Saturday, 30 April 2022


Joining in with Rochelle Wisoff-Fields Friday Fictioneers

The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.

Photo credit:  Ted Strutz

Coffee, coffee, coffee

I want tea, tea, tea

Can’t stand the bitter taste

Of beans roasted

And the smell, just awful

The noise of the machines

Whining and groaning like sirens

Screeching their alarm with steam


Please go back to the genteel art

Of drinking tea that calms my heart

A pot or two a day

Keeps the doctor away

Or so I believe

I certainly feel relief


Coffee addicts queue down the streets

Before they meet and greet

Friends or business colleagues

To kick start their day

While on their way

Commuting or studying

Give your step a spring




Thursday, 21 April 2022



The music theme continues this month April 2022 giving us 

A Hard Rain's Gonna Fall 
Bob Dylan 

Glastonbury CND Festival

 It wasn’t the summer of love per se.  It was summer and I was in love. 


A music festival. 

A four-day weekend – travel on Friday, return on Monday. Work on Tuesday. 

Such a long journey straight across England, it seemed to take all day although the men said it would be four hours, they didn’t count on breaks, traffic jams and kids needing breaks.

                              Image taken from Google images

I didn’t really follow protests, demonstrations, politics etc but in my limited knowledge CND, Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament, was a pretty frightening aspect of life in the early 1980’s. 

We didn’t have much money but with another couple (and their two young kids, one a babe-in-arms) we hired a camper van and drove to Glastonbury in Somerset.  The two men took turns in driving and us girls and the kids were in the back on hard bench seats, no seat belts, thrown from side to side, especially when the friend took over the driving.  I’d never realised before that some people weren’t very good drivers – my chap was an excellent driver but Paul, well that was another story. 

As we approached the farm, stopped by police checks, my heart was in my throat as I knew there were illegal substances aboard – not for me – honest, well maybe I would indulge being away from home but I didn’t really like it.  Luckily, I think having the kids with us helped us get through that bit and we followed the directions.

We parked on the slope of a hill.  A good vantage point we thought, we could see the stage with its CND banner and logo over it and congratulated ourselves we had parked in a pretty good spot. 

So na├»ve. 

As the campground filled up, colourful tents were pitched, painted vans of all sorts and sizes parked haphazardly in front of us, to the side of us and behind us.  It was just a sea of chaos and cacophony.  Places were marked around your site with flags and banners and anything else you didn’t mind if it was ‘borrowed’ while you were out of the van/tent or just asleep. 


                                Image taken from Google images

It was certainly an experience and quite eye-opening for an innocent 26-year-old, sheltered girl originally from a small village who moved to a small town.

Facilities were basic (toilets – we won’t go there and I only went when desperate, very desperate).  Water was available from various standpipes; you could buy firewood and make your camp fire.  Luckily the van had cooking facilities but we often found we ate at the vendors selling all sorts of foods.  You could get burgers, hot dogs or more lifestyle foods, vegetarian foods, lentils, vegetable curries etc. - vegans hadn’t quite found the market they have these days.

We were very lucky and the weather was hot in the day, a tad chillier in the evening and night time.

The music was LOUD. 

The bands were good and CND were out in full force. 

It seemed to me that a lot of people, although probably agreeing with the cause, were mainly there to enjoy the music and to get drunk or stoned and have a thoroughly good time.

The smells were different, ranging from weed, hashish, alcohol and certainly some stuff I wasn’t sure about.  Having a wander around, people were enjoying bongs, hookahs and various other substances. 

Wood smoke from people’s fires wreathed through the still air, the stars were out and everybody was calm and mellow.

Wandering down towards the pyramid stage, the musky smell of incense and unwashed bodies, as you tried to shoulder past to get nearer the music, luckily my chap was tall and grabbing my hand powered through until we got prime position – well he did but little ol’ me, a foot shorter, struggled to see.  He offered to put me on his shoulders but I didn’t think that would be very comfortable for either of us. 

Returning to the van as the sun began to set, seeing the Tor in the distance, wondering about days of yore, watching my footsteps careful not to tread on prone bodies, flowing skirts or various other items littering the ground, my inaudible sigh of relief as we found our temporary home gave me some comfort.

To be totally honest, I couldn’t wait to be home again and in my own bed!  Such a lack of adventure, a creature who loved her home comforts and although I enjoyed my time away there are certain basic amenities, I found I really didn’t want to do without! 

Looking back on those days life was free and easy even though there were protests and demonstrations and people with the courage of their convictions trying to ban attacks.

Now I go to bed at night, sorry for the plight of war-torn people, displaced people, brave people fighting back against an oppressor. 

I wonder if my grandsons and granddaughters actually think about it at all.

Several of them of are of an age that - should the worst happen - they would be asked or forced to make sure we keep our freedom by freeing others whose freedom is being taken away. 

It is frightening times we live in.

Pandemic over – possibly…….

War – who knows ………..

Nuclear attack – who knows ….

Forty odd years later, people are still protesting, people are still fighting for their lives, people are still scared of the thought of war or even a nuclear attack.

Tag line:

Throwback but nothing changes – hard rain is still falling 40+ years later.





Word count: 909



Thursday, 14 April 2022



The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit.

Photo credit - Dale Rogerson - thank you Dale

Joining in with Friday Fictioneers - here is my 100 word contribution from the above photo prompt.


Grandad would sit in this old wooden chair come rain or shine, snow or wind, his hands resting on his legs, his pipe in his mouth.

I can’t get rid of his chair.  I look out of my window and still see his essence; I imagine him sitting there. I would bring him a cup of tea, ‘thank you, Duck,’ he would say.

He would come in to the warm kitchen on a winter’s day, blow on his hands and stomp his feet. On a hot day summer’s day, he’d mop his brow and say, ‘it’s grand out there, lass.’ 

Friday, 18 February 2022



This year's theme for Write Edit Publish is the Year of Music.  To start us off in February - All You Need is Love

Here is my contribution with apologies for being over the word count.



My darling Walter,

I dreamt of you last night.  Your arms were wrapped around me as we snuggled up in bed, I felt your whiskers gently scrap against my cheek.  I heard your snores as you slept peacefully. My tears dried on my face as I fell asleep.

I reached out for you - but I was alone. 

I reached out in my mind. 

I reached out my love. 

I felt my fingertips tingle. 

I felt a whisper of breath

It was the lightest of touches, a feather brushing against my lips

I know you felt me. 

I count the days until you are home, crossing off the dates on the calendar.

Your loving wife,

Sarah. xxx



My darling Sarah,

My love, my heart.

I only have a few moments.  I wish I had longer. 

I will not have you crying tears for me. 

I hold you tightly in my heart every moment of the day and night.



My dearest Walter,

Every night I hold back my tears.  Every night I open a tiny corner of the blackout curtains peek out, one tiny corner, for one tiny, precious moment and send my love soaring across the sky to wherever you are.  Keep safe my darling.

Your ever-loving wife,

Sarah xxx



My Darling Sarah,

This evening we had time for a hot cooked meal. I feel a bit more human now.  The rumour is we have tonight to recuperate before we start marching again.

Today was a tough day.

My Lieutenant asked me to go through Charlie’s things ready for him to send on.  I steeled myself as I did this last thing for him.   We thought he was going to make it but God obviously had other plans for this young boy.  I remember he told me his dad was so proud when he joined up but his mum was very cross.  Now she has to accept he is gone forever. 

Sarah, you must move to the country.  The coast is not safe anymore.  Stay safe so I can come home to you.

Love you forever and ever.





My darling husband,

We are to be evacuated to a farm at Wells in Somerset.  It seems even further away from you, although I know you are thousands of miles away but if I think it is only a piece of sea separating us then I can cope a bit more.

We are only allowed one suitcase. We don't know how long we will be gone for I will work on the farm, probably in the fields.  I am not afraid of hard work.  I am only afraid of the evil in the world. 

I am so proud of you my darling husband and all the men who risk their lives so that we can live freely but sometimes I do wonder if the price is too high.

Do you think I could write to Charlie’s mum?  Are you allowed to give me her address?

Waiting forever for you to return.

Love you more and more each day.

Sarah xxx


Dear Mrs. Jones,

My deepest sympathies go out to you and your husband at this time.  My husband, Walter, served with your Charlie.  I do hope you don’t mind me writing to you.  I met your lovely lad last summer. He didn’t have enough time to get to Wales to see you and his dad so he came home with Walter on a 24-hour leave.

We chatted and drank some tea.  He talked about you, he showed me a photograph of you, his dad and his two little brothers.  He kept the picture in a pocket next to his heart.   He gave me a lovely cuddle as he left, in his farewell embrace I felt all the love he had for his family which I now pass on to you.

I am working on a farm in Somerset so I think of you working on your farm, doing the same chores as I am, waking up early and retiring early, physically worn out. 

Let’s hope this horrible war is over soon, they say it will be over by Christmas.

My best wishes to you and your family.

Mrs. Sarah Kelly.


Dear Sarah,

Thank you for your kind words.

I cry every night for my boy.

Best wishes

Mrs. Nora Jones.



We regret to inform you

Sergeant Walter Kelly severely wounded.

Receiving treatment at the Royal Free Hospital.


Dear Walter,

I will catch the train tomorrow. 

I will be at the hospital Wednesday. 

I will look after you always.




Dear Sarah,

Do not come.



Dear Walter,

I came all this way to see you.  Why won't you see me? 

I love you with all my heart. 

I have found some lodgings two streets away. 

I will come to the hospital every day until you see me.

Always yours,



Oh, my darling Sarah,

I am not the man I was when you saw me last. 

I can't be the man you married. 

I won't make you look after an invalid for the rest of our life.

I do love you. 

With all my heart.



Darling, darling Walter,

I leave this letter by your bedside. 

I know you can't see it.

I know you can’t pick it up.

I leave it with all my love.

I leave it with you for all eternity.

As a soldier you did your duty.

As a man you honoured your country

As my husband you had to go.

As your wife I understand.

As your wife I wanted you to stay.

My husband

My lover

My friend

My heart breaks

My soul weeps

My mind shrieks

I scream in the night

I scream in the daylight

Why do humans fight?

Who was right?

Yours for always and forever.


A month later

Sara sat at the kitchen table drinking tea, the letter box clanged as an envelope dropped on to the doormat.  Wearily she rose and picked up the missive.  She didn’t recognise the writing, reading her name on the folded piece of paper her emotions engulfed her.

My darling Sarah,

Nurse Jones has kindly offered to write my words to you as the infection has taken hold of my whole body and my hands do not obey my commands.

I have to say goodbye to you, my darling girl, not that I want to but things have taken a turn for the worse.  I am sorry for my harsh words.  I still believe I was right.  You are young and can continue your life.  I want you to be happy.  I want you to find love again. I know you will never forget me and I will always be there watching over you from afar. 

You are the love of my life and now you must find a way forward, give that big heart of yours a chance to love again.  

Goodbye, my love.



Dear Mrs. Kelly, this letter may take some time to get to you but the last words Walter said were, ‘Tell Sarah – all you need is love.’

Yours sincerely,

Nurse Jones

Word count: 1186

Tag line:  an abiding love in times of trouble.




Friday, 10 September 2021

CBWC: Weather


CBWC: Weather

This week our topic is Weather.

The cat ventured out in the snow (not for long)

December mist

Storm clouds brewing

Rain - but of course it's England. 

CFFC: Coat of Many Colors


CFFC: Coat of Many Colors

This week’s CFFC topic is Coat of Many Colors, by singer and songwriters Dolly Parton You will find the lyrics at this link.

Beautiful embroidered table cloth my mother made for me

Rainbow wig from my granddaughters after chemo

Saturday, 4 September 2021


CBWC: Steps – Indoors or Outdoors

This week our topic is Steps – Indoors or Outdoors..

Here are mine: