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FRESH PERSPECTIVES

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MONDAY 1st JUNE 2020

FRESH PERSPECTIVES

   Today we ventured out from our self-imposed lockdown and visited Felbrigg Hall, a National Trust property. The Hall buildings and the lovely walled garden were closed, due to the Coronavirus pandemic. However, the beautiful grounds were open and Margaret prepared a picnic lunch and we made our way to the estate. We had to book and reserve a parking slot online, as the management had limited the number of parking spaces available, to prevent overcrowding.

   We found a lovely spot near the car park, overlooking some panoramic sweeping fields, full of sheep and lambs. There were also cattle in a distant neighbouring field. We set up our chairs and began to enjoy our picnic.

 Margaret spotted a hare dashing through the grass and a couple of pheasants in the distance. There was a continuous cacophony of rooks and crows cawing in a nearby stand of trees and a few wood pigeons visible. Quite a number of other visitors were strolling around, but everyone was keeping their distance from one another and religiously observing the social distancing guidelines.

   After our lunch, we followed a footpath and wandered through the field containing the sheep and took many photographs of the lambs on the way.

  Several people were wandering through this field with well behaved dogs, on leads but the sheep paid no attention.

   We walked to St. Margaret’s church where we stopped to take yet more photographs, the church building was closed. We made our way back to our car where we sat and enjoyed a last cup of tea and admired the view. 

  This was a lovely way to tentatively break the repetitive routine of the last few weeks and start to come out of social isolation.

I had to photograph the notice on the church gates. One cannot allow cattle or sheep to interrupt the church service.

© Witten by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

MARGARET’S BLUE ROSE

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FRIDAY 29th MAY 2020

MARGARET’S BLUE ROSE

These photographs show our beautiful blue tea rose. I bought this rosebush as a present for Margaret 12 years ago and it has rewarded us with a multitude of magnificent blooms, year after year. This is certainly the most successful floral present I have ever bought for her. The blooms get bigger and better as the years go by. The blooms have an extremely delicate perfume, so fresh and enticing to easily intoxicate any passing bees and insects to promote pollination.

   However in my experience, roses are one of the hardest plants to grow in the garden and need a great deal of tender care and protection. In Spring the shrubs need to be pruned and all the dead wooden branches removed and a good measure of rose food needs to be applied around the roots. They need careful, regular examination to detect any attacks by pests, in the shape of greenfly, black fly or aphids. A good quality bug spray needs to be applied at the first sign and regularly throughout the season. Then there is the dreaded rust-like fungal disease that looks unsightly and causes the leaves to discolour and drop off. A regular spraying with a fungal deterrent is the only method I know to counteract this. 

Regular watering in the dry spells is essential to encourage the buds to swell to produce new wonderful blooms. Another measure of rose food should be applied halfway through the Summer.

Sometimes spurs pop out from well down below the bush, I always remove these as they take energy from the bush that could go towards promoting the flowers. Finally at the end of the flowering season, which can last through to the years end, I have to prune the branches right back to prevent wind-rock. The winter wind blows fiercely and rocks the plant, loosening the roots in the soil, causing weakness or in extreme cases, death.

  In my mind looking after my roses is simply a replacement for taking care of small children, keeping the roses fed, watered and protecting them from predators. The reward of my labour is the smile on Margaret’s face when she picks a perfect rose to photograph and view again year after year.

    I took this brief paragraph of the origin of roses from Wikipedia, there is a lot of information, myths and information there.

  ‘Ornamental roses have been cultivated for millennia, with the earliest known cultivation known to date from at least 500 BC in Mediterranean countries, Persia, and China. It is estimated that 30 to 35 thousand rose hybrids and cultivars have been bred and selected for garden use as flowering plants. Most are double-flowered with many or all of the stamens having morphed into additional petals.’

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

NOT HOMELESS, JUST HOUSELESS

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WEDNESDAY 27th MAY 2020

NOT HOMELESS ~ JUST HOUSELESS

by John Yeo

   Saturday night, the stores in the mall put the shutters up for the night. The last shoppers made their way to the exits, joined by the last of the mall staff. The night security staff arrived and manned the CCTV cameras continuously filming the whole of the shopping area. Joe and Pete were night security men who did regular foot patrols outside the mall.
    The Saturday midnight patrol was always eventful, many a time they came across drunks arguing with each other or young lovers canoodling in the rear doorways and entrances to the mall. This Saturday was different, one Joe would remember for the rest of his life. The two men came upon, what looked like a bundle of rags heaped in a shop doorway.
    Pete, a large stocky man with a shaved head, and a tattoo on his right cheek  noticed it first.

       “Hey Joe, look at that! Someone has dumped a heap of rags in the doorway. No, wait, it’s moving, someone is asleep under there. We will have to wake them up, we aren’t allowed to let people sleep on the mall property.”

     “You’re right Pete, I will just shake the bundle with my foot, to get a response!” Then without thinking he kicked the edges of the rags gently. Joe was the shorter of the two men with dark, greasy hair, he was the most aggressive of the two.
    Both men stepped back, extremely wary, as the bundle of rags came to life with a squeal and a thin, unkempt woman, began furiously attacking them with a tatty umbrella.

    “Please leave me alone you ignorant sex-starved animals, I have no money and I am afflicted with an STD, that will infect you instantly.” The lady screamed.

   “Now hold on,” said Pete. “What are you doing here? You can’t sleep here, you should go home and sleep! We are security officers, doing our job. What’s your name?”

    “Mary,” said the lady, now noticeably calmer. “I have tried all the night shelters and hostels, even the Salvation Army hostel is full. I knocked and the duty security man just said.   “Sorry we have a full-house, there are no beds available.”

      Joe said, “You can’t sleep here, it is more than our jobs are worth to allow that!”
    Mary started sobbing uncontrollably. The two men were both taken aback at this turn of events.

       Pete turned to Joe and said, “We may be jobsworths, but we are not made of concrete.” Then he turned to Mary and said, “Come and have a cup of tea with us, we have a storeroom you can use, for tonight!”
      Photographs Mary carried, revealed she was Maria Popova, a famous ballerina who had been missing for weeks. Joe gained her confidence and informed the authorities. It turned out Maria had suffered memory loss, becoming isolated from her family.
  Joe and Pete became her personal security guards, both men were substantially better off for their kindness to a stranger in distress.


Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~All rights reserved

UNITED IN MERCY ~ DIVIDED IN FEAR

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TUESDAY 26th MAY 2020

UNITED IN MERCY ~ DIVIDED IN FEAR

by John Yeo

    My picture today reflects the turbulent sea. I recently became aware of the still prevalent problem of refugees and people- smuggling, that is still happening, in spite of the current pandemic that is raging around the four corners of the globe. I’m sure the last thing that springs to mind when one is frightened and desperately searching for a new life in a new land, is social distancing. These unfortunate travellers are crammed together in small dirty boats, or sealed into the backs of lorries using every inch of available space. Many of these people are caught and escorted back to where they came from. Sadly a high number die on the journey. The hidden,  unknown, almost unthinkable side of this ongoing situation, is the thought of the uncountable number of people who actually get through and melt into the population. The incalculable risk of the spread of Coronavirus by this means is something that can never be included in the Scientific data.

UNITED IN MERCY ~ DIVIDED IN FEAR 

by John Yeo

Many  official vessels from different navies

United in a common cause, 

To stem a very sad tide. 

A tidal wave of unfortunate people.

Fleeing their homelands 

Through fear and persecution.

~

The United forces of the comfortable world, 

Come together to save the lives

Of the refugees from oppression.

Crammed into unsafe vessels 

Preyed on for profit by cheats and thieves.

Led to Death by drowning in cruel rough seas. 

~

Divided by cause, culture and strife,

The refugees from hard pressed lands

Arrive to find salvation in a makeshift camp.

To ask for asylum and begin a new life

The saviours argue the point, 

Divided by the situation of overpopulation.

~

United in mercy and compassion.

They discuss going to war to stem the tide. 

Of hopeless humanity on the cruel rough seas.

Divided by the morality of taking life

To save the lives of the unfortunate few.

The disunited, divided impossible solution.

Can this worldwide situation really be true?   

Copyright © Written by John Yeo  ~ All rights reserved 

AN ELEPHANTINE DILEMMA.

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Photograph © John and Margaret

AN ELEPHANTINE DILEMMA.

by John Yeo

  The two Asian elephants  in this photograph are from Thailand. For the purposes of this blog post I will call them Sava and Sabina, and just in the corner of the photograph little Shaheen can be seen, trying her hardest to get a taste of some of the tender bamboo shoots. It’s obvious though that Sava and Sabina have their trunks firmly in the trough and Shaheen as usual, will just get the leftovers.

 Sava and Sabina are part of a large herd of governing elephants that ruled over all the Thailand elephant population. Indeed Sava has an important job as chief adviser to the President Elephant.

At present all the herd are under strict quarantine rules due to the outbreak of a mysterious, mosquito-borne virus that seems to strike the elephants in the part of the anatomy where their tail protrudes. Sava and Sabina are in danger of total exclusion from the herd as they have broken the rules and wandered off to have fun with some relatives at a distant waterhole. Sava was spotted by some roving Indian Elephants who were on a visit with a circus from Delhi.  All hell broke out among the whole pachyderm population. Sava must be forced to pay for his impudent disregard of the regulations and be sent back into the furthest reaches of exile where he originated. However the President Elephant was a personal friend of Sava and lifted his trunk and trumpeted out, loudly claiming the rest of the world were all mistaken and Sava and Sabina made the journey simply to protect little Shaheen from the dreaded mosquito virus. This whole situation became not just a nationwide example of elephantine hypocrisy but a worldwide reflection of how not to handle a crisis. As one elephant in one area trumpeted his thoughts to another elephant, the Trumpet Major himself, the most powerful elephant in the world declined to trumpet a comment.

 ©  Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

FRIDAY 22nd MAY 2020

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FRIDAY 22 MAY 2020

 

We had a busy day yesterday on the allotment. Having completed preparing our three Bean wigwams, we went on to transplant some Beetroot plants and water some of the existing plants in the beds. Our Rhubarb hasn’t done particularly well this year and a good friend who has a surplus kindly gave us some impressive stalks. Margaret has them in the photograph ready to transport them home. Our friend gave Margaret a good idea for a recipe for a Rhubarb and Strawberry crumble, something we haven’t tried before. Our Strawberries are still in flower and we look to be expecting a good crop around the beginning of June. Hopefully with another donation of Rhubarb stalks we will try it out.

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CLOTHES MAKETH NOT THE MAN

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WEDNESDAY 13th MAY 2020

CLOTHES MAKETH NOT THE MAN 

by John Yeo

  This photograph was taken by Margaret on the allotment today. 

It was quite a windy day and I had dressed for the weather by donning layers. Beneath my padded red check shirt is a warm fleece that covers yet another cotton shirt.

I’m also wearing my favourite gardening hat. I’ve had this old hat for many years now and it’s become something of my allotment trade mark. It serves as protection from the sun and is certainly a good form of shelter from rainfall. A stranger looking at this photograph may see a scruffy working man or perhaps a traveller in search of somewhere to park the van.

 Looking at this picture through my eyes set me thinking of the way others see us. We all have ways of dressing that portray different images for different occasions.

For example when we are following a dress code, a formal outfit would look really out of place on the allotment asparagus beds. The old adage; ‘Never judge a book by its cover,’ makes a lot of sense when the story has many levels and many different situations that could serve as a picture to adorn the cover.

   Looking at the photograph again, it’s the surroundings that give the biggest clue. Supposing the surroundings were suddenly changed and the gardening clothes were seen out of context. Perhaps if I desperately needed something from town and I walked along the High Street, dressed as above. Shuffling along in my heavy gardening boots with my trusty hat, firmly jammed on my head, I could be summed up as an eccentric local yokel just off a farm, on an errand for the boss. 

  Of course the other side of the argument would be the logic behind wearing uniforms. In a hospital for example uniforms instantly identify the area where one works, or the level of the hierarchy where that job is located.

 Needless to say the well known uniforms of the forces, the police and some of the other emergency services provide instant recognition.

  The well known logic behind wearing school uniforms as a way of equalising the economic backgrounds of the pupils is another case in point.

   Going back to the allotment uniform, I remember a well-to-do lady who wore a tatty, branded Barbour coat, day-in-day-out on her allotment until it nearly fell off her shoulders. Eventually when the smiles got obvious and the grins got broader, our lady went out and bought herself a new coat. Sadly not a Barbour, and with this new look she almost became a different person in the eyes of her fellow allotmenteers.

Love ♥️ and Peace ☮️ to all from John and Margaret

© Written by John Yeo all rights reserved.

THE LAST WISH

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Image courtesy of pixabay.com

I decided to resurrect and improve the following piece of Flash Fiction I wrote last year. A friend was wondering about what would one wish for in the event of miraculously having access to three wishes with no strings attached, within 200 words. I just had to make this interesting, with a little unexpected twist at the end. Word count is the most interesting way I know of slimming down a piece of writing to the bare bones.

THE LAST WISH


by John Yeo

‘Well Roger, your three wishes have almost completely expired Two of them have already been used. You are extremely wealthy and ageless, you will live as long as the world turns around the sun. I understand you have a special request for your third and final desire. What would you like?’

‘Yes Master, I have given much thought to my final request, and I ask for a companion to share eternity with, I will get lonely on my own and I would love a special friend to share my life with.

‘That is possible Roger, do you have anyone in mind?’
‘I want to be with that Angel on the pedestal in the park, I would like a pair of wings just like hers. We could be happily together for eternity.’
‘Are you absolutely sure this is what you wish for, to be with your Angel Roger? I can make this final wish come true for you.’
‘Yes please Master,’
Then with a wave of the magic wand Roger was turned to stone.

(174 WORDS )

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

ELVIS ALMOST ELVIS

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IMG_5712-1ELVIS ALMOST ELVIS

by John Yeo

  We enjoyed a wonderful show for our final night of this festive break at Gunton Hall in Suffolk. We soaked up the music and magic of Elvis Presley, performed by Mark Summers, backed by the Memphis Sons; an excellent tribute band,
Mark Summers, the Elvis Presley, lookalike and sound-alike was magnificent, full of the energy and sophistication required to pull off brilliant renditions of legendary song after legendary song; bringing many pleasant dormant memories to life. The audience were mainly from the age that experienced these massive hits when they were performed by the great man himself.
Mark Summers had his audience waving their arms in the air while singing along to the well-remembered words of these Elvis Presley classics. With the help of an attractive lady backing singer and the brilliant sounds of his backing group, the Memphis Sons. Margaret and I enjoyed this show enormously and we finished the evening dancing pleasurably to the music as this enigmatic singer performed the encores demanded by his smitten audience.

SOPPY

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Field

A REEDSY PROMPT

Write a story based on an experience from your childhood — but have that experience happen to a person or group of people who are nothing like you or your family.

 

SOPPY

 

by John Yeo

   Our boarding school was a large old country house set in 100 acres of the most beautiful wooded grounds. Sadly for the boarders, 99 of these acres were out of bounds unless there was a sporting event in progress. The school boasted two full-sized football pitches, two cricket pitches, tennis courts, both lawn and hard courts, and an outside swimming pool, that was icy cold in the depths of Winter
     When we were playing on our large playing field behind the school, we dug a large pit in the ground and put planks over the top and made ourselves a comfortable little den. We enjoyed our self-provided privacy in our own little world of dirt and worms and grassy comfort.
One day a new pupil arrived from a well-to-do family and needed to be welcomed and looked after.
     Mrs. Simpson, the matron said. “Give Rodney a lovely welcome boys. He is the son of one of the school founders.”

     “Yes Miss:” We all chorused.

Later that day, Rodney Blenkinsop arrived and he was quickly christened, ‘Soppy,’  for short, by one and all in view of his high-brow manners and his total dismissal of all sports as a waste of time.

    After our school day had finished, Tommy Jones piped up and said. “Hey Soppy, come and play with us in our den, you will enjoy the change from your big house.”

   “Oh, of course, I would love to join you. Your ignorance and continual mispronunciation of my name leads me to believe you are an inferior, up to no good idiot, Jones.”

  Tommy was taken aback by this attitude and was about to thump him when Mrs, Simpson appeared.

  We all then made our way to our den in the field. The boys all chuckled loudly when they noticed the total look of horror on the face of Rodney Blenkinsop.

   We all piled underground and waited for the new boy to brave the dirt and mud at the entrance to our secure little den.
The grins suddenly became chuckles…The chuckles became laughter…
The laughter became guffaws then turned to outright glee as everyone realized that Soppy was still outside the den.

  Then suddenly there was a shaking of the timbers on the flimsy roof, then a trembling of the earth around the den as the roof began to collapse.

  Somehow as the main beams began to fall inwards they were stopped in full collapse.

    “Get out quickly, while I keep trying to hold the wood my arms are aching. Quick! Get out now!”

   “That’s Soppy’s voice,” said Henry as everyone dashed for the hole which collapsed immediately the last person escaped. The roof then caved in, taking Soppy with it into the bowels of the earth.
Of course, he was rescued by a passing schoolmaster who had witnessed the whole episode.
Rodney Blenkinsop soon recovered in the school sickbay, none the worse for wear. Just a few cuts and grazes as badges of his courage.
No one ever referred to Rodney as Soppy again, From that day forward, he became something of a school hero.

 

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.