chit chat

[Jacksparrow]

Not for the first time, it has to be said, word got around my avian community that I may be trying to make a tally of their presence for the benefit of the RSPB. This kind of blatant infringements of their privacy was not to be tolerated so they went elsewhere. Imagine, if you will, just the sound of the wind howling and the tumbleweed drifting across the deserted plain and little else to trouble the senses then that was my garden during the allotted hour.

[Placido]

... wind howling ... tumbleweed drifting ... deserted plain ...

and was The Ukelele Orchestra playing a certain plaintive air in the background ??

[Jacksparrow]

... wind howling ... tumbleweed drifting ... deserted plain ...

and was The Ukelele Orchestra playing a certain plaintive air in the background ??

frayed knot There was the somewhat less plaintive tone of Mrs. JS saying "are you going to sit there all day staring at the empty garden, cos I can find you some jobs to do?"

[Placido]

I wish you had not told your audience about Mrs. JS, it has ruined the existentialism of the mood. Having read and re-read your original prose and indeed committed it to memory, I must venture that it is redolent of Keats whilst in his Shelley phase in Rome.
The bleak soulless black despair could only be improved by listening to a long ago recording of the entire work on a scratchy 78rpm shellac by Sir John Gielgud. One imagines that somewhere in a bleak soulless despairing black cloud the theatrical knights thespian (who knew Sir John Gielgud as Sir John Gielgud), Sir Ralph Richardson, Sir Laurence Olivier, Sir Alex Ferguson and Sir Lancelot du Lac would understand.
As do we.

[JooMoo]

Yeah, mine too.
There was a flurry of feathers as I was making myself comfortable, then an hour later as I got up, they saw me leave the conservatory and all returned.

[Jacksparrow]

I wish you had not told your audience about Mrs. JS, it has ruined the existentialism of the mood. Having read and re-read your original prose and indeed committed it to memory, I must venture that it is redolent of Keats whilst in his Shelley phase in Rome.
The bleak soulless black despair could only be improved by listening to a long ago recording of the entire work on a scratchy 78rpm shellac by Sir John Gielgud. One imagines that somewhere in a bleak soulless despairing black cloud the theatrical knights thespian (who knew Sir John Gielgud as Sir John Gielgud), Sir Ralph Richardson, Sir Laurence Olivier, Sir Alex Ferguson and Sir Lancelot du Lac would understand.
As do we.

On the way to Pseud's Corner forthwith

[Placido]

P. 94 ........

[Placido]

I thought of Jacksparrow's 'Red Menace' (mentioned - again - under Bikey's "Cottoneaster" topic when I saw episode 1 of the new series on Channel 4, Royal Navy School.
The Midshipman, Chief Petty Officer, whatever, had a mug of possibly rum on his desk emblazoned with the notice: "Daily Floggings Will Continue Until The Crew's Morale Improves" .
Funneeeeeeee.

[Jacksparrow]

HMS Raleigh That where it all began for me but things were bit different back then. For a start the buidings were mostly made of wood( no biker, the ships weren't made of wood too) and everything was more basic than you see it today. I think the recruit training hasn't changed much and having too adapt to a completely new way of life is just as challenging now as it was back then. It has to be said I didn't enjoy training much but I endured it and played the game as I knew a lot better was to come when I passed out and went to a seagoing ship.

[Placido]

More than one looked as though they were "passing out" !!
It was very interesting, I like things like that.