‘The Three Horseshoes’, blog #6

Blog 17/09/2018

Blog #6 and yes it’s part of my # series ‘Caring For a Parent’, only this time I’ve titled the post ‘The Three Horseshoes’, btw if you didn’t already know my mum was on holiday with her friends and for the very first time ever I moved back home to look after Dad blah blah blah lol………….. well as of now she’s returned home refreshed, very happy (with me) and likewise I’m back at my home!

You still with me?

I’d like to add I’m not trying to make a point, convey a message, give advice this blog series is what it is an honest window into my life as many bloggers do………. and yes I have surprised myself because mum left the house with these words ringing in my ears,

“You will be patient won’t you?” which was more an instruction than a question, anyways all went well, no drama and no doubt I’ll be doing this all again which is food for thought.

Where was I?

Oh yes ‘The Three Horseshoes’, now please look at my photographs above, the building’s style lettering and swinging board and you may have correctly deduced this is a traditional English Public House, in other words a hostelry that sell beers spirits, a place where people go to enjoy a drink with friends and have a pint of beer and a ‘good old chin wag’………… put the worlds to rights!

I’ll cut a short story even shorter ’cause perhaps readers are thinking I’m getting carried away with my caring abilities, I’m not, these four days have been a learning exercise I’ve never had children so I could consider myself a virgin carer, anyways returning to my tale!

Several mornings a week my mother walks Dad to the bus stop around the corner, sees him onto a bus heading to the centre of Town and he actually recognises the stop he needs to get off at, then he takes the very short walk to ‘The Three Horseshoes’ by himself. Well I didn’t trust this scenario and didn’t want to be the one to frigging lose him, jeez that wouldn’t have gone down well with the sibling so with this in mind I travelled with Dad finally delivering him safely to the Pub!

Joking apart, once inside the daytime barman says, (along with a few funny lines!)

“Sit down in your usual seat ‘name’ and I’ll bring over your buttered teacake and coffee”, at the same time as taking a £5 note and handing back the change, he’s a wonderful guy in my opinion, mum gets half hour to herself Dad gets a little exercise and a change of scene.

Yes I said wonderful man, this guy doesn’t need to do all this, other barmen may say to themselves ‘this pensioner has memory problems, not my problem to look after him, surely he can visit a pensioner day centre rather than my pub!’ Or am I overplaying his generosity and being disingenuous to most Publicans? Many landlords wouldn’t, in my opinion, and yes to me this small kind service reaffirms my faith in human nature please feel free to comment.

Then half an hour later after coffee and teacake have been consumed Dad is still able to find his correct Town centre bus stop and make his own way home………… incidentally you may be curious to know I’d left the pub earlier and he made his own way home……. ‘phew’ another day gone without a hitch!

To be continued with afterthoughts and conclusions?

A. Shepherdson 2018

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Caring for a Parent, blog #5

‘Fish & Chips’ blog 14/09/2018

I’ve created a little controversy on this blog several posts back, but conversation and debate is good just goes to show words possess great power, a lesson Tony Blair should have heeded when he took us to war………… 45 minutes to Armageddon was a premeditated lie that cost many good lives. (Prosecute as a war criminal?)

Moving on, enough of war.

(These blogs are series of thoughts while my mother is away and I’m looking after Dad.)

Why show photographs of a Fish and Chip restaurant you may ask, well Sunday evening come teatime I gave my father two meal options thus,

“Would you like a ‘Charlie Binghams Cottage Pie’ mum left in the fridge, or ‘Fish and Chips’ from ‘The Codfather’ takeaway restaurant on their estate” I err inquired.

And gleefully smiling Dad answered, wait for it, “Fish and Chips please”.

So dutifully off I trot with my day-sack to that very British institution every UK town possesses, and ours as you can see is called ‘The Codfather’ a rather clever take on ‘The Godfather’ and I have a feeling the lady who owns the shop breaks any number of copyrights! She is yes of Italian descent a lovely woman and fabulous restaurateur and YES you did that read correctly.

The poster below hangs on a wall in her shop, caught my eye, I guess many a customer’s eye!

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Most definitely a restauranteur. 

English ‘Fish and Chips’ is far from easy to cook properly in bulk, in fact I’ve visited many a takeaway where the chips have been cold soggy wet and made from crap potatoes, not her’s this lovely personable lady’s food is severed up golden crispy brown, fish with crunchy batter and cod with the whitest flesh you have seen, consequently customers have to get their early because waiting queues spill out the door into the street……… every evening!

Yes Marlon Brando photos and movie still posters adorn the walls with the added bonus her @25yr old daughter served me, again friendly like her mother (blonde ponies are so becoming) and because the ovens are so hot she wore a low cut green tee shirt exposing an ample cleavage, near spilling out as she leaned forward packing my fish and chips into paper, jeez I gazed straight down when her mother wasn’t looking…………. lol judge me isn’t (appropriate) sexuality the way of the world? Must do wonders for custom from middle aged men! ( 😀 she’s aware)

Anyways enough sexy silliness!

A Pub fact for you, did you know throughout World War 1 an order was past down from the highest echelons of our Government, ordering that’s fleets of trawler-men catch fish as a priority and Fish and Chip shops in towns the length of Britain were to be supplied with cooking oil potatoes and fish, they became a staple hot nutritious meal for land and munitions workers whilst their men fought and died in Northern France.

So the meal should be revered and remembered as a British Institution through and through……….. btw it is 🙂 .

Takeaway meal packed up I payed my £7.50, took them home, plated up and served to a very pleased and happy father, I’m not quite sure if he’s allowed or they have adverse effects when taken with evening medication, 😀 either way I shan’t tell Mum but hey we both enjoyed them.

Then rather heart breaking, after both washing up the dishes he turned to me and solemnly asked a ‘loaded’ question,

“You are staying, you’re not going home are you!?”

Well I’ll be honest and say I’ve heard this said before or similar, you all have, kinda heart breaking because at moments such as these a child realises our lives have turned full circle, by that I mean the parent needs the child rather than the other way round as it was throughout the child’s youth.

We’ve all experienced this, I don’t wish to overplay or symbolize those moments except to say you realise they need you and worry about any possible consequences if you’re not there………….. or probably they just like the company.

To be continued………………

A. Shepherdson 2018

Caring for my father, photo blog #4

Photo blog 16/09/2018

The title Blog #4 will hopefully tell you this post is part of a ‘family/relationship/caring for’ blog series.

My parents own a collie cross who as many of you pet owner’s will agree, has become an integral and important loving member of the family, good company for them both she needs exercising and enjoys reminding no begging/pestering us to take her out for walks, owning a dog is a great form of exercise and companionship however isn’t for everyone? Anyways this afternoon I walked the dog around our lake and Town’s nature reserve and took quite a few autumn scene photographs………… I hope you enjoy.

We are lucky and as I’ve hinted at before the majority of Town’s right across the UK have their own small wildlife sanctuaries with woods and lakes, ideal for dog walkers or family’s with pushchairs and maybe joggers…………. saw a lovely ‘bouncy’ lady in tight leggings and green licra today, the sight of pretty ladies always brightens the day especially if she smiles at you 🙂 !

I would like to add a word of caution to owning pets, yes they can be a focal point and comfort but please don’t go getting one on my say so, everyone’s home circumstances are different both ability to care for and give exercise to, plus the cost of food vet bills etc but 🙂 then you all know that.

Unfortunately in the UK our seasons are most definitely changing, the air temperature has dropped by half from a balmy 30 degrees and leaves on the trees are turning rustic browns and golds, oh and as you’ll see horse chestnut fruit is falling to the ground ready for children to collect and play the English game of ‘conkers’.

Hm when I retire one day I’ll buy myself a Border Collie pup

©A. Shepherdson 2018

Caring for parents blog #3 (A response)

A response blog 16/09/2018 13:20

A lady called Lesley, and I doubt she’ll mind me saying she’s also a blogging Grandmother, replied to Caring for Parents #2, in fact she’s replied to several of my posts. Well short and sweet for now, because I’d like to respond to her comment a little later, I’m going to share with you her thoughts as to said post by repeating her reply below, (come on keep up 😀 ) and if you’ve gleaned anything from my blog you’ll know I LOVE thought provoking comment.

Btw my mother’s on holiday and I’ve moved home to look after my father who has memory problems.

So I’m wondering was my Blog #2 clumsily written, who I am, ageist or a combination of all three? Yes to all three and perhaps a little offensive as well however they’re my thoughts transferred to print at the time, so I’ll quote someone I work with by saying,

“No worries all’s good good”.

My mother gleefully phoned this Sunday morning to check up on how things are going and she’s having a wonderful time dancing and sightseeing with her friends, great and btw the weather’s turned overcast. As to the point behind this post series they’re little more than experiences of caring for my father over 4 days, I’ve provoked one very interesting response so I’m very happy and certainly not seeking approval……………. you get the idea.

Lesley’s enlightening reply, I hope I’m this active also positive when I retire……. oh and with a fulfilling ‘adventurous’ sex life!!

Old people’s homes????? Really??? That is agism, my friend!

I live in a 55 and older condo community and I am NOT old!!! BTW, Those communities are so much more economical than keeping up a giant sized home when the kids have flown the coop and the hubby has passed on. No, I am not in my 70’s like your mom, but even if I were, I still wouldn’t consider myself old. I can tell you that the people I know who are in their late 60’s and early to mid 70’s are living vital, full, exciting lives. Heck, all the rock icons are aging and they aren’t over the hill yet.Just watch Mick Jagger in concert!

I’m retired from teaching and each day when I get up, I have my morning cup of coffee,go onto my laptop or iPad Pro, and check my FB page, my twitter account, my blog, my emails, and jot down ideas for the a new chapter in my novel. Then, I usually write an assessment on one of my social media sites of what our ridiculous excuse for a President has done to destroy democracy and move on from there. Sometimes, I write in my blog, while still lingering over my coffee, and other times I get back to work on my novel and plug forward to finish another couple chapters.
But, I NEVER watch game shows. I hate them. I may watch CNN, MSNBC or something relevant to see what is happening in the world so I know what is going on before I venture out on my errands. But no silly shows. I do confess I have a weakness for Judge Judy and so I record her and watch when I have a chance.

I am very, very sorry your father is having memory problems. That could happen to any one of us, and he is fortunate to have your Mom and you to help him through it. I don’t envy either of you as that can’t be easy. But that doesn’t mean your parents are old. In fact, people in their 70’s are relatively young. My older brother is 72 and he is still very cool. And my younger sister just retired this year and now we get to see each other much more often. We Iive in different cities but speak daily and talk about our Tai chi classes, download new books to read each month and we drive and meet for lunch to discuss them in a book club we belong to.

But seriously? To reduce the interests of middle aged people to Brain numbing fodder???? I don’t think so!!! Notice I said middle aged not old… or elderly. I told my children I can not be referred to as old until I hit my 70’s but I have decided recently that I am raising that age to 80. Today people over 50 are more computer savvy and more vital than ever.

I am involved with political groups and get together online and in person to change the political climate happening in America. I teach poetry in my grand children’s classrooms. I write lessons for the school board and I am in my 60’s. My profile picture on this site was taken about a couple years ago on my laptop so it is pretty current and I don’t think I look or act like an elderly person. (Well, maybe when I have the flu.) What I am trying to say is…. I call myself a “Junior” Senior. I am still vital, important, and able to contribute to society in a positive way and can still change the world. And so can your mom. Do not underestimate women of a certain age.

I am paraphrasing, but Gloria Steinem said something to the effect that “Men become more conservative as they age and women become more adventurous, open minded, and rebellious. Some day the world will be run a bunch of gray haired ladies!”
So my friend, NEVER refer to senior communities as old folks. We love, we laugh, we drink, we dance and we have sex. YES! We still raise hell.

The Peace, Love, and rock and roll generation will never grow old!

Thank you Lesley 🙂 .

A. Shepherdson 2018

Caring for elderly parents, blog #2

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Walking a dog is very rewarding

A real blog, 15/09/2018. 11:07

Well here I am sitting at my parents house, my Mum’s staying in a seafront Hotel in Eastbourne on a dancing holiday with her girlfriends, she’s 73 years young! Holly the doggy collie is sitting by my side (annoyed because she’s hungry) as I tap away at my laptop on the dining room table, and my father is sat in the living watching the television, ‘Bargain Hunt’ to be exact, one of the many daytime TV shows dished up in a schedule dominated by gardening makeovers, game shows and cookery programs.

(Shaking my head in despair lol)

For heavens sake I’ve just watched one where this expert chef ‘cook’ in inverted commas cause I think that’s debatable, shows the viewers how to make Quail curry? WTF………….. daytime TV sucks, and such a great reason for not watching television full stop…………. that’s unfair, let’s say in moderation?

I’m asking you, is this mind numbing brain fodder being served up to residents in old people’s homes up and down the country healthy?………… So sad that intelligent elderly people are placed into these institutions, through no fault of their own and yes I know they receive great care, but I’d guess they have little choice than to watch these shows with chuckling happy presenters and even more excited game players………….. lol ‘Homes Under The Hammer’ is another one, the dictionary definition of light entertainment!

So why am I residing at my parent’s home, and note I’m neither feeling glum resentful or bitter (don’t judge me I’ll return to this theme), no all you really need to be aware of is my father has memory problems, is unable to care for himself and my mother needed a weekend away with her girlfriends so I’m being the dutiful son and moving back home ahh lol…………. no I am most definitely not resentful, she’s having fun and me living with Dad is ok except for crap telly.

Thank the lord for Wi-Fi, the internet takes some tongue lashing and justified criticism but log in and you’ll always find something worthwhile reading, and it’ll lol keep me sane what with reading blogs and keeping up to speed with people’s latest posts oh and watching boxing news videos on YouTube (so funny when Promoters Eddie Hearn and Frank Warren back and forth keep slagging each other off………… viewing life’s not so bad!

Anyways my father’s asked if I’d go down the fish and chip shop for supper…………… to be continued!

©A. Shepherdson 2018

Caring for elderly parents, blog #1

A proper blog, 15/09/2018

You may have read my previous post, the one where I visited a Tiger sanctuary in deepest rural England, well short and sweet after uploading I suddenly had this feeling, ‘do I want to write on WordPress anymore?’

Regular readers will know I’m always very honest, you wanna read lurid tales of me in bed with 60yr old ladies? Look to the right but not tonight.

Do you know looking back, I’ve only just checked and seen last week was exactly 6 months blogging on any platform, a marathon effort AND those lovely people at WP notified me I’d received 1000 Likes, I love Likes, I don’t get many comments but I’ll admit to being a Like whore? But on the other hand perhaps those finishing thoughts had more to do with the Black Dog visiting last week.

So yes 6 months ‘creating’ and well I’m back with a very different post series themed caring for elderly parents, my father to be exact. The point being I have absolutely no idea how these will be received (or how many I write), I’m a positive guy so my thoughts and musings will be positive but as for interesting? Well it’s not a sexy subject is it getting old. Hm perhaps I was a little jaded from posting on average every 3 days for half a year and as blogger’s always tell you ‘this has to be fun or why do it’, then again you don’t know me.

Anyways I have a feeling the TV’s been scrambled by the sound of beeping remote contols so this will be continued………….

©A. Shepherdson 2018

My daytrip to a Heritage Steam Railway…….

….……….. 🤔now there’s a real mouthful ‘Title’ for you ty for being so patient! Being a little more precise and accurate today’s post is more a self taken ‘photo dump’, or in other words sharing pictures ‘snapped’ by me on said daytrip to GWSR’s Heritage steam attraction.

Below these 4 pics are important photos to my tale, they include day ticket to ride the line for the day, the branch map later scanned from the souvenir program and myself holding a coffee mug bought from the station shop! (Now at work).

1/09/2018, a warm sunny Saturday!

Let me begin by saying I’m quite pleased with the strip of photos below, Imagine me precariously hanging out the passenger carriage window (people have lost their heads!) taking 4 photos which when joined together make 1 panoramic scenic shot/view.

 

To be honest how to best approach writing this post has been playing on my mind, let me explain! There are 2 ways of writing about my day which could either be a ‘1000 wordRead More »

Tonight, the best Dental advice I’ve EVER received

Non Fiction
11050289_536944569779158_2711964102297107114_nI have just returned from seeing my dentist and I’m feeling elated, on cloud nine my brain experiencing a legal chemical induced high and I know why. Anxiety consumed my mind as I pushed through the door into Mr Coull’s dental surgery, if that’s correct phrase, he does the examination cleans what little staining there is on the teeth with a jet of high pressure water, gives them a polish then says ,

“They look fine Andrew”, sporting his friendly smile such a charming man, soon followed with,

“I’ll see you in nine months, take care”.

And minutes later I leave his Practice yes feeling near ecstatic. You’ll all understand why visiting a dentist is so damn worrisome, first any work that has to be done is frigging expensive some people can cancel their annual holiday because a bill can be so expensive, secondly any work done is frigging painful, and lastly this is probably just the beginning of treatment because your teeth are on a downward spiral with dentures on the horizon………… yes I’m near orgasmic.

Examination over I walk straight for the supermarket with adrenalin and dopamine altering my mind and how I view the world, so strange it HAS TO be related to a body’s pleasure giving chemicals? Why else can you one minute be feeling utter sh#t then ten minutes later acting like your veins have taken a syringe of heroin? (Hypothetically speaking)

Anyways that’s not the only reason for tonight’s impromptu post. I had been extra worried today because several weeks ago my father, the one suffering memory problems, had Mr Coull extract umpteen teeth and he had a full mouthful!.

So let’s rewind my tale to first sitting in Hamish’s examination reclining chair, now comfortable I asked him,

“You’re my father’s dentist, several weeks ago you took 10 teeth out, does that mean bad teeth are hereditary and the same will happen to me?”

(Forgot to say I bumped into my Mum in the waiting room she’s broken a tooth! £256 for a crown, forgot to ask her how).

Back to my anxious question,

“Are bad teeth hereditary?”

“No Andrew, I cannot say to much because of patient confidentiality, but your father’s problem stems from drinking tea and coffee laced with sugar”.

I knew this of course in fact I’ve known he drank near hot syrup for the last 40 years”

Hamish Coull continued, “The reason is sugary drinks, however sugar isn’t the problem, let me explain, hypothetically if you ate a whole packet of biscuits straight off your mouth would soon recover as saliva neutralises plaque acid and you’d be back to normal.”

Hmm never heard that one before and he’s my dentist I thought to myself, fascinating insight.

He went further and I’m riveted.

“Regarding sugary hot drinks, the problems begin because it takes about half an hour to drink a cup of coffee, you take a mouthful, your mouth is acid filled for a few minutes and just as saliva is about to kick in, do it’s job, you take another sugary mouthful and as a consequence over that half hour your mouth has been filled with sugar and plaque acid for the whole time”.

“That’s why such a person would have ten decayed teeth taken out in one go!”

And there’s MORE bad news!

“I see the problem starting in young children because they’ll buy a tin of coke and then sip. Sip. Sip, and for ten minutes their teeth never recover from a prolonged acid attack!”

(That’s Sugar Free Coke for me from now on!)

Well all I can say is I wanted to share Mr Coull’s advice to my Readers, because tonight is the very first time I’ve heard the basic reason for tooth decay described in one short brilliant analogy by an expert (who my mum has a crush on!) Seems you can eat a whole packet of biscuits and be fine, but sip sugary drinks for half an hour and all your teeth will rot and be expensively painfully extracted.

© A. Shepherdson 2018 

My daytrip to a Heritage Steam Railway, pt1

Apologies for this post being a little late coming, but this draft has taken a great deal of planning………………. the photographs are ALL of the same location, namely my Town’s Station and Goods Yard, alas the track was pulled up sometime ago and the buildings pulled down……. 🙂 that’s called progress, I’ll go on to explain why my home Town regrets the closure decision taken by Dr. Beeching way back in the 1960’s, and remember I’ve tried to keep this post relevant to my daytrip rather than a transport history lesson.

Witney 1
Steam train and passenger carriage stopped at Witney station, a UK branch line that connects with Oxford (unseen in the far off distance)
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Again a train stopped somewhere along the Witney to Oxford branch line

Call this post more of an introduction to last Saturday’s daytrip to the middle England ‘Gloucester Warwickshire Steam Railway‘ Heritage Line, and because that’s a real mouthful I’m NOT going to keep repeating, so for the purposes of this post I’ll use the anacronym GWSR!

Now I’m passionate about all things trains and railways so I’ll try my best to keep my stream of consciousness simple and free from nerdy techno detail, there is in the UK a rather patronising unfair label pinned onto railway enthusiasts called ‘trainspotters’, well I’m lol not a ‘spotter’ but trains capture my imagination.

There you are wouldn’t life be boring if we ALL talked about soccer all day? 

The above two photographs give you a hint as to what became of our Railway branch line….…….. please read on then return to this picture a little later! Btw they’re one and the same bridge.

My home Town used to have a rail line connecting itself with Oxford, yes the famous University city. Built before the turn of the 19th century, progressively over the decades the line fell out of used, then in about 1960 three hypothetical options were on the table as they were for 100 no profitable lines across England, people were buying cars and well society was changing.

These three options faced this loss making Oxford branch line!

1. The Town’s folk to use the railway to commute into Oxford, shop work and play, then commute home again hence making a massive profit for British Rail, the consequence the line remains open.

2. People stop using the railway completely, drive their cars everywhere and all freight switches to lorries on the road, consequently the line is closed as being non profitable, and soon after houses roads and factories are built on the land………. it’s called progress.

3. The non profit Oxford branch line closes because no one uses the trains, however the public form a preservation group, raise the funds to lay new track, buy steam locomotives to haul paying tourists schoolchildren and townsfolk to and from Oxford. The consequence the railway becomes a Heritage branch line and profitable!

(The collage of photos below also appear individually)

My Town chose option…………..…

Witney 34
The Goods Yard, and now this is where the layout kinda gets complicated! The photographer is looking at the Goods Yard which after closure became a Coal Depot. Now for the purposes of my tale, the passenger Station and platform  is directly behind him, this Yard joins the Branch line and if you’re to make any sense of the following photos try and visualise the layout!
Witney 21
I believe this is the very last passenger train to run on our train Line to Oxford, the gentleman in the centre has a camera hanging around his neck, the word special is written on the train and apparently rathe ironically hundreds of Townsfolk came to ride in this funeral procession!
Witney 12
Two locomotive coupled together hauling a passenger train into the main Station, colour but probably taken early 1950’s
Witney 11
A freight diesel locomotive hauling coal coming out of the Goods Yard
Witney 8
Passengers waiting on the platform, the photos in colour, there’s a great many people so possibly this is taken the day the very last passenger train travelled the line.
Witney 7
Looking at lady standing at the Station wearing stylish fashionable clothes, this could be early 50’s?
Witney 6
They Goods Yard yet again!!
Witney 5
The Goods Yard probably 1950’s and still in operation, on the left is tracks and the vehicles are painted red and cream the livery chosen by British Railways before privatisation?
Witney 4
Buildings that used to make up the Goods Yard after closure became a coal depot and now wait for it! Now visit this spot in 2018 and you’ll find Sainsburys supermarket

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I would guess looking at the ladies dresses this photo of a train at Witney station is very old indeed. Late 1800’s?

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(The following 2 photos are taken from my own collection and I paid money for them! Reading the captions, these two very special trains are all set to leave the Goods Yard and join the Oxford Branch Line……….. which as you remember is situated behind the photographer……………. let me ask you a question, have you ever heard of the name Witney Blankets?)

Witney 2
My home Town used to be famous the world over for making woollen blankets, the photo shows wagons loaded with blankets setting out on their journey to Oxford and beyond, alas every blanket mill has disappeared along with the railway.
Witney 3
This isn’t the same train from above, no this locomotive hauling many wagons filled with bails of blankets is possibly earlier than the above train……….. I don’t know but taking a look at the lorry on the left I would say it’s an old one?

……….yes you guessed correct, our Town chose option 2 line closure, the awful consequence being all the above photos are Town’s buildings long gone consigned to history……………. and rubble!

The reason why is simply People stopped using the Oxford Branch line, it stopped making money and passenger trains stopped rolling down the tracks in the late 50’s, soon followed by the last freight hauled train in the 60’s, and yes houses and roads were built on the land. Virtually little is left to show we once had a railway many years ago………. all except these old grainy photographs I’ve in my collection. (Above)

Without wishing to labour a point the Heritage railway GWSR, remember I visited Saturday lol keep up, chose yes option 2, tourists now visit from miles around some flying in from all parts of the globe, all to sedately ride up and down the line pulled by steam trains, and the line makes money……….. hmm, with a little foresight Witney could have done the same!

In my following post I’ll share with you all my taken photographs, a picture post of pure English nostalgia, but before I go I’ll leave you with the final dark episode to my dark foreboding tale.

With vision and insight things could have been so different, my Town could have purchased the land, formed a Heritage Company and carried commuters to and from Oxford, yes life could have been so different, but alas we didn’t and Jeeze aren’t we regretting that lack of insight……. worse still Oxford City Council has ridiculous pipe dreams of building a line and connecting Witney with Oxford because well, the shear volume of traffic on the roads causes daily misery and gridlock! Between 7am and 9am, then 3pm and 6pm traffic is virtually at a walking pace!

The irony is, with a little vision planning and people playing their part by travelling on this Oxford branch line, the line would be open today then all our transport problems would have been solved………. and they say human beings are intelligent? 

The point to this sorry tail? Those same 3 options back in 1960 faced the branch line I visited last Saturday, GWSR chose to stay open and create a Heritage railway, we closed ours and have regretted that depressing decision each and EVERY day.

I hope this hasn’t been dry reading hence I’d planned to write the post as simply and straightforwardly as possible! (I was pushed for a little time as well 🙂 )

A. Shepherdson 2018

 

Update! I am not a man who’s easily beaten

If you read my previous post you’ll know Wednesday I woke up early and left the house after breakfast with the intention of visiting a heritage steam railway, well events conspired against me (long story involving broken down trains) and being as I’m not a man who’s beaten I set out a second time this time travelling by coach (1/4 cheaper than by train) and success I arrived, spent the day riding on steam trains, took lots of photos and as you’ll guess a blog will follow!

GWR Steam Railway Fuji 040
My souvenir mug, 🙂 I’ll use this at work!

(I hope readers are interested they are trains after all 😀 , and give me a day or two to write a post).

A. Shepherdson 2018

‘I bit my Pillow!’ (how my tale began)

Third and final part to my true pickup tale.

Henry Scott Tuke (1858-1929)
I enjoy looking at great paintings and this Cornish Scene by Henry Scott Tuke (1858-1929) looks good on my post bearing in mind my story’s gay theme, btw exhibited at Tate Britain. (Copyright Warwick District Council)

I’m openly honest here on my WordPress, tooo honest sometimes, well I’m hoping you’ll have read my story ‘I bit my Pillow!’ and if you did you’ll remember I said I would let you know which parts are true as happened and which parts are fiction!

‘I bit my Pillow!’, I 😀 agree a bl**dy awful title.

When I said we had gay sex and kissed well that was 100% fiction sorry to disappoint, but as I said yesterday parts are true. So just to be clear the sex is drawn from my imagination………… lol I cannot make you believe me but jeeze I hope you do.

So now you’ve read the tale this is how the episode came about btw in the spirit of fairness and honesty this is an old tale I enjoyed re writing.

Many years ago whilst holidaying by myself in central France, late one summer’s evening I found myself sitting alone inside Le Man’s Railway Station waiting room. The tale of how I came to be there is a rather long and tortuous one just understand I’m feeling desperate, my spoken French is embarrassingly appalling, the Station is emptying about to close for the night and I had absolutely nowhere to sleep that night, my only certainty within minutes the Entrance gates would be locked shut and I was soon to experience how sleeping rough on the Street actually feels…………. a truly spine chilling thought and terribly sad for the people who have no choice!

Then with only minutes to spare a middle aged guy appears as if from nowhere, sits down beside me and strikes up a conversation with this weary disorientated very depressed traveller. I was far from feeling sorry for myself, couldn’t understand him and my tired mind was in the grip of fear and loneliness, he invited me to spend the night in his home and I said yes!

I ask what an earth would you do faced with a night living on the Streets? The possibility of being mugged raped beaten up murdered a possibility, or the comfortable certainty of being driven by a rather polite personable guy to his home? Better still an unknown home where he’d provide you with a warm bed to sleep the night in. What’s more he promised on his life he’d drop me back at Le Man’s Station early next morning!

Lol what a friendly treasure, who could say no?

What a predicament what a dilemma, even if I’d been at my strongest mentally the choice would have been challenging, THAT my mind was frazzled and unable to think straight made the decision easy. But if I’d been consciously aware and thinking straight I would have absolutely figured out he was a gay man with ulterior predatory motives, a guy cruising public places late at night looking for single men to take home and have sex with! If I’d been approached on a railway station platform in Britain I would have politely told the guy to,

“Get blank lost!” (I wouldn’t lol but you get my gist)

But this late French evening I thanked my kind Samaritan and let him drive me to his home, from first meeting him to being whisked across the City into his bedroom seemed a mere blur of five minutes, and to this day I cannot understand whether I was stupidly foolhardy or naïve, qualities that have plagued my adult life. 

So remember the sex in my tale was fiction all I can admit is I must have been frigging tired because to this day I still don’t no why I went to bed with him?…… Honestly the strangest evening of my life, ask me what went on and well the light dial was turned to a warming dim glow…..…..……, I gazed up at a light flex hanging from the ceiling, then got up and slept on his sofa. (We make bad choices in life get carried away suck it up and move on.)

And I felt wretched for months after, despairingly upset is closer to the truth, I understand why people do dread a terrible dark memory seeping into their consciousness, they drain you of all energy and I did lapse into a deep depression, because well I’m straight! Our meeting confused because I consider myself groomed taken advantage of and tricked into bed, and in those months after I’d gaze at myself in the mirror with feelings of shame knowing I had to face the cold hard fact that I was a naïve guy who can be too trusting…………… but hey show me someone who hasn’t made unfortunate choices and I’ll show you a liar!!

So you get the feeling I hated myself? And note my tale is far from sensationalism, all good story’s are prompted by true events.

And what of today? Thinking back all these years later, that I went to bed naked with a naked guy ‘who fancied me’ is deliciously hilarious, the irony now is every time I think back to our night together I cannot help laughing, where’s the sin in admitting I can be tricked when I know I’m straight and omg what a surreal memory and btw I hope you’re thinking to yourselves ‘whatever!’ 😀

I know I know complete madness going home with a guy I’d never met before, even worse when I came out the shower and he’s standing there naked, jeeze he’d lied to me tricked me groomed me and yes I could have been raped or worse it happens………… I wasn’t. I should add I hope you’re not tooo disappointed to read my plump round ass wasn’t lol violated, anyways all said and done my gay French guy tale will go down as the strangest experience of my life……… I only wish I’d been approached by a kind hearted woman with darker motives!

A. Shepherdson 2018 (Just so as you know I had a blast writing these last 3 posts and 😀 I really hope some readers were left disappointed) 

 

 

‘I bit my Pillow!’ (so was it Truth or Fiction?)

Yes I realise ‘I bit my Pillow’ wasn’t the best title to have been penned by an erotic author……………. lol sorry it was the best I could come up with and yes I am happy to say I’m an author (of sorts). Aren’t we all?

No messing. Short and sweet. I’ll get straight to the point and say my tale called ‘I bit my Pillow!’ is fiction HOWEVER DON’T leave my blog quite yet because parts of that tale are true as happened.

(Btw if you are at all concerned, don’t be, my semi true tale is very tame reading but there is a context and I’ll reveal that tomorrow.)

The gay sex, the passionate kissing, the fingers in my ass never ever happened, though for very unique and quite frankly unusual reasons I did go to bed with the Frenchman in my tale, and yes we were both naked both not wearing a stitch of clothing!

So are you relieved? Or disappointed?

Tomorrow I will to tell you why in heavens name I slept with the guy, and how I came to be in his house taking a shower in the first place! It all makes for a fascinating read to myself, but perhaps not interesting enough to share.

(Btw a nature walk with photos follows sooon!)

Should I be admitting all my honesty here? Perhaps not but hey I’m not ashamed of anything and if you wish to read more well tune in tomorrow. 

A. Shepherdson 2018

 

 

‘I bit my Pillow!’ (Erotic)

Remember a tale for adults, all very tame stuff ‘and NSFW.

‘I was tired from traveling bewildered with nowhere to sleep, the choice was stark a park bench for the night or him, so I chose him relieved to be safe at last.’

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gaycomicsboypost.com4I guess an emotional shock heightens sharpens the senses and I remember every detail, he’d taken a chance just as he probably did every evening, he was a lovely guy, a gentleman, he didn’t force himself upon me which I’ll forever be grateful for, I could easily have been raped only to end my days as dismembered body parts in an unknown grave, a missing person never heard of again. Understand he was a nice guy!

Nervously I crept out of his en-suite bathroom wearing only a towel round my waist, clasping clothes bundled in my arms, my comfort blanket, I’d just had a lovely warm and pleasant shower only to be faced by the French guy standing naked a few paces from me. And to say I was startled no shocked is possibly the biggest understatement ever, we’d never spoken simply because my French was non existent and he spoke very little English, call him Gallic relaxed confident, and although nervous and a little fearful I didn’t panic, I’m a good judge of character and he’d been a lovely guy this whole evening.

In fact he’d been a perfect gentleman ever since picking me up at the Station, but beneath my very invigorating hot shower I’d slowly come to my senses, I finally understood he’d been more than very friendly striking up that conversation in the waiting room, he’d been cruising, I’d been picked up! The penny had dropped whilst hot water cascaded down my slim pink body, and I knew as I’d suspected, at long last I was sure he was gay.

Having showered, clutching clothes bundled in my arms I nervously stepped out the shower and walked into his en suite bedroom, omfg there my Frenchman stood like a statue in the doorway, all pink and naked and possibly the biggest fright of my life ‘gulp!’ 

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Caring for elderly parents

This post is what it is, me sharing thoughts with MY WordPress, and I will try my best (as always) to keep these shared thoughts 🙂 positive light and interesting…………. call this one a little more serious than usual. (Any comments would be most welcome).
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Followers who’ve read my family tales of which I know there are several, may have noticed I’ve never written a single word of my father, I don’t wish to start now except to say ours was a strained relationship (my fault?), dad is/was a good man honest hard working kind and generous but looking back on my childhood and years after I feel he let me down. If my mother read this post she’d be very upset but that’s the way I feel, just remember little more went wrong apart from we didn’t get along…….. and as children often do, admitting we’re perhaps more alike one parent than we care to admit…………… or wish to be true can be hard!

But if there’s any blame to be thrown around then please aim toward me.

Not to long ago I wrote a very honest post titled ‘I only have one real regret in my life’, please read if only to perhaps dwell for a second on loved ones in your own life. Remember I’m a good man who made a mistake after I unconsciously absentmindedly carelessly and knowingly forgot to visit my grandfather in his care home, the reason is little more than apathy and thoughtlessness, well I’m determined it’ll never happen again to someone I love.

My mum’s going dancing with her friends in Eastbourne sooon, she’s 70+ and yes goes out dancing once a week with her girlfriends…………. fabulous what a lady 🙂 .

Well I knew for a fact she’d been enquiring Social Services with a view to finding dad respite care (extreme forgetfulness, we fear he didn’t keep his mind alive and active in retirement), I wasn’t annoyed when I found out because that is mum all over, rather than offload problems onto family members she gets stuck in trying to solve a problem herself. She contacted Social Services unaware to me, was prepared to pay and hadn’t told the family. However no luck, healthcare is stretched to breaking point around here and well cutting a short story even shorter, unknown to me she’d been unsuccessful and cancelled her dancing holiday without telling anyone.

I’m not angry only disappointed, there’s been no grumbling no complaining from me, she told her friends she wasn’t going yet she needs the care break.

At the weekend we had a chat over Sunday lunch (my weekly treat), the whole family is aware my father is unable to look after himself SO the upshot to my tale is, I’m taking time off from work and moving back home for four days to look after him on my own. I’m not going to be chief carer under duress mind, there’s neither reluctance annoyance or intransigence, he’s my father he needs caring for okay yes we’ve never been close but there you no one’s to blame, that’s life!

As for my mother on WP, I’ve only ever written with affection fondness (and watchful)because I love her, without becoming sentimental and weepy mum has been my only real true friend as mothers always are, she’s completely selfless caring loving and remembering back to my youth I now see mum pushed me in the right direction and gifted my sibling and I the tools to go out and make something of our lives.

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Photos taken before the factory closed down and yes those are cemetery headstones, btw I looked out the window one summer, jig boring, and there stood this nude model and a photographer! That cemetery is one of the little known wildlife habit jewels in #. (I’m pleased I didn’t witness it being bulldozed because I would have cried)

And here’s a thought, back in the 80s while a ‘fifth former’ at school a teacher handed out application forms on behalf of a local engineering Company, for apprenticeships in trades such as toolmakers pattern-makers mill-rights electricians foundry-men, well I took a form, read it and decided I didn’t want to be an engineer? Goodness knows why but apathy’s me all over, not grasping this was a life changing opportunity, not forgetting I hadn’t a frigging idea as to what I was going to do after leaving school!! Well I showed my father, said I didn’t wish to apply, he didn’t seem to mind either way so I hid the form in a bedroom chest of draws.

End to the matter so I thought.

Next thing I know, the form is laying open on the dining room table and my mum ‘encourages’ me to fill it out with her help, then I guess buys the stamp and posts it……… I didn’t apply under duress, no I hadn’t been intelligent to realise the possibilities an apprenticeship could bring, hiding the application was simple apathy.

(Incidentally the 2/7 cardinal vice I’m afflicted by, the 1/7 being lust…….. jeeze the tales I could tell!! I mean the ones I haven’t already!)

I digress.

Well to cut a long story short the engineering company contacted me for an interview, I sat a rigorous skills examination and ultimately became 1 of 5 successful boys selected from 160 to be apprenticed for in the trade of ‘one of above’……….. yes at first apathy and thoughtlessness (hmm interesting :/ ) but then I got my sh#t together and earned deserved the position.

And I’ll be forever grateful W. # and Co. Ltd. gave me that chance, I’ve never lost sight 155 boys were unsuccessful and perhaps………. no such is life. But just know I wasn’t the reluctant (trade), those four years training were the most enjoyable happiest days of my life, I was paid a modest wage met fantastic lads and taught a trade by 3 very wise knowing skilled trainers who weren’t adverse to giving justified also unjustified discipline. One trainer’s conduct verging on bullying (he did) but there you are, we now live in a mollycoddled society where everyone feels entitled to God knows how many Rights, and if they feel in the slightest bit underappreciated or hard done by the Firm/Company is in Court and they want compensation………….. my take is sh#t happens, life can be unfair, suck it up, learn and move on!

I’m digressing now into a rant.

Oh yes the apprenticeship. I’m neither artistic or academic but I enjoy making things, well lucky for me five days a week I was paid to…………… and loved it! I was an intelligent 16 year old, I kept my mouth shut used humour to deflect criticism, listened wasn’t cocky or loudmouthed, lol I’m no angel just know I worked hard, learnt the Machiavellian skills of a politician to gain favour and keep out of trouble, I was a clever cookie, and by the end of four years the Company employed me full time in the trade of……..…….. I adored the job.

Well in summing up I don’t need to remind you readers it was mum who searched and discovered that hidden application form, she stood over me and helped me fill it out, she bought the stamp and posted though to be fair it was my skills talent and tenacity that got me chosen from 155 other boys, lol give me credit for that much 😀 .

But now all these years later I’m wondering what would I have made of my life if I’d listened to my father and just thrown that form away? What dead end job could I be in now? So now that I’ve given you an insight into my very own parental dynamics, my father was a good loving caring and kind man, but in many ways I feel he let me down. Am I being unfair? (On dad perhaps probably yes?) The upshot I’ll move back home for four days, cook clean care for dad and I know this won’t be the last time……….. I’m not annoyed or angry no my mindset is a positive ‘let’s see how it goes’, I’ll take my laptop and probably read and walk the dog hmm on reflection I’ll enjoy those.

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Yep looked out one day and there stood a naked woman……….. jeeze I wish I’d had my camera!

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A. Shepherdson 2018

 

Life is a matter of Luck and Chance!

I’m not at work. It’s raining outside. So why not write a post?

On any given evening, by the time I’m ready to turn in for bed only one all consuming thought will be on my mind, perhaps I should re phrase, yes I’ll be brooding reflecting on several but only one shocking story will accompany me to sleep.

Brooding

Brooding is the worst, preparing myself for the next days hassles I’ll face at ‘blank’, a ‘blank’ full of his own self importance, his personality traits verging on narcissistic, classic inflated ego traits with delusions of grandeur and a ridiculous misconception that he is attractive to women. Jeeze at age # and chasing after 18yr old Virginal students (🤔 questionable) is sad to the point of creepy we’ll watch open mouthed staggered with,

“Is he serious they suck up to you for one reason so as he’ll complete their…….” we say to ourselves,

Yes they’ll bring broken bikes into be fixed but little do they know he sniffs the saddles soon after they’ve gone, do women have any comprehension this goes on? Does the thought ever cross their mind that men will put a nose to their saddles hoping to smell intimate feminine odours?

I don’t! Never have! Never will!!!

I’m digressing but a fascinating case all the same.

Reflecting

At the end of the day several thoughts will be on my mind, problems I’ll face tomorrow, hassles I’ve encountered that day, family issues that have to be faced up to, my father’s health is a frigging nightmareand the overriding days disaster that’s hit a part of the globe.

If there’s only one certainty in life it’s that one single awful shocking catastrophe has occurred today! Or as in yesterday, being a section of Italian motorway and bridge disappearing taking 39 people’s lives along with it, the longer I live the more I’m convinced life is but a matter of luck and chance. One of the images of that disaster I’ll probably remember will be that stationary truck stopped but meters from the roads end, 2 seconds later and both lorry and driver would be underneath rubble coming to rest in a stream.

Luck and chance!

Jeeze the number of posts I’ve written in draft themed, life is a matter of how lucky we are to avoid something anything, and how a life s direction can change simply by chance, bump into a lady in the supermarket and 3 months later you could be standing alongside her dressed in white, you about to put a ring on her finger.

Luck and chance!

Thoughts of tomorrows problems, family issues, a world disaster will accompany to bed AND one quirky unusual darn right creepy story that’s been on my mind ever since I first heard this sorry tale as I did today.

Shocking

The true story, is true because I trust the BBC never to publish fake news, a young Romanian woman’s account of the day she’d been snatched from the street, bundled into a car and driven to the north of England, locked in a suburban house for nine months and forced to prostitute her body for sex.

Yes she’d been seconds away from entering the front door of her house, the key inside the lock then hours later she was having to endure the hellish existence of men she didn’t want having sex with her. From the time she was captured to the day she’d been rescued this European citizen working in London had been in effect raped by 1000 men……… I guess ghoulishly compounded by the fact every penny had been taken by her captors, yes she’d been fed but their slave had been denied medical attention because she’d bled many times.

That human beings are enslaved in third world countries I’d read about, and accepted as drawback of living in an ‘uncivilized’ country, that a young woman is pulled off a busy London street and driven to a house for men’s depraved sexual  pleasure was honestly shocking, one because Britain is a prosperous country with laws an excellent police force, two because well Britain is a moral and safe place to live.

Then I had the sudden realisation, a cold shudder down the spine moment, how many more young women are right now living in housing estates across Britain, being raped daily and worse still may never be lucky enough to escape or only when they’re no longer of use!

Hmm scary thoughts as I went to bed, if I had a daughter living alone in a far away British city I may at that very moment make a phone call check, enforce rules, warn and lay the law down………. well I haven’t but you get the idea, but is enslaving human beings a new phenonium in England?

Of course not 200 years ago in Victorian England brothel owners would visit stagecoach stations looking out for young naïve country farm girls, attracted to the bright lights of London hoping to work as chamber maids for nice decent city families. However I’ve read a very different tale of one notorious well-known London madam, an infamous criminal who would meet those coaches arriving from deepest rural England, who would trick the girls into coming home with promises of a safe bed for the night, yet little did they know the bedroom meant years of disease ridden sex work.

So what has all this to do me? Nothing only last night that shocking thought was sex slavery still goes on.

A. Shepherdson 2018

Poohsticks ‘World Championships’ is played in my Town!

(I haven’t seen Christopher Robin as of yet, I’ve heard it’s very good so I’m 🙂 sure I will)

A home Town (may be mine) every year plays host to the World Poohsticks Championships, and yes I’m rather proud even if the event is just a bit of fun. 🙂 03/06/2018 to be exact.

Btw, The Championships are taken seriously and Money is raised for Charity! (The photo below was taken a few days in advance)

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Below E. H. Shepard’s original drawing of Christopher Robin and Winnie The Pooh playing Poohsticks from Pooh Bridge, the photograph of the bridge is to be found on Langel common………. incidentally bridging the River Windrush!

And yes I realise this ISN’T the true Pooh Bridge from literature, but for some reason the ‘Rotary Club’ changed location……….. possibly something to do with car parking issues?…….. No matter the day is fun packed with live music and stalls so no one minds
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Now reading the banner at the entrance to the common, lol see I’m not telling fibs 😀 my Town hosts it’s very own World Championships, and I should add walking beside Langel common’s long grasses brought on a sneezing fit………… my (blank) hay fever!

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Photo taken by me a few days before the event

Confused? Then please read on.

(As an aside I met an old friend on the day with her young Granddaughter, even at 70yrs Rosemary’s still a good looking woman, her eyes ACTUALLY sparkled in the sunlight)

Wow to think my English rural Town stages a World Championships is quite something and better still the afternoon’s event has absolutely nothing to do with a Sport involving balls now that’s impressive! On the Sunday of which I speak children descended to the common coming from miles around to play a game first written about in in 1928 by author A. A. Milne, and that children are competing in a game taken straight from children’s literature is something to be truly celebrated……….. don’t you agree?

That the day’s fun has nothing to do with action superheroes, ‘nonsense’ names in AI video games or overpaid Sportspersons and their balls should be applauded.

Now as I said, aficionados will know the game of Poohsticks was originally played on a footbridge across in Posingford Wood, but not to worry, my Town is famous for holding a World Championships and I think that’s fabulous and pretty cool.

(OK lol it’s not quite the Olympics but I DO try hard on my Blog)

Now 🙂 do I really have to explain how the game of Poohsticks is played seeing as you are all writer’s on a blogging platform, remembering Winnie The Pooh and his little band of chums is a classic book written for children? Of course not, you’ve probably read yourself as a child, read it aloud to your children or grandchildren it’s a wonderful story that’s captured imaginations for decades (and many more)…………. hmm I may even read again one day, and why not?

Ok you’ve twisted my arm, I’m at a loose end this afternoon so why not write about Winnie The Pooh without plagiarising that damned Wikipedia! (I’m probably breaking umpteen copyrights showing these pictures but I make NO money from blogging!)

The actual story can be found in the book ‘The House on Pooh Corner’.

Winnie The Pooh Christopher Robin and his friends hang over the rail of one side of the bridge……….. safely I might add!! Each or them holds a stick importantly owned only to themselves, they each drop their stick at the very same time then rush to the opposite side of the bridge, hang over and note SAFELY if you’re ever going to try, then wait and watch until the sticks come into view.

Remember I said each with a stick recognisable to themselves, well the first stick that comes into view wins! And if you yourselves play for heavens sake take care and stay SAFE!

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Lol aren’t you a tiny bit envious of my Town 😀 seeing as you are all writers? Only joking but the tale is still pretty cool and do you know what, I’m going to throw a stick off the bridge one day on the way to work!! 

A. Shepherdson 2018 (Artwork ©someone else)

 

Sightseeing in London…….. a photo dump!

I’ve been close to pulling my hair out! This post has taken ages to write and my Dell Laptop is playing up (dying), so apologies this follow up to my walking tour around The V&A and Tate Britain is such a late upload.

I would suggest reading part 1 (click ‘here’ for link) will help explain why I made this journey to London in the first place, thank you it’ll lol save me writing 300 words and please note ALL the photos were taken by me as I walked around London’s landmark buildings Saturday August 4th 2018.

(Very quickly I’ll tell you this is a response post to a WordPress blogger by the name of Juliette Turrell, she herself visited London namely The National Gallery and The V&A and click ‘here’ for Juliette’s very own daytrip to London with photos.)

Btw the blogging phrase ‘photo dump’ is a new one on me but I like it 🙂 .

Below is a picture of me sitting on the grass in sunny London enjoying an ice cold can of coke and slice of pizza..…….. and what do you think of the shoes? Don’t answer lol because I love them!

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😀 Feeling hungry and thirsty I gave The National Gallery a miss and went to Leicester Square for coke and Pizza in the sun…………… I don’t have to remind you I love my shoes, sooo comfortable!!

London was a blue skies blazing sun and 30 degree temperatures beautiful day, tooo hot for me if truth be told but I’m loathed to complain because there were pretty ladies wearing short dresses everywhere! I ask how could I ever complain!

Tate Britain picture gallery 

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Depending on which name you prefer, this painting hanging in the Tate is called ‘May Day’ or ‘Punch and Judy’

Below are a selection of exhibits both paintings also a marble sculpture of ‘Eve’ that particularly caught my eye!

 

The Victoria and Albert art museum (better known as the V&A)

Below the museum’s entrance , ‘the cast west wall’ and central hall containing several sculptures.


I have to admit I love riding the trains on The Underground, depending on a Tube Line I choose the train will within minutes whisk me to any number of landmarks parks railways stations. It’s the ONLY way to travel in car contested London.

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A tube train pulling into a London Underground station, and remember Londoners slept on these platforms during throughout world war two. 

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So MOMS do you consider yourself MILF?

A fun mild adult post with themes prompted by the current heatwave sweeping the UK, turns out my suggestion has come true, middle aged women in my home City have thrown caution to the wind and ditched their bras and I’m not being sexist remember, the older woman has found enough inner confidence to go braless and I’m NOT complaining.

Link to An open apology to women not wearing bras.

Perhaps I ought to say if you’re an adult who doesn’t understand what MILF stands for…….……… then lol perhaps this isn’t the post for you.

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Anne Bancroft in The Graduate

When I sat down to write this post I thought to myself I so SO hope a few Moms are reading, now I understand ladies you are never going to comment and reply but lol I’ll ask anyway, if you are a woman of more mature years reading this post, I’m curious to know have you ever stopped and asked yourself am I a ‘MILF?’

Mom I’d Like to F#ck?

But hold on before disappearing rather disgusted by my all to personal question, I’ll have you know MILF is an affectionate phrase because we men all love sexy older women……….. nothing wrong in admitting human beings are sexual mammals. AND hold on before answering because this anacronym is applied to a very particular type of older woman, she has to be sexually attractive to young men 17-21yrs! And I’d go as far as to say most teenage boys will have had a crush on a friend’s Mom or School teacher at some point, a childhood fantasy and nothing else.

I know I did, age 14 my first love was Miss Aspley my massively boobed Physics School Teacher! A lovely woman and :/ the sobering thought is she’s probably no longer with us time moving on and all, but jeeze they must have been Double D’s at least!

Anyways that’s quite enough of talk of boobs or you’ll be giving me a #METOO tongue lashing 😀 .

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Dustin Hoffmann’s iconic line, “are you trying to seduce me Mrs Robinson?”

So what prompted this silly post rather than part 2 of my London daytrip? Well the reason quite simply is the post isn’t ready (needs polishing) but not to worry………. hmm I’ll publish it this Friday.

Streaming into my computer the other night courtesy of amazon prime I watched ‘The Graduate’ a movie I haven’t seen in years, actually I’d quite forgotten how great it is, no not great ‘The Graduate’ is a cinematic classic and I really enjoyed myself. I’ll spare you my own film review because you’ll all know the story of an older woman seducing a college graduate and if you have yet to watch then I heartedly urge you to, the screenplay is crisply paced, Simon and Garfunkel’s music fits beautifully and afterward I thought to myself’ I don’t think Dustin Hofmann has ever bettered his screen performance as Benjamin Braddock a very shy innocent young virgin!

And of course as all good films usually are, The Graduate is based on a novel by the same name, funny how great movie screenplays are inspired by great novels, all the special effects in the world can’t save a movie if the storyline is crap!!

At this point I’m wishing my readers are screaming “SAY SOMETHING ABOUT ANNE BANKCROFT FOR HEAVEN’S SAKE!” And yes Anne Bancroft is utterly devine, her portrayal as sexy seductress Mrs Robinson is truly iconic, perhaps unusual for its time an older woman seducing a college boy rather than the roles being reversed and I’d say Anne will forever be the poster lady for the anachronym MILF………….. the personification of older woman sexiness and sensuality, because what Anne lacks in youth she more than makes up for with her skills of seduction, hmm would the movie get made today with thoughts of creepy Weinstein and the like? I’d hope so because she doesn’t rape him.

So returning to my post’s premise MILF is far from being a disgusting term (here in the UK anyway) in conversation we men will endearingly use the phrase to describe a sexy older woman, a confident woman of such experience and aged eroticism that she’ll appeal to older teenagers! Hmm I wonder if the older woman wishes this could happen to them in real life?

So any Moms/Mums reading, do you consider yourself MILF? (I’d 😀 guess no one answers.)

A. Shepherdson 2018

I visited London yesterday……. museums and art galleries

(All photographs taken by myself A. Shepherdson 4th August 2018)

I visited London yesterday…………… here’s my photographic journey!

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The Houses of Parliament, by me

A (very) short introduction

Anyone who Follows me on WordPress knows for sure I enjoy interacting with other bloggers whether that be tags or writing challenges, well this fine Sunday morning I have a response post for blogger Juliette Turrell, oh and of course anyone who’d like to see photographs taken on yesterday’s daytrip to London.

Juliette Turrell pretty much 1 week ago (read her blog here) visited both the National Gallery and Victoria & Albert Museum for her own personal daytrip, and note both are FREE ENTRY though she’s themed her post Architecture, which I’d forgotten about………… Well seeing as Saturday was such a beautiful sunny day I thought why not visit the V&A Museum and here is a photographic journey taken that day.

🙂 Thanks Juliette for inspiring me to visit London and NOT spend the morning in bed!

But first before I begin 2 pictures of the coach and underground tickets! 04/08/2018 🙂

The V&A museum Google for more detail

The 2 hour Oxford to London journey shuttled me deep into the heart of London, then from Victoria Coach Station I took the Underground directly to The V&A Museum, I’ve never visited before and being quite excited thought it would make a good start to the day!

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Entrance to the V&A (Victoria and Albert Museum)
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Western Cast Wall remind me of a Victorian backstreet, must be spooky at night with just moonlight streaming in

(Above) just look at the effect bright shafts of sunlight has on the structure!

Below The Hereford Screen, I actually stood gazing at this magnificent choir screen for what must have been 10 minutes…….. loved it! (Text courtesy of that fountain of knowledge Wikipedia.)

‘The Hereford Screen is a great choir screen designed by Sir George Gilbert Scott (1811–1878) and made for Hereford Cathedral, England in 1862. It was one of the Gothic Revival works in iron of the nineteenth century and when it was unveiled at the 1862 International Exhibition it was hailed as the “grandest and most triumphant achievement of modern architectural art”

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V&A Museum entrance Hall, more spectacular sculptures!

Juliette you visited the National Portrait, well I’ve been inside before though admittedly not for a few years! But decided on Tate Britain (picture and sculpture gallery) instead and I loved it! The paintings are truly spectacular by artists such as Turner and Constable, incidentally ‘The Hay Wain’ is displayed here……………… ok but I’m not a landscape man :/ .

Tate Britain fabulous! I loved it! Perhaps Wiki for more detail!

The Tate (note not Tate Modern at Battersea) is a picture gallery home to so many great artists through centuries past and or course many painted scenes from the Bible (loved these fables have inspired great works of art)……………. I’ll visit again simply because you could spend a whole afternoon looking at just 3 paintings……………… couldn’t you!

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Entrance, many Victorian museums had these magnificent stone structures built ESPECIALLY for them! Hmm Britain had a rich Empire back then.

The ‘Lady of Shalott’ (below & 1 of 3 versions) can be seen here, a truly beautiful image and I can assure you my camera hasn’t done the painting any justice…………. the light inside the gallery was poor and the public cannot take flash photography!

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The Lady of Shalott by John William Waterhouse

And below my favourite sculpture of the day, in fact my favourite art piece housed in Tate Britain, can you guess why? And very pert smooth and shapely she was tooo! Her name?………. I’m afraid I forgot my pen and paper sorry.

(Looking at the sculpture once again I’ve just this second noticed something I hadn’t seen at the gallery! Look closely below her feet and I see a snake coiling itself around the plinth…….…… which says to me the lady in the sculpture is in fact ‘Eve’ from the book of Genesis, she gave Adam the fruit so lol all blame should lie at her feet?)

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My favourite…… omg she’d look spectacular in my rear garden!

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EROTICA, for Centuries women have found pleasure upon the faces of men. Rosie!

Mildly adult themed therefore NSFW, incidentally did you know the anachronym stands for Not Suitable For Work? Hmm I didn’t until just recently, true.

oralI remember the afternoon I tasted a woman for the first time, close my eyes and I see two naked adults laying on a bed together, one a middle aged guy the other an Irish lady with dusty blonde hair and a few miles on the clock. Curvaceous she was with round perky tits, a tiny waist as you could ever hope to see and conversely wide child bearing hips giving her a classic pear shape figure as only English girls usually have.

So there we lay in a swanky London bedroom (hmm we’ll name her Rosie) the day she agreed to me going down below, she wasn’t sure mind biting her bottom lip with thoughts of I want to but let him wait, and a guy must never EVER pressurise a lady into doing something she’s not keen to. There Rosie lay on a friend’s large double bed, a window to our right curtains drawn with Autumn sun streaming onto us two naked lovers, passion filled and excited as two giddy intoxicated teenagers making love for the first time, the warmth of the sunlight making the temperature just right against a new season chill.

I asked, she agreed and neither of us had come after much kissing and fondling building to an intensity as only fabulous foreplay can do, the consequence both our brains were nervously excited and sexually stimulated as I moved from laying beside her warm fragrant body of sizeable hips and boobs jiggling like cold jelly sitting on a plate. Rosie parted her thighs, slowly to reveal sweet honey as you lift the lid of a beehive, a wonderous gorgeous moment as her lips curtain open, a moment I will never tire of till my dying day ❤ . 

Rosie now laying in the most receptive position a woman could ever give of herself if a little precarious, her outer labia parted revealing moistened pink flesh, plump soft folds near succulent to eat now made ever more shocking contrasted against milky white skin! But no I wasn’t going to slip and slide my hardness inside, no not for a while anyway, this afternoon I’d been given permission to lick and taste this wonderous beautiful oh so erotic opening leading deep inside a woman’s physical soul. 

I knelt before her as if praying at a religious altar, a special Godly place where you discover the meaning to life after entering heaven’s pearly gates. I smoothed the palms of my hands up and down her milk white silken thighs, touching for a second the pink patch surrounding her V, a colour of skin hidden by a woman’s panties and ever so erotic if you happen to see a lady her skirt drawn up her thighs, her intimacy hidden by soft white cotton delicates, if lucky you can just make out this flush tinted skin and yes very different to the rest of her body. Erotic. Secret and seldom often seen?

I’d waited my whole adult life for this moment, Rosie wide open her wet treasure glistening in the sunlight, me kneeling stroking with a finger, touching her pink rose petal the surrounding to her lips only to quickly pull away, tease her, arouse and excite, then Rosie having had enough of my annoying foreplay says,

“Go on Andrew lick me!”………….. a woman of few words was Rosie and if you want something badly enough do you need to ask twice when the connection you have with a lover is a near telepathic joining of souls!

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I have only one real regret in my life

You’ll no doubt be relieved to hear this isn’t a sex post, instead I’ve a more reflective post this evening.

Yes truthfully I’d like to share with my Blog that I do indeed have only one real regret in life, something I’m not terribly proud of, either way my mind returns to this thought more times than I care to admit…….. and bear in mind I’m not fishing for compliments, I did it and I have to live with myself all I would ask is you readers appreciate the advice.

I’m rather big with blog honesty.

My Grandfather came to a point in the latter years of his own life to sell his house and move into a residential old people’s home and I unconsciously made a choice. He wasn’t instructed to by children or advised to by social services, no he was a practical independent man in good health who came to a decision, a crossroads! One day out of the blue, he decided the day to day life of running a home and cooking for himself had all become a little tooo much, in fact he made the move himself along with children’s help importantly there was NO pressure!

And my big regret is?

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A word about my Blog for new Readers

Many thanks to a fellow blogger who’s shown me how important clearly defined categories are to a blog though I think my free theme is a little limited. But not to worry lovely WordPress give it to me for nothing thank you ❤ .

My blog is varied and eclectic content from cooking recipes, nature walks, thoughts, personal photographs and Erotic stories………… yes over the past 4 months I’ve ‘attempted’ to write erotic fiction.

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Casting ‘objects’ from concrete will…….

…………. SAVE you money! Oh yes it will and better still making concrete is easy. (Because I lay naked in my garden this post concerns the screen I made to stop people looking at my ass!)

Okay regular readers to this blog will already know the posts are varied, the themes eclectic well even for me today’s post ‘casting things from concrete’ is a little surreal and out there, but I thought someone may be interested and yes making your own ‘objects’ can save you money………… in fact what you can make is ONLY limited by the size of your imagination.

However if you live in a large Metropolitan City apartment complex such New York, err then you may have space issues?

A question! How much would you pay for a bird bath to go in the garden, a bath such as in the photos below? £30? Why not concrete cast your own for £2! What you’ll require is an old frying pan without handle, and an old washing up bowl. Place an open face down frying inside a washing up bowl, make sure it’s positioned in the middle and fill the washing up bowl with concrete, allow to set for 36 hours (no more), prize out the pan lid (carefully), invert the bowl and hey presto the bath should come out………………. and a the mould should always be made from wood or plastic but a frying pan should come out easy………….. read on!

A tip for you, wrap a sheet of kitchen cling film on the inside of the pan surface, and after setting the frying pan WILL come out easy leaving a fantastic finish. (Cling film will help with whatever you make 🙂 )

Or how about these concrete ‘stones’ cast with a hole in so you can insert screen poles, thereby keeping them upright, and note in the photos below I couldn’t push the screen’s poles into the ground anyway!! Why? Because the 5 concrete ‘stones’ are resting on loose rocks.

So I ask you, if you purchased 5 ‘stones with holes’ to support your rear garden screen, keep it upright and weighty enough to stop the wind blowing over, how much would you pay for 5? £60 or perhaps more!

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Below are more photos of the supporting stones manufactured by myself but this time in close up!

…………. and now for several additional photos of my screen and note I know one pole looks as if it’s leaning and that’s because I haven’t cast the concrete ‘stone/stand/weight’ as of right now! Call the screen a work in progress.

And if you’ve been following my Blog posts recently then you’ll have worked out why a garden screen is required, I sunbathe naked (there is a post) and I’d rather not have people walking past looking at me through the gaps in my fence! 😀 I don’t mind but you know, children walk past so one has to be careful.

I hope this post is useful to someone reading because yes,

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Beautiful Helen……. pt2 (erotica)

Continued from Helen part one click ‘pingback here’ and 2 days later here’s the ending, also mild adult fiction.

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Quick as a flash, I turned and near ran through my living room door………. 

………………… pulling the front door shut behind me! Helen had disappeared from clipping her pink roses hadn’t she, vanished into thin air?

I paused in my driveway my breathing beginning to steady as a spinning brain caught up after a very surreal last half an hour. One minute I’d been jerking myself off watching my gardening neighbour’s jiggling boobs within her yellow blouse, the next Helen over the road lifted the cotton top, showing me her pert round breasts and on reflection I’d say they’re a B cup!

Anyways now I’m perspiring searching for Helen who, if you read part 1, had incredibly beckoned me over to her home!

A thought crossed my mind, ‘the minx was playing games, she’d caught me watching her garden and teasingly flashed her tits’, oh ‘blank’ my heart sank! Helen’s getting her own back, leading me on with intentions of………. ?

A feeling of disappointment seeped into my mind, no more a worrisome thought, perhaps she’d cleared off to tell her husband I’m a Peeping Tom! ‘Oh God No’ as I quite involuntary felt an ache in my stomach, then my mature wet dream with a smiling face appeared from behind the corner of her house.

Waving her arms vigorously, Helen beckoned me a second time calling out,

“Andrew!……………….. Andrew, hurry up man” taking a sideways glance up the road she turned and continues,

“Hurry up, we haven’t much time!” All the while her arm waving me over and quite vigorous it was to, yummy mummy Helen really DID want me OVER!

Hurriedly stepping off the pavement I ran across the road remembering to glance both directions,

“Jeeze I don’t want to be hit by a car not now of all days”, I muttered.

My mind now trying to comprehend what an earth was happening in my life, at the same time a beating heart pounding within my chest blood pumping into my brain giving a numbed headache, a sexually excited thought consumed me as I jogged toward her garage and down a tiled path toward an alleyway leading to her rear garden, ‘doe’s she want my hard dick I wonder?’

From gazing out my window to jogging this claustrophobic pathway is but a minute yet felt like a lifetime, I mused “Hell’s fire, is this crazy woman tripping on drugs?” 

No sooner had I finished saying what could be my final sentence here on earth, my pace slowing to a briskness as I walked from the shadowed confines of a tight walled alley into the glaring sun of a VERY surreal late afternoon!

I stopped, soon followed by a near heart attack that could have taken my final breath as Helen jumped out from behind the house, flinging her arms around my shoulders she drew me closer as her back hit the wall and rather too hard to be comfortable.

Helen’s arms encircling my shoulders, my face but inches away from hers I felt warm breath against my mouth, and pulling me yet tighter into her body my two hands moved aside her hips as curling fingers held Helen’s waist. So close now our bodies touching from chest to thighs I felt her warmth through thin cotton fabric, her bosom rising with every intake of excited breath, my bulging groin now pressing deep into Helen’s crotch, and so large was my thickened dick it felt uncomfortable to move.

We kissed, passionately two adulterous lover’s wet lips parted open, the tips of our tongues touching entwined and dancing, my eyes wide open, Helen’s closed as her head moved from one side to the other her gorging lips devouring mine. For several minutes we deep throat kissed until finally one of us said something breaking a pre coitus silence.

Pulling her face from mine, Helen quite out of breath said,

“Andrew we haven’t much time”, smiling so sweetly her lips pecked me on mine and my heart began to sing, now my frenzied brain had finally caught up with the past 5 minutes near dreamlike incredulity. ‘Oh yes I’m quite alive’ I mused while standing in Helen’s rear garden pressing her against the wall kissing cuddling and for this brief moment her soft wet lips showed all I ever needed to know, ‘Helen wanted me, needed me, loved me!’

“My husband’s buying paint at the DIY store” she smiled a wanting fire lit in her eyes, “there’s no time to f### right now”, that was a shock and a half I can tell you……. ‘WHO SAID ANYTHING ABOUT SEX?’ “But I will jerk you off this time” she continued with a grin “I could see you staring at me and wanking, you dirty devil Andrew!”

Pausing blushing and smiling at my adulterous siren, Helen went further, “I was watching your right arm jerking, tell me did you come?”

“NO, and stopping near killed me Helen!”

Me open mouthed, a look of shock across my face, I just about got a questioning “you mean my curtain’s are actually see through?” 

Then at the very point of Helen answering, my torso pulled back, the palm of my open right hand thrust into her crotch groping and squeezing her intimacy, my fingers prising her thighs apart as they curled underneath her fanny bridge, warm soft no doubt twitching and ready.

Helen gasped whatever she was about to answer unable to come from her mouth.

I squeezed her crotch tighter cupping my palm ever wider, the other hand now tugging at the button of her jeans a sexual excitement overtaking any lingering inhibitions. My imagination had long ago dissipated now replaced by a carnal primeval lust, the only thought ‘my fingers are going between her pussy lips whether she stops me or not!’

(Remember 🙂 this is a tall tale)

My fumbling fingers having unbutton her jean’s 28″ waist I pulled down the cold metal zipper, excitedly tugging at the raw cotton sliding down her shapely thighs, bending my knees as I crouched. Standing again my left arm reached around Helen’s hip an open hand squeezing a buttock feeling it’s roundness beneath soft cotton panties. As my right hand felt her ass, fingers of my other hand fumbled again into Helen’s crotch as I pulled her pantie gusset to one side, wriggling dexterous fingers in between parted folds of moist labia, all the while our faces but inch’s apart staring into each others eyes and both breathing ever deeper.

She smiled again, whimpering panting then catching a breath again as my dancing fingers touched a sacred pleasure spot, and after what seemed an age of fingering Helen’s dripping wet treasure, she worriedly repeated her stark warning,

“Paul won’t be long, we’ll f### another day Andrew” betraying a sadness in her eyes, she continued “you feel so big and thick against me, I’ll take you inside I promise”, then glancing down at her wrist watch and looking terrified, she said,

“Omg he’ll return in minutes, you have to go! NOW!” Such a crying shame I mused with my hand deep under Helen’s crotch and fingers searching for god knows what inside her warm pussy?

The excitement all tooo much for me, remember I was at a point of climax but ten minutes ago, I felt my ball’s rising as their storks shortened, my throbbing penis bucking as gorgeous sensations excited the nerve endings around the rim of my ‘bellend’, “I can’t hold back any longer” I whispered, panicking thoughts of ‘this passion’s all to much for me’ flooding my mind numbed drugged and slightly euphoric.

My eyes losing contact with hers, my head jerked back as I ejaculated thick creamy semen into my boxer shorts, warm and sticking to my thigh, an audible “I’m coming” gasping through open lips as I released, and God how I kept releasing!

The End.

(All very tame content with zero sex, oh and BTW my last erotic sexy tale for a while 😉 )

©A. Shepherdson 2018

 

 

Beautiful Helen from across the road (erotica)

A word of warning this mild adult EROTICA I’ve written this evening! 🙂

Click ‘here’ for ‘Beautiful Helen from across the road’ The Ending!!!

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I’m standing close behind the living room window gazing at my neighbour Helen across the road, but don’t worry she cannot see me I’ve got net curtains that’s why, and take note I’m not a curtain twitcher or a peeping Tom looking at what others are up to in their spare time. No it’s just people pass by and used to look through the window into my living room, so UP went the net curtain!

But watching Helen busying herself pottering around her front garden is different, and I’m not being nosey mind, certainly not because this is me time, a time to gaze and appreciate my beautiful neighbour from across the Road.

Helen’s an elegant young looking fifty year old, with a slim and slender body now crouching on the lawn facing me, one knee pressed into the grass, a trowel in hand weeding around the bases of her delightful and loved rose trees.

Every so often she’ll lean forward her pretty face a picture of concentration as her arms tug at stubborn dandelions the most invasive of plants, and I watch and wait for these very moments because invariably at the same time as her vigorous gardening the looping neck line of Helen’s baggy yellow blouse opens to reveal pendulous firm boobs waving from side to side. Then if I really concentrate my gaze I can just about see her nipples, large dark disks of areola they are, chocolate brown in fact now vividly contrasted against her milk white skinned boobs.

Omg there must be a particularly hard weed to pull out because she has to stand up bend forward and tug with all her slender might, and joy of joys the neck of her oversize blouse drapes further and opens even wider to reveal both breasts now swinging untethered by a tight fitting bra. Oh thank you Sweet Jesus for summer gardening days such as these!

A questioning thought suddenly crossed my mind, jeeze I pondered, Helen doesn’t half spend a long time weeding that same patch directly opposite me! Glancing down at my wrist watch, and now very shocked to see my neighbour in the early autumn days of her life hadn’t moved from weeding that single pink flowering rose tree for, I stared at the dial and quite taken aback I realised for the last ten minutes……… I physically gulped in shock! A cold shiver went down my spine, omg I thought to myself, ‘Helen knows I’m watching, my curtains aren’t blocking my voyeuristic playtime as well as I’d hoped and assumed.’

‘Holy f*ck!’ my brain momentarily in seizure, ‘jeeze what happens now’ I thought with beads of sweat forming on the skin of my brow, and all the time I rushed to let go of the shaft of my hardened penis, tugging at the elasticated hem of my boxer shorts, because yes I’d been masturbating whilst gazing at Helen’s pendulous swinging boobs with chocolate coloured nipples!

As you can imagine my mind’s in a state of excited panic, my heavy breathing isn’t only because I’d been caught watching, no minutes earlier I’d very nearly climaxed. creamy jizz soon to squirt into a white tissue held with the other hand, my excited hard shaft bucking and twitching about to shoot its load!

Yet more panic as I reached down to pull up my jeans and all this time Helen stood like an ashen faced manikin straight out of a teen horror movie, motionless, erect her face staring unnervingly straight at me through a net curtain more see through than I’d ever assumed!

‘What an earth happens now?’ I thought. ‘Does she run for her husband? Call the Police to arrest the peeping Tom from across the Road?’ A myriad of awful doom laden thoughts flashed past my mind as I finally zipped up my jean flies, my clothing now straight!

I felt my cheeks burning hot, cold droplets of perspiration trickling down my torso, my armpits now as warmed as all other erogenous parts of my body, then Helen did something so incredible, so close to unbelievable I nearly cannot write of the shock right here! Helen lifted her two arms, hands clasping the hem of her vivid yellow flouncy cotton blouse, only to pull the garment to first passing her waist, pause, then yet further still up and over her bosom so revealing two round breasts…………….. both approx a palmful therefore from experience I’d say a fulsome c cup.

So previously close to orgasm I nearly jizzed inside my boxer’s there and then!

Open mouthed my face a picture of bewildered incredulity, Helen smiled from across the road and for a second I don’t think I’ve felt such a mixture of relief and happiness mixed into one. But hold on her right hand no longer holding the garment’s waist hem, Helen raised her arm and with a curled up first finger my beautiful neighbour from across the road beckoned me closer.

Quick as a flash, I turned and near ran through my living room door……

To be continued and the link to part two you’ll find at the beginning!

©A. Shepherdson 2018 original and written by me.

Tomato beef Bolognese (with) Fusilli

🙂 I had intended to share more cookery posts with you lovely people across the globe but Supermarket pre-prepared chilled meals put paid to that idea, my Grandmother (both actually) would be horrified I buy pre-packaged macaroni cheese for heavens sake but they’re convenient, there’s no after washing up and well I’m lazy?

Talking of readers to my blog out there in cyber-sphere, okay I know I’m not hugely popular but I’m near addicted to checking statistics, I’m not a numbers person but I DO love the world map and I’m still blown away someone in China India or the Lebanon is stopping by to read a post………………. amazing ❤ .

HOWEVER I’m lol here to tell you I do bake cakes and cook from scratch, preparing and following a time schedule isn’t difficult for a skilled engineer and I refuse to purchase bottled curry and bolognaise sauces, mainly because of the amount of preservatives and chemicals contained PLUS I’ll divide into four portions eat one and freeze four now isn’t that sensible?

So this evening I have a recipe for tomato and beef bolognaise to be eaten with Fusilli pasta…….. oh and with accompanying photos are taken by me! Ok maybe not the prettiest but my bolognaises are tasty and warming comfort food on a cold winter’s evening.

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Ingredients

  • 400g – lean minced beef
  • 1 – tin of chopped tomatoes (although I have used skinless fresh)
  • 2 – chopped onions (do you soften? I don’t bother)
  • tomato puree, 1 desert spoonful bought in tube or tin form
  • 1 – oxo cube?
  • olive oil (for browning mince)
  • 1 – brown paper bag of mushrooms, chopped
  • 4oz – Fusilli pasta (from Waitrose supermarket)
  • cheese cubes of choice to sprinkle on top
  • ‘splurge’ of Heinze ketchup optional! (I’ve a another idea why not use chili sauce or the like?)
  • Ground black pepper

And :/ no err I don’t make my own pasta, hmm does anyone?

Preparation

  1. Brown mince in saucepan with a touch of olive oil (drain off fat)
  2. Chop 2 onions
  3. Add tin of chopped tomatoes to saucepan and one can full of fresh water
  4. Season with ground black pepper
  5. Stir in tomato puree
  6. Add chopped onion
  7. Simmer for 1 hour (remember after 30 minutes add button mushrooms)
  8. Follow pasta directions on packet (usually is add pasta to boiling water cook for ten minutes
  9. Drain pasta, plate and add bolognaise mixture, sprinkle with cheese (remember you have extra portions three of which you can freeze)

I simmer over a low heat for one hour (tell me if I’m going wrong please) HOWEVER if I leave the mixture cooling in a pan over night then come next morning, and yes this could be wishful thinking, but the beef and tomato bolognaise seems to taste even better! The meat absorbing the flavour from all those lovely ingredients?

And yes I guess adding Heinze ketchup is cheating, but much like my blogging I don’t know what I’m doing consequently I ‘wing it’ so to speak! (BUT note the recipe is my mothers)

🙂 Enjoy! 

A. Shepherdson 2018

 

Roald Dahl’s advice to short story writers – a response to LA

‘Today’s post is a response to ‘LA’ over at Waking up on the wrong side of 50, a slightly irreverent, thought provoking, funny and always entertaining Lady. I’m the first to admit my tales break creative writing rules though I HAVE learnt a few tricks over the months 😉 , anyways LA has intrigued me with her thoughts of creative writing and well her post nudged my mind into remembering this story about the author Roald Dahl………… and his fascinating insight into the use of adjectives!’

kkkkkHmm, I wonder what Roald Dahl’s thoughts on text speak would be? Especially the word LOL 😀 .

The time I’ve spent searching the internet trying to find the letter below……………. (shaking his head in frustration!)……… lol 🙂 ages that’s how long, but seeing as I’m sharing a few thoughts on creative writing I was determined to seek out Roald Dahl’s advice for ALL teller’s of short stories, this 2015 article I’d read many months ago and was determined to find…………. note as you’d expect typewriter written!

Roald-Dahl

I’ve never forgotten Roald’s letter (above) posted back to a young fan who sent him a short story he himself had written, and I love the line ‘surely it is better to say “she was a tall girl with a big bosom” than “she was a tall girl with a shapely, prominent bosom”, or some such rubbish. The first one says it all.

(Is Dahl ‘showing’ us her boobs leaving the shape and size to OUR imagination, rather than ‘telling’ us exactly what they are?)

For some unknown reason Dahl’s acerbic advice is now imprinted into my imagination, and what is SO wrong with ‘shapely and prominent’? Forget her tits for a second, the fact Dahl has scant regard for descriptive adjectives has ALWAYS fascinated.

So all this talk of creative storytelling prompted the topic of writing novels! Do I have one inside me?

Life is full of many universally known phrases whichever your chosen language, I’m referring to sayings rather than inspirational quotes a genre I’m not keen on only because I’m an idle unmotivated bugger!!! But if quotes work for you that’s fabulous, perhaps I should try?

Returning to recognisable phrases and one particularly noteworthy ‘gem’ of advice and interest to WordPress blogger’s, how do I know? Because I’ve read their thoughts on the matter, so here is the universally acknowledged saying of which I speak!

“Each one of us has a Novel inside them!”

:/ Hmm so ‘Andrew’ do I have a novel waiting to be born into this world?

Note the word Novel because we ALL have stories to tell, my blog has many tales of the afternoons spent consensually making love to women (I have 3 more to come!) I cannot speak for everyone but I find writing life stories flow quite easily, I visualise the setting and just put those mind’s thoughts to ‘paper’.………. whether the tale is any frigging good is a whole different question.

So here I return to Roald’s critical advice posted to a young fan and note ‘Jay’ was far from upset, in fact the young lad became a journalist saying he’s quite literally lived his working life by those words…………….. so I got to thinking should I be SO afraid of attempting to write a book when Dahl is SO dismissive of the over use of descriptive language.

I adore Thomas Hardy for his wonderful descriptions of rural England, but jeeze Hardy can be near tortuous difficult reading, I persevere simply because of the sheer brilliance of Chapter One in ‘Far from the Madding Crowd’.

But being serious for a second I ask do each of us have a book inside us? Printable into hard copy, purchasable in a bookshop for actual pounds and pence? Worthy enough to be stocked upon the shelves in a library or deemed such a fun read that you’d share and tell a friend? Hmm yes we all have books within us, Amazon is filled with them poetry humour fun reads but as for a novel I don’t think so simply because I like many people have glaring gaping holes in creative writing, I cannot tell you which but I know for certain I have .

Importantly I have a suspicion serious novel writing has to be fun much the same as blogging because if you don’t enjoy the process then why bother 🙂 ❤

On reflection I don’t have a novel inside, short sexy stories yes but a novel? No I’ve some lessons to learn before attempting that…………….. but you go for it LA, I promise I’ll buy. Novels appear to be a labour of love as all great hobbies should be, they’re difficult to write, structures genres and rules to abide by, but if I didn’t have to share my work with a teacher or classmates then I know I’d enjoy learning how to write creatively.

To wrap up this post I’ll leave you with thoughts of character driven dialogue versus descriptive scene setting, now there’s a writing conundrum if ever I read one.

(After writing this post I stopped by a Roald Dahl fan website and read extracts from his various books, and all I can say is the man was a genius storyteller……… and using a typewriter with NO spellcheck!!………. I’d be f#####d without spellcheck!)

A. Shepherdson 2018

A little about me

Before I begin (and well done France World Cup Champions) a word of advice, if you’re going to sunbathe naked in your garden apply sunscreen, the backs of my legs will keep me warm in bed tonight! And note the last time you’ll ever see my ass on WordPress again!

Over seventy posts published and note each one original and written by me, yay aren’t I a clever boy! No my apologies if I’m coming across as bragging but yes I am rather proud of 4 month’s blogging and ALL my own work………… 🙂 btw you’ll have me for a while longer.

AND then I got to thinking besides several tag posts which you can read here if you’d really like to, I haven’t said a great deal about myself and there’s no real reason for this apart from like many of you bloggers out there, I am loathed to share tooo much detail of my private life……………. I’d love to but again like you all I have to be careful.

This isn’t a post about blogging but while I’m on the subject my advice is follow the common sense rules, no nudity lol, only reveal personal detail that you’re comfortable stranger’s knowing and especially in photographs, change your name or don’t change and never share addresses email numbers with strangers oh and last of all enjoy yourself it’s only writing 🙂 .

Ok a little about me because I’m feeling in the mood, I’m age 50, own my own home, single consequently often feel very lonely and similar to most men very much in love with my genitalia! A strange fact to admit but we guys love our bits more than you ladies know 😉 though I won’t share with you my hard 7½ inches because luckily for you, UK Law doesn’t allow and I WAS only joking anyway.

(How would a post fair totally dedicated to all things genitalia? Hmm there’s a thought not and incidentally I have written one dedicated to lady’s breasts, though I’ll never share)

I’m a skilled craftsmen by Trade, expert in the use of metalworking tools having begun a Toolmaking apprenticeship at the age of sweet 16, and yes I’m going to blow my own trumpet and say I’m rather good at my job (not much else though 😀 ) I’ll share a deep secret with you all, looking back over my shoulder towards my distant youthful past, I realise now I’ve missed opportunities to have relationships with girls. Life regrets are a terrible fact to live with and I guess if I have only one piece of advice to give noting that I’m now closer to the end than the beginning, and YES with age comes wisdom!

My one piece of advice to youngsters would be go talk to that girl or boy you’d love to know better! Ask them on a date because what’s the worst that can happen if he/she says no or isn’t interested? If no, then put the cold shoulder down to experience, learn a lesson move on and you’ll never have regrets.

Lol you’ll realise by now I have a dating regret!

I once knew a red headed girl from Sheffield, we met on a residential youth leader course she liked me I liked her and I should have tried harder to keep in touch after returning to our home cities. Not having done so is the biggest regret of my life though I have mitigating reasons for not doing so. Today when in life’s quieter moments I often ask myself ‘I wonder what is Helen doing now?’ Is she alive? Is she happy fit and healthy? But most of all I’m curious if she ever married? Oh and does she still have that curly red hair so becoming to her face and suited her so? Quite the little sexpot she was!

Perhaps soppy old me overplays the significance of getting to know someone briefly and in rather an intense atmosphere, we became friendly and that’s all but my sister met her future husband in similar circumstances then again a friend of mine married his childhood sweetheart he’d known right through school, who knows when and where cupid’s arrow strikes next?

Ahh missed opportunities but remember we’re talking of the days before email, mobile phones Snapchat WhatsApp and Facebook, keeping in touch with someone a hundred miles away would be so much easier now, but back in 19 whenever all we had was my mother’s phone and incidentally the line was shared with our next door neighbour! Hard to believe now but when I was young I would pick up our phone and sometimes hear my neighbour chatting to someone! My mum would often run round next door to tell them she had a call to make and would probably be chatting for such and such time. Incredible I know AND our number was only 4 digits long…………… 5210!

Yep ‘keeping in touch technology’ has made children’s lives so much happier even though I’d burn every last time-wasting Gaming console if I could, whatever happened to making go-carts out of wood and stolen pram wheels? I made at least three.

I’d guess Helen’s married simply because she possessed such a friendly kind bubbly personality, I also have a strong feeling she has several children and is quite probably a young Grandmother………… frigging hell time flies so fast! That’s another piece of advice I share with my lovely nieces, switch off those phones, forget on-line socialising and go chat with boys or girls because before you know it you’ll wake up one day aged fifty!

The commonly heard saying ‘life is wasted on the young’ is so true, children are blessed with youth health and vitality yet still mope around saying “I’m bored!” For Christ’s sake make use of those blessed gifts each and everyday while you’re still young. Not to worry in our family though, my nieces enjoy life to the full, they’re loved happy healthy have interests and many friends so who could ask for more? They enjoy life and that’s the best anyone can hope for………….. they’re all happy and again speaking with the benefit of wisdom, happiness is ALL that really matters! Hmm perhaps remembering short plump lovely Helen through rose tinted spectacles isn’t such a great idea!

Oh dear I began talking about meee and then became all philosophical about life, 🙂 early Sunday evening thoughts!

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Sunburn! Painful dangerous and not funny.

A. Shepherdson 2018

News – I’ve had a change of mind!

Early Saturday morning thoughts.

Do you know what, I may even have stumbled across my ideal fantasy woman yesterday evening! Age 50, dusty blonde hair, large round DD boobs and strong shapely thighs, furthermore she’s confident stunning and exudes sexuality I’ll be dreaming of her in bed tonight for sure 😮 WOW!

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🙂 Enough talk of gorgeous MILF, though the lady is stunning!

Btw a gastronomic tip for you, I’ve a deliciously tasty breakfast combination to tell you about! A bowl of Kellogg’s crunchy nut cornflakes topped with chopped strawberries tastes divine, food heaven, in fact I’m laying naked on my sun lounger enjoying the sun with a coffee and a bowl right now!

You wouldn’t imagine they work together, but they do! (note no milk)

Oh yes I had a new blog! Not a great idea no one read the post, and what’s the point writing a blog if no one reads? And I’m never starting a new blog again! (Lol I often muse that thought)

Therefore all future posts will appear on ‘ablogfromtheuk’, yes good or bad I’ll publish here, BUT I’ll inform readers if they’re mild adult or not, then the choice to read or not is yours alone. JUST be aware the next post will be different again err like a recipe for making lasagne with photos……………………. it’s coming!!!

And when I warn you contains mild adult themes what I really mean is the tale is so vanilla and tame, a Virgin Nun would read and NOT even blush let alone moisten down below? (Hmm do they, don’t be disrespectful!!!)……….. Jeeze I really don’t know why I bother ‘getting myself into such a tizzy’ over content?

But I’m a nice guy and informing you only seems only fair.

My WordPress will always be eclectic, varied content and devoid of one single theme, for me that’s blogging fun, and when I stop enjoying ‘writing’ in this style is the day I finish or as a commenter once wrote ‘taking a break from blogging’ is absolutely fine.

A. Shepherdson 2018

Sunbathing in my garden pt2

Just for fun.

Surrey Police Constabulary have shared advice to those wishing to sunbathe naked in their garden, apparently three unrelenting weeks of soaring 30 degree temperatures, blue skies and hot sunny days has caused friction between nude garden sunbathers and their neighbours…………………. not with me though, I lay on my lounger in the garden most evenings after work and as of yet 🙂 with no complaints, BUT I am both careful and respectful at all times.

The United Kingdom Police Statement reads.

“If you want to wander around your garden naked and you are overlooked by neighbours then you have to be careful – an Englishman’s home is not quite his castle and your garden is not exempt from the law.

In an ideal world, your relationship with your neighbours would be such that they would not object to you gardening in the buff and they would never dream of calling the police.

In the real world, however, you would be well advised to take some simple precautions, we suggest you sunbathe in one part of the garden that’s screened from view.

You will have to decide whether your desire to be naked in your garden is more important to you than being on friendly terms with those around you, it’s up to you, but it may be best to play it safe if your garden is overlooked by other properties and you’re unsure of where your neighbours stand on nudity.”

So all you nude sunbathers 🙂 now you know!

Reading through seems good and fair legal advice, if you are overlooked by residents or workers! Then nude sunbathing isn’t such a good idea and most definitely NOT at the expense of falling out of favour with one’s good neighbours, btw the one and only photo of my rear. All good clean fun.

I’ll be completely honest with you and say for the first time in my life I understand the pro nudist argument, the feeling of warm sunlight across my body and a gentle cool breeze 😉 is actually rather exhilarating and could become addictive, but as the Police Statement says show respect to your neighbours and nude sunbathing is all good fun and complies with British Law.

One final thought after downloading these photos taken this afternoon, I got to thinking very seldom do I see what I appear like from the rear! Oh and did you see President Trump at Blenheim Palace……………………… I told you he’d visit.

A. Shepherdson 2018

 

Ray’s Detective writing challenge!

Ray this Detective challenge of yours captured my imagination, my very first picture prompt actually and fascinating to me because three quarters in, without a care in the world I wrote myself into a literary dead end! If truth be told I very nearly deleted but persevered and came up with an ending which I think works but for the reader to decide. Hmm that possibly gives away my style, an idea, write, and see where a tale takes me?

I enjoyed writing Sally’s cheating husband lol in fact I got a little carried away, but it was fun and passed a few happy hours 🙂 , hope you enjoy and thank you. 🙂 ❤

Ray’s Rules:
You are a private investigator. You have worked for Mrs Sally Canetti during the last 3 months – chasing her cheating husband. Write a short note to her (on the following photo).

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Ray’s picture prompt

I am the Private Investigator

I have worked for Mrs Sally Canetti during the last 3 months chasing her cheating husband

Below is my short(ish) note, posted in an envelope to Sally Canetti with photo

The cheating artist in the photo = Mr Canetti

The artist’s nude model = Scarlet Dufrain

Dear Mrs Canetti,

I trust you’ve been keeping well since we last met, would you believe three months have passed, time flies, and I fear this will be reflected in my increased fee (attached receipt), the train tickets swallowed most of your retainer and London bed and breakfast consumed what little was left!

London I hear you say? Yes your husband visit’s London at the weekends and no doesn’t go fishing with his brother, then again you guessed correct the brother is a lying asshole, so beware the girly chats you have with his wife at the salon, a tissue of lies! Because now for certain I know he IS cheating as you suspected, hopefully my evidence will bring closure and off the record possibilities of great wealth……….. please remember that when you appraise my inflated fee.

Now you’ve recovered from reading the much inflated fee I’m afraid there’s good and bad news, your husband is mistrustful consequently takes great care with fidelities. For six weekends I followed Mr Canetti to London Paddington observing him from a carriage behind, and on each time pulling into the platform we’d alight then I’d lose sight as he hurriedly disappeared from view melting into the crowds. However all’s not lost, every Friday evening I’d follow his journey that little bit farther, that first Friday I lost him at the entrance to Paddington Underground………. very disappointing, all was not lost though, the following Friday I waited at said entrance and would follow him approximately 5 minutes more. Your husband is a clever man Sally, first I lost him after he alighted at Belize Park Station, the bastard waited till seconds before the door shut, jumped out passing him as he walked up the platform as I sped into the tunnel, you’ll guess I lost him.

Well not to worry, I surmised correctly our errant husband follows the same route and to the exact same timetable of trains, so having a hunch I took an earlier train than he to London, travelled the Underground to Belsize, sat in the waiting room with a coffee (note all costs are receipted) as the very same train motioned to pull out the station your husband jumped out and briskly strode through the exit with me in tow. I might add sporting a very self satisfied smug grin but it takes a clever man to hoodwink old ‘Sniffer Dobbins!’ Keeping your husband in view, sniffer by name sniffer nature, I followed close behind and on exiting the Station we took the short walk to Belsize Park (yes it really is a Park) and would you believe it I got lucky at last, because sited alongside the Park sat a row of black taxis, then quick as a flash your husband near leaped from pavement into a cab, so with great haste I might add, I jumped into the cab behind has he sped of into the distance me shouting to the driver,

“My man FOLLOW THAT BLACK CAB!”

And Sally what a splendid driver Abdallah was, with a great haste, as safely he could muster, my Pakistani friend followed your husband across busy London, driving up side streets, swerving around pedestrians, a quick left turn, down a one way street THE wrong way perhaps with a fast corner right, which got me thinking your stickler for timing husband and careful subversive behaviour takes the very same taxi every weekend.

I was proved correct!

We followed, or I should say Abdallah drove as fast he dare trying to keep up, I fed him a lie I was Military Intelligence (MI5) following a suspected carrier of Novochek nerve agent heading for Salisbury, a trick of our Trade is gaining friends, it excites people such as Abdallah to get involved.

Your husband’s car slowed down on driving through a quiet street off Piccadilly Circus, Abdalla followed slowly from behind and we two observed the taxi door open, your husband step out and pay his fare, nervously glance up and down said Street, climb several steps and enters a terraced flat. Though be aware Sally! Mr Canetti didn’t knock and wait for someone to open and let him in, no he took keys from HIS coat pocket, glanced up the Street again and disappeared inside.

Receipts for Taxi fares you’ll find in the envelope!

Here at ‘Findum & Catchum’ Private Investigators, our primary work is following wayward spouses, and experience tells old ‘sniffer’ Dobbins letting yourself into a flat only means one thing, and as I suspected your husband owns said Flat because later that afternoon I paid a special visit to Council records, and yes I guessed correct it’s there in black and white, your husband is sitting tenant for his Flat if by a different name, rather clever actually…… Mrs Canetti on full payment of our Bill I will provide you his address and photographs, yes I’d guess the photo of your husband painting a naked model hanging from a wall has been troubling your mind?

Three months passed while tracking your husband’s secretive clandestine fun and games, but there’s more, with every London Visit to his Flat off Piccadilly Circus, ten minutes to the second after your husband entered his flat, a pretty young lady with flowing long blonde hair would knock the door and Mr Canetti would let her in!

Scarlet Dufrain is her name!

So Sally here my tale arrives at weekend last. Friday I’d taken the precaution to rent a room directly to the rear of his flat, a ‘sniffer’ Dobbins hunch, and yes luck was with me, looking through my trusty camera’s Telephoto lens I would gaze into Mr Canetti ‘s living room with skylight, and another lucky break, your husband and Miss Scarlett Dufrain entered. Yes a Miss Scarlet, do you know her Sally? Well I didn’t and on further enquiries she works for a High Class Escort Agency and is not an artist model, Scarlet by name Scarlet by nature!

So what did they do together, I’d guess that’s troubling you now, well Friday evening he painted Scarlet in various naked poses, still life’s I think they’re known as! No she’s not a model Sally, I regret to inform you Miss Dufrain is an escort, a hooker, a rather pricey seller of sex!

I’d guess he pays her hourly fee with the money he receives from renting his flat out Sunday to Thursday……………. answer’s your question how did he pay for that new Mercedes, so you’ll be comforted to know he’s not returned to armed robbery and holding up Post Offices again! Be happy in yourself after all divorce settlements are made no creditors will appear from the woodwork, my suggested solicitors ‘Simon & Tedesco’ should see you right.

So back I come to 4pm Friday afternoon, there I was peering into Mr Canetti’s living room, the afternoon my enclosed evidence was taken and on payment you will receive photos ALL……… AND now’s the time I have to share the gory details of what your cheating husband got up to each weekend.

Very strange goings on Sally the like I’ve never seen in all my hours of hunting cheating spouses, Miss Scarlet walked into the room first, disrobed to naked, then my third ‘stroke’ of luck for you, she didn’t close the curtains! Scarlet wandered around the living room nude, perhaps looked in a mirror, admired her trim figure, plumped her golden locks then near jumped out of her skin when Mr Canetti walked in dressed as, brace yourself!..………… Dressed as Pablo Picasso so he was, all to paint his ‘Pretty Woman’s’ image in oils, the photos will look great in Court! 

But there was a twist Friday last, Scarlet moved her posing chair to below the skylight, Mr Canetti bound rope around her arms, attaching her to the wall though note with her intimacy hidden, then returning to his easel, with his back to me, I watched him paint Miss Scarlet’s image………. the image of her at the Bow of a ship!

After he’d finished painting Miss Dufrain she was unattached from the wall, and there’s more, the expansive brush stokes whipped him into a frenzy so they did, the final act from this artistic drama being he’d rip off every stitch of his clothing, near throw Miss Scarlet to the floor and there they’d lay on top a threadbare deep green carpet making mad passionate love!

I have ALL the photos taken across five afternoon and they’ll be provided when said Bill is settled in full, and I’d like to think you’d pay ‘Findum & Catchum’ Investigator’s a nice healthy bonus, with my diligent private investigation I’ve recorded many explicit images, enough evidence for ‘Simon & Tedesco’ to take him for every penny he has………. there’s even a London Flat for you Sally, and speaking as your friend, I trust you’ve found my rather long winded tale interesting reading, yes rather long but very thorough.

THAT’S the good news of which I speak now for the BAD.

I have the gravest of news for you Mrs Canetti, awful information that I’ve never had to share with a patron before! Usually an errant spouse will take the greatest of care with protection, but alas each time I watched your husband make love to naked Scarlet on that dark Green carpet, Sally I can hardly bring myself to share with you but I must! The gravest of News is…….. Mr Canetti never once wore condoms! No I’m afraid not a single time and oh boy I saw a great deal of lovemaking. 

Where was I? Condoms! No I fear your husband did not use any. Intimate relations between husband and wife are not the business of ‘Findum & Catchum’ Investigators but as your friend of many many years I don’t really need to spell out do I Miss Scarlet Dufrain is an escort, a hooker an expensive prostitute, she engages in unprotected sex with many a client…………… well Sally I need write no further………….. except go get yourself tested!

Kind regards, ‘Sniffer’ Dobbins of ‘Findum & Catchum Private Investigation Agency’.

 

Original picture prompted tale BY A. Shepherdson 2018

We are England!

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No this Isn’t a post lamenting the cock up that is BREXIT, neither is this post asking why I no longer feel as if I’m living in a Green and Pleasant land, I remember the England of my youth seemed to be a happier place to live in?

My Mum’s father used to talk fondly of ‘The Good Ole Days’ and I find myself using that same phrase now, hmm I wonder did they ever exist?

No the England I speak of is of course our World Cup Football Team, and against all the odds we’ve reached the semi finals to be played on Wednesday. Enough to say the Country will shut up shop for 2 hours and 40 million men women and children will be glued to a TV screen for what will surely be a nerve-wrecking nail-biting game of football. There’ll be emotional highs and lows that’ll swing from ecstatic euphoria to utter despair and ultimately one team will win and progress to the Final!

We win and my nerves will be shredded once again!

Btw this isn’t a post about playing the game of football, there’s nothing more tedious than reading about statistics form, or how the beautiful game should be played………. sport is fabulous because it’s a game of opinions.

No rather than talking football I wanted to write down a few thoughts while we’re still in the Competition, because come 9 o’clock Wednesday evening I’ll either be excited because we’re in the Final or down in the dumps because our Team’s on the way home.

No rather than the how to play, I’d rather dwell on why this Team has reached a Semi when football powerhouse Countries such as Brazil Germany Spain and Italy have long since gone home…….. because amazingly, against all the odds England are in a frigging Semi final! We talk of little else at work apart from this Russian Tournament, most chat is how on earth have we reached these dizzy heights when our England Team was written off by everyone even me!

Teamwork and an inspirational Manager is the reason we’re doing so well. Gareth Southgate on becoming England Manager ditched all the big name premaddonna showboating old guard, and instead selected twenty year old young men some who played in lower Leagues, a goal keeper who’s been loaned to clubs 10 times in his career TEN! If you asked a fan to name the fifty best players in England very few England players would feature. Before the World Cup most were not big stars, however they bought into Gareth’s grand plan for success and he moulded them into a well oiled footballing machine with an identity and purpose, just goes to show what teamwork can achieve in life.

So as of me sitting typing right this moment England haven’t played Croatia yet, but by the time I next log onto WordPress we’ll either be one step away from lifting that priceless golden Trophy or alas coming home on the next aeroplane.

So what of this Manager named Gareth Southgate? Well I’m not going to write another 450 words except to say sale’s of three piece suite waistcoats have gone through roof, flying off the shelves they are and as clothes models go, Gareth’s waistcoat could end up being one of the stars! In fact ‘Marks and Spencer’s’ have seen a 45% rise in sales and master tailors on ‘Savile Row’ have been reported as saying they cannot make enough to keep up with demand, so here’s to the  elegant sartorial footballing genius Gareth Southgate, the best dressed Manager in the World it’s official! And he’s a lovely honest guy who we should remember most people said shouldn’t have gotten the job of England Manager, me included.

Hmm what will I do with this post Thursday, send to Trash lol?

Below Gareth Southgate, as of now he’s a footballing genius and whatever happens there’s no getting away the guy has style AND he’ll end up a Night of The Realm, that’s the title of Sir Gareth Southgate!

Hmm do women think him sexy?

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A. Shepherdson using ‘borrowed media’.

(I’ve refrained from talking sport on this blog up to now, so this will probably be my first and last sport’s post)

Blenheim Palace photos pt2 (& Trump visit)

My photos and please download and save if you wish.

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I know I’ve written many times this is a politics and religion free blog, but Trump’s visit is more a carnival event rather than working visit, (he’s desperate to have tea with our Queen) now like you all I have personal opinions which I’ll refrain from sharing here……………….. only that if Trump is your guy, your chosen leader then that’s called Democracy in action.

Before I begin I will suggest before reading my Blenheim Palace pt2 you should go and look at the photos in Blenheim a photo post pt1, which I’ll ‘link here’, viewing will both help follow my thread of thought ands saves me having to repeat everything twice aka Trump’s visit! Thank you 🙂 .

So having visited pt1 you’ll now know MY photographs were taken walking around the beautiful Palace Parklands, glorious they were bathed in glorious August sunlight, however to begin with I wish to mention something of Trumps’ official UK visit next Friday! Just be aware Blenheim WILL be global news next weekend.

Number 10 confirmed Friday Donald Trump’s 4 day visit will avoid London, with one caveat, he and the wife will sleep one night at the Ambassador’s residency in Regent’s Park and well that’s all he’ll see of London! Incredible because historically Nixon Kennedy Bush Reagan and Obama have ALL visited Number 10 and the Houses of Parliament, shared tea with the Queen at Buck Palace but such is the threat of major demonstrations Trump is in effect banned from London. Our Capital City thank God hasn’t been suicide bombed in a while, and well I’d guess MI5 MI6 have advised against a visit for his and our own security………. all very sad.

Remember in pt1  lol told you he’d miss London in favour of Blenheim, I was right when I said ‘watch this space’ as I shared the fact Trump’s visit is little more than a stop over visit to Fortress Blenheim Palace, lol I told you so…………. ok someone I know who work’s in security informed me that he’d heard the mountain will be coming to Muhammad, the mountain being British establishment, Muhammad being of course Donald Trump.

Ok here’s a brief itinerary ‘yawn lol’ if you’d really like to know, such a shame because Obama was welcomed with open arms and well Trump IS an unwelcome liability. (Courtesy of Microsoft on-line).

  • The US President’s four-day tour will instead include a military parade at Winston Churchill’s birthplace of Blenheim Palace in Oxfordshire, talks with Theresa May at her Chequers country home, and tea with the Queen at Windsor Castle
  • Trump will spend just a few hours in the capital, when he overnights at the US Ambassador’s residence in Regent’s Park.
  • He will not visit Downing Street, Buckingham Palace or the Houses of Parliament, all of which are expected to feature the biggest protests ever seen during a visit by an American President.
  • The ‘working visit’ lacks the status of a full state visit, but organisers of the event on both sides of the Atlantic have tried to meet Trump’s demands for ceremonial pomp, a military theme and rounds of golf in Scotland.
  • Trump coalition is still planning a Carnival of Resistance across the entire country, and demonstrations – against Trump’s sexism, racism and treatment of migrants – are planned not just in central London but also some of the stops on his now public itinerary.
  • With some Britons expected to take days off work to attend the protest, the main demo in London next Friday will start outside the BBC’s headquarters and end at Trafalgar Square.
  • London Mayor Sadiq Khan has given the go-ahead for a giant “Trump baby” inflatable balloon to be tethered above Parliament Square.
    Amid security worries, intense secrecy has shrouded the President’s plans for months, but Downing Street finally announced details of the event on Friday.
    Trump will arrive on Thursday July 12, when he will come directly from the NATO summit in Brussels.
  • The Prime Minister will then host the President and the First Lady for a black-tie business dinner at Blenheim Palace, the ancestral home of the Spencer Churchill family. The event will begin with a military ceremony performed by the bands of the Scots, Irish and Welsh Guards. The bands will play the Liberty Fanfare, Amazing Grace, and the National Emblem.
  • During dinner, the Countess of Wessex’s Orchestra will perform a series of classic British and American hits. The Royal Regiment of Scotland will pipe the President out at the end.
  • Windsor Castle, where President Trump will meet Queen Elizabeth II next week
  • The next morning, the President and the Prime Minister will visit a defence site, yet to be made public, to witness “a demonstration of the UK’s cutting-edge military capabilities and integrated UK-US military training”.
  • Chequers for bilateral talks on a range of foreign policy issues, over a working lunch. Trump and May will then hold a joint press conference, the only point on the visit when media will have direct access to the President.
  • The President and the First Lady will then travel to Windsor Castle to meet The Queen, a key moment of the entire trip.
  • On Friday evening, they will travel to Scotland, where they will spend the weekend. It is understood that the British government will play no part in the Scottish leg of the trip as it is a ‘private element’ of the official visit.

Finally he is expected to travel largely via his ‘Marine One’ helicopter, so along with ‘Black Hawk’s’ ‘Apache’s’ and May’s helicopter Blenheim Grounds will resemble a Heliport!

Returning to my OWN Palace visit here are photos taken as I wandered the track that leads visitors around the stunning beautiful Parkland, new photos you’ll not see in pt1.

The guy wearing a green shirt, holding a blue rucksack and drinking lemon and lime is of course MEE!

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………………….. AND finally to conclude this rather mixed bag of a post, if you hadn’t heard of Blenheim Palace before July 2018…………watch the TV and you will sooon 🙂 .

A. Shepherdson 2018

 

I pulled a muscle in my back! (Response Post)

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I had a slight accident and Claudette’s post aches pains and injuries: welcome to your 40s and 50s came to mind, so I thought why not write a response post they’re always great fun and I like her blog.

..…………… and yes pulling muscles when you’re 50 is far from!

I had lived until the age of 50 having never broken a bone in my body, quite an amazing fact actually because most people I know have broken at least 1 bone in their lifetime, my sibling has broken no end playing various contact sports so I’d guess serious injury and pain is part of the fun? HOWEVER note cracks and the like are certainly nothing to be envied or hoped for!

Then last year I stumbled whilst walking through the centre of Town, hit my head on the pavement and fractured my cheekbone in 4 frigging places, that meant a lot of fuss an ambulance ride to Hospital, time off work, x-rays and countless Follow up visits, so please no more bone breaks ‘I’ve seen it done it and bought the tee-shirt!’

I HAVEN’T (finger’s crossed, touch wood, hope I’m not tempting fate) broken another bone and hope I never do but in life you just never know what’s around the corner, in fact we live our lives oblivious to what-ifs simply because we’d send ourselves insane trying to imagine every worst scenario possible.

A quick tale for you, last week I was in my kitchen preparing a salad for tea, washing lettuce, chopping tomatoes, grilling a jacket potato, constantly going back and forth to the fridge for cheese grapes radishes dip and an egg for boiling, I love eggs! Yes after boiling my egg and 10 mins later peeling the shell off I placed the steaming object on the kitchen work top, walked away, turned to see it rolling off the chopping board, lunged to try and catch it before hitting the floor and pulled a muscle in my back AND the boiled egg hit the floor!

Lol the pain was crippling, I could hardly get out of bed the next morning but I’m feeling much better now thanks for asking 😀 . 

On reflection I think Claudette’s posts hinted at the answer to aging and the body’s susceptibility to picking up aches and pains, I have a feeling the answer is no more complicated than applying gentle stretches to muscles groups but without the use of weights!………………… That knowledge comes from years of reading women’s magazines.

 

So my advice is take care of yourselves (and loved ones), and beware rolling hard boiled eggs. 

A. Shepherdson 2018.