly full. The answer became clear when we began our walk, a large group of people dressed in warm clothing, with stout walking boots, some carrying walking sticks, approached the car park. We immediately came to the conclusion that this was an organised walking group, returning from a walk. The green fields of the estate stretched out before us, with a large flock of sheep feeding in a group, they seemed to be so close together, Margaret wondered if they were being rounded up by the farmer.

We wandered around the front of this magnificent well preserved mansion and began taking photographs of the building and the surrounding autumnal woodland. We have never visited the Orangery building and we noticed the doors were wide open, but the whole area was fenced off and the gates were locked as it was closed to the public.
We walked on around the back of the house and followed a path through the woods, where we photographed a nice little glade of snowdrops and some interesting trees. The bird life here is prolific and suddenly Margaret pointed to a large Pheasant that dashed for cover across the path in front of us. We continued along the path and I watched some squirrels diving for cover as we approached, there were numerous blackbirds and finches in the trees. We reached the end of the path to find we were fenced in, we retraced our steps and found a gate open leading into the gardens and made our way back to the car park through the gardens. We had walked at least a mile around the grounds and we were ready to return home for a welcome cup of tea and a rest, after an interesting walk.

Daily Prompt on WordPress ~ 4th JANUARY 2016 ~SMOKE-FREE ZONE

Posted on Jan 5, 2016 by John Yeo | 2 Comments

Happy Endings

Smoke-Gets-In-Your-Eyes-Header-Caitlan-Doughty-Canongate-The-Clothesline-960x500

Image from the Net

smoke-gets-in-your-eyes-header-caitlan-doughty-canongate-the-clothesline-960×500.jpg

Happy Endings
Tell us about something you’ve tried to quit. Did you go cold turkey, or for gradual change? Did it stick?

SMOKE-FREE ZONE

by John Yeo

I think this post is a delve into how people have handled their New Year resolutions in the past. For me the most memorable resolution was made some forty years ago when I suddenly decided to give up smoking. I was brought up during an era when almost everyone around you, smoked, even your parents. There was a culture of smoking and smoke-related adverts everywhere you looked. Advertising hoardings, the television and newspapers were full of adverts for different brands of cigarettes and almost everyone you came into contact with, smoked.

I smoked behind the cycle shed with my friends, in other words I was subjected to peer pressure in my early days to go along with the crowd. I didn’t smoke much in those days, just the occasional drag or a small packet of five cigarettes when I could afford it. Cigarettes were considerably cheaper then and pocket money seemed to stretch further.

I continued to smoke for many years,

I was subjected to even more temptation to smoke, when I took up employment as the manager of a newsagents shop that also sold cigarettes. The cigarette company representatives would aggressively push certain brands of cigarettes, and I would receive many free samples of the current brand that they were marketing. The upshot was that I was smoking about 40 cigarettes a day, and I would agree that I was hooked on smoking. I did not have to go without cigarettes at any time as they were always available, I was able to walk downstairs at any time and purchase a packet of cigarettes. I did not even have to go out in the rain to the local shops to purchase cigarettes at that time, they were always available.

Then one memorable day, I decided to kick the habit. I am sure this decision was the result of a continuing advertising campaign that drew attention to the hidden dangers of smoking. My quitting smoking was certainly not an instant switching off and stopping, it was a gradual process that involved many failures, then stopping once again, after finishing that very last cigarette. First I switched to a low tar brand and I smoked on for a while, until one day I realised that the only way to stop smoking, was to stop smoking.

I then had the bright idea to chew sugar-free gum every time I felt like a cigarette. I was continually chewing gum, as I worked my way through the interminable craving for a cigarette. Sometimes I would accidentally chew the inside of my cheeks, actually drawing blood. Slowly but surely the craving for cigarettes disappeared and I continued chewing the gum for a while. I then stopped this rebound habit and I have never smoked again in the last forty years.

My reactions to the stopping of cigarettes were incredible, I found I could savour the taste of food, as my taste-buds began to come back to life again. My breathing became a lot easier as I was no longer continually choking up cigarette smoke, and I have saved a lot of money that would just have gone up in smoke over the years.

Stopping smoking forty years ago was a very good call for me.

Forty years after, I see the many restrictions on buying cigarettes and tobacco, brought in by the government having some effect on the young. Advertising is banned by law, cigarettes are no longer allowed to be displayed on the retailers shelves. Above all, the most impact has been made by increasing the price of cigarettes and tobacco way out of the affordable price range of most young people.

	John Yeo on Spring Flowers
	John Yeo on Just Because
	ladyleemanila on Just Because
	notestowomen on Spring Flowers
	John Yeo on HAPPINESS