Reality Thins #99wordstories #carrotranch

Posted on Jun 9, 2023 by TanGental

This week’s prompt is

June 6, 2023, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about a lost book (or many). What is the book’s significance? Who lost it, or who found it? How does this element fit into a poem, memory, or a specific genre? Go where the prompt leads!

Reality Thins

In Little Tittweaking, reality thins alarmingly, allowing access to parallel universes. Books and keys regularly pass through to more sympathetic environments. Misplaced house keys are turned right round when someone opens doors for them, while lost paperbacks stiffen their spines, turn new pages and refuse to be shelved. Sometimes the plaintive whispers of muted audiobooks may be heard talking their way across, while ebooks join dating sites to form unlikely series with gbooks, pbooks and other alphabet works. Only graphic books are eschewed, still sneered at as mere comics. But they know that they will have the last laugh…

Posted in #99wordstories, Carrot Ranch Congress of Rough Writers, creative writing, flash fiction, humour, little Tittweaking, miscellany | Tagged , , , , | 12 Comments

Life, DEATH and other Characters

Posted on Jun 8, 2023 by TanGental

There are days when things don’t go according to plan. Often these are beyond our control.

Then there are those…

Anyway, John Howell, a most generous host promoted my latest offering on his blog,

FICTION FAVOURITES

Which you can find here, but most importantly, find his blog and his delightful musings.

Thank you, John.

And I’ve had a review…

Top review from the United States

5.0 out of 5 stars Easy reading and fun!

Reviewed in the United States 🇺🇸 on June 7, 2023

Goodness me, does Mr. Le Pard think out of the box. These short short stories (I guess they’re called flash fiction) contain fanciful twists on everything from Santa Claus to vampires to the backyard Fairy Mafia. I particularly enjoyed Le Pard’s way of tossing in the odd phrase. “Lune in a Tic,” “gonads glowing” to name just a few.

Posted in miscellany | 20 Comments

Stewing Nicely #limericks

Posted on Jun 8, 2023 by TanGental

This week’s #limerick prompt is stew. Here we go…

When Adam emerged from primordial stew,
He was meant to remain without a clue;
But an apple’s magic,
Turned him priapic
And for ever after, what a to do!

They’ve cancelled Shakespeare because one stew
Contained some things that are frankly ‘eew’;
It took some pluck
To change it to duck
On whose arse we are told we have to chew.

Posted in limericks | Tagged | 8 Comments

Comparative June #garden

Posted on Jun 7, 2023 by TanGental

June 2017

June 2018

June 2019

June 2020

June 2021

June 2022

June 2023

Posted in gardens, miscellany | Tagged | 16 Comments

Milk Monitoring

Posted on Jun 6, 2023 by TanGental

The Welcome Collection, based near Euston Station in Central London often has interesting and intriguing exhibitions. It’s latest is on milk, its history, biology and social impact as a human food.

We went with a skip in our steps. This could be both informative and fascinating.

There was a large sculpture hanging in the first hall – a cow’s udder that was also a pendulous milk laden breast. The panel commentary made a point about conflicts between breast feeding v formula, the politics of milk. It was set against a traditional exhibit of Victorian cow shaped cream jugs.

That was about the last of what one might consider to be a normal exhibit.

Fair enough. I can recall my mother telling me she was pressed to feed the Archaeologist and me formula because of its perceived benefits and convenience (she was also offered thalidomide for morning sickness but that a whole other lucky escape).

I anticipated a debate over misogyny in the medical professions, back in the day, the male doctors knowing best, ignoring the female experience.

And there was a bit of this, to be fair. But it wasn’t the only or even main totem being speared. Nope. Milk = white privilege was probably the main message, its use being a tool of racial division, colonialism and oppression.

Don’t misunderstand me. It made valid points, like the British telling East African farmers how best to ranch using essentially UK learnt processes and ignoring the local conditions. And it cited some cases in America that clearly contained a significant racial component. There were several examples where these propositions where manifestly likely to be the case.

There was a video clip towards the end, from the last few years of apparent Trump supporters drinking milk for its whiteness. It was highly unpleasant.

But the suggestion, for instance that the use of white coats in the milk parlours of the 1920s was made with some sort of institutionally racist remit behind it (rather than white coats show the dirt best and therefore better reveal the unsanitary conditions the Government vets were trying to combat) felt a stretch. And what of the series of adverts in the 1930s emphasising how milk is good for healthy children that only used white children as examples was in part for racist reasons? In the 1930s we had less than half of one percent of our population from ethnic minorities. In the 50s it was some 20,000 against a population nearing 50 million. Was it really a surprise that it contained only white children?

Somehow the curators have got themselves in a knot, by virtue signalling their credentials as a modern, self aware operation that is determined to own up to the sins of its founders’ pasts. They probably meant well; it may even have made them feel worthy of their privileged position. I’m just rather disappointed that they felt the need to squeeze out a theory from, frankly, a thin gruel of evidence rather than focus on the bigger scandal – namely the grotesque misogyny that has pervaded society and especially in relation to childbirth, child rearing and motherhood – for pretty much ever.

Both topics: the ingrained patriarchal nature of society and the everyday being used as a tool of colonialist control and oppression are topics worthy of debate. But there’s a need for proportionality and contextualising that was lost.

By the end, I did feel an opportunity had been missed.

Still the very last room took us past a series of sculptures which had some tangential links to milk. They at least were making a point about waste which I could understand. Sort of.

Posted in exhibitions, miscellany | Tagged , , | 35 Comments

Italian Sauce #writephoto

Posted on Jun 5, 2023 by TanGental

This week’s #writephoto prompt is

Gary Baldy poked at his boat, the Silver Dollar. It failed to react. He poked harder.

‘Yes?’

‘You ready, Dollar.’

‘I feel depressed.’

‘No more sinking feelings….’

‘Easy for you to say. You’re young, still got all your hair and teeth…’

Gary had a little preen; nothing too ostentatious, but Dollar was right. He did have good hair. And teeth. All the girls said so. ‘You don’t have hair. Or teeth.’

‘Thanks for reminding me. It’s no wonder the girls fawn over you.’

‘I saw you bumping that cute little dingy last week. Why’d you stop?’

‘Too stern for me. Had me in knots. All I asked is if she fancied a quick blow…’

‘You have a way with euphemisms.’

‘Look, Gary. I’m flat bottomed, I list and I can’t remember the last time anyone managed to raise my mast…’

‘Can we stop this? The customers don’t want you moping about…’

‘And there’s another thing. What about some mopping out. I’m up to my gunwales in your bilge.’

‘I can always sell you, you know. Get a perky little catamaran.’

‘You, get a cat? Oh sure that’ll help the cute sailor boy image. Though I suppose having a little pussy…’

‘Enough. I’ll leave you to think about your behaviour and if you haven’t found a better attitude… I’ll be in my cabin…’

‘All right for you. You can go down below any time while I…’

‘That’s it. You’re history. Get this. You’re gone Dollar.’

‘Could be worse. At least as a gone Dollar someone might pole me up my Grand Canal…’

Posted in #writephoto, creative writing, flash fiction, humour, miscellany | Tagged , , , | 12 Comments

Really? Seriously? #99wordstories

Posted on Jun 4, 2023 by TanGental

Sometimes a prompt is just so extraordinary that it’s almost impossible to follow it. This week’s from the #carrotranch is

May 30, 2023, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about a beaver slap. It can be an actual tail slap warning on the water or an imitation. Is a beaver slap the name of something — a new type of burger, perfume, or a sci-fi gadget? Take ecological and poetic licenses. Go where the prompt leads!

Beaver Slap

Little Tittweaking’s Police Constables, Belle Ende and Dick Edd felt fully prepared for their shift. As part of extending the force’s inclusivity training, both had just returned from a course on counter-euphemism. It wasn’t unusual to be called out to the Beaver Slap, the town’s novelty emporia that stocked all accessories for the discerning dominatrix. The report suggested the incident involved a theft by some American visitors who’d been snatching packed fannies. After intensive questioning, the police issued a warning when it became clear the packed fannies were their own and the visitors were only intent on taking liberties.

Posted in #99wordstories, Carrot Ranch Congress of Rough Writers, creative writing, flash fiction, humour, little Tittweaking, miscellany | Tagged , , , , | 20 Comments

When Is A Door Not A Door #shortfiction

Posted on Jun 3, 2023 by TanGental

This is for another challenge I spotted here. Hope its in time

‘Where?’

‘There.’

‘What do you see?’

‘You got me up for twenty sodding questions?’

‘Humour me?’

‘Logan, it’s five in the morning on the longest day. I’m standing in wet grass by a ruin without having had either a coffee or a poo and you’re auditioning for a pub quiz…’

‘What do you see?’

‘A wall. Grass. Flowers. A door…’

‘Exactly!’

‘Oh, give me strength. Which of wall, grass, flowers or door has given you a random stiffy…?’

‘That’s really rather crude.’

‘CRUDE! I want my bed, not some architectural Kim’s game but, oh no, you damn near break in, drag me here on the pretext of the most exciting thing that’s happened in Dollop on the Nadge since Oliver Cromwell stopped for a pee on his way to Worcester and show me an ancient monument which, unless you really are the utter numpty I’ve always suspected WE SAW YESTERDAY! And you’re offended by my defence to your priapic response to  a random list of visual clues… Well, forgive me for being PISSED OFF.’

‘Look!’

‘Oh what now? Did you take a picture of your bum on the photo copier again?’

‘That was an accident. Look. I took this yesterday.’

‘Not another bloody selfie with…???’

‘You’ve seen it, haven’t you?’

‘Is this the same spot? You sure?’

‘See that ridge and those green ferns, like mildewed armadillo bums sticking out. They’re the same. Only now there’s…’

‘… a door? How does a door like that appear overnight? Is it real?’

‘How do you mean? Knock it if you like.’

‘It sounds real enough. How does a door appear?’

‘Extreme carpentry?’

‘Oh sure. Like… someone’s coming! This is too weird.’

‘Should we, you know, scarper?’

‘We’re not ten year olds ringing the doorbell and running away, you muppet. I want to find out…’

‘HALLO. CAN I HELP?’

‘Is he speaking in capitals?’

‘Yes. Hello. We were wondering…’

‘ABOUT THE DOOR? PEOPLE OFTEN WONDER HOW IT HAPPENS.’

‘Yes, how can a door appear…’

‘NOT THE DOOR. THAT’S NOT WHAT PEOPLE WONDER ABOUT.’

‘No? It’s bloody odd.’

‘IS IT? IT HAPPENS ALL THE TIME. I COULDN’T DO MY JOB IF I DIDN’T HAVE A DOOR READY.’

‘Couldn’t you?’

‘WELL I SUPPOSE YOU MIGHT HAVE A CURTAIN BUT IT LACKS THE EXPECTED SUBSTANCE, DON’T YOU THINK? PEOPLE EXPECT A CERTAIN FINALITY. NOTHING LIKE A DOOR SLAMMING BEHIND YOU TO SIGNIFY CLOSURE.’

‘Look, sorry, and I really don’t mean to press but really, what are you doing here?’

‘ME? YOU KNOW WHO I AM?’

‘Sorry, no. A clue maybe?’

{SIGHS} ‘SKELETAL FIGURE, BLACK CLOAK, SPEAKS IN CAPITALS?’

‘Nope, unless you’re some sort of caretaker.’

‘I SUPPOSE YOU COULD SAY THAT. HANG ON, WHAT ABOUT THIS? WHERE DID I PUT…? OH, HERE WE GO. TADA!’

‘A scythe? Old school farmhand?’

‘OH FOR GOODNESS SAKE. TRY THIS.’ {COUGHS AND BOOMS} ‘YOUR TIME HAS COME!!!!’

‘Oh yes! You’re the grim thingy…’

‘Cutter…?’

‘Mower…?’

‘REAPER.’

‘That’s it! I never knew you brought a door.’

‘HOW DO YOU THINK I GET INTO THIS WORLD AND THEN OUT AGAIN? MAGIC?’

‘I hadn’t really thought…’

‘NO, WELL YOU LOT DON’T, DO YOU? IT’S ALL ABOUT WILFUL IGNORANCE, PLAUSIBLE DENIABILITY. SOME OF YOU DON’T EVEN THINK I EXIST. REALLY THE EDUCATION STANDARDS THESE DAYS ARE DREADFUL.’

‘This is soo cool. What’s the other side? Of the door?’

‘THE HALL.’

‘Is that all?’

‘OF COURSE NOT. THERE’S A CHOICE. ONCE YOU COME THROUGH THE FRONT DOOR AND IT’S CLOSED… DID I SAY IT HAS A REALLY SATISFYING TERMINAL THWUNK WHEN IT SHUTS? ONCE IT HAS SHUT MY GUEST CHOOSES HIS OR HER HEREAFTER. HEAVEN, VALHALLA, HALLS OF ODIN, THAT SORT OF THING.’

‘Can we.. you know..  take a peek?’

‘I’M NOT MEANT TO…’

‘Are there demons? Wailings and gnashings? Boiling oil?’

‘OH, YES. THE WHOLE FIRE AND BRIMSTONE. GO ON, BE QUICK.’

‘Oooo… is that…?

‘TRIDENT SPIKING? IT’S GOOD, ISN’T IT?’

‘Wow. Could I maybe, you know, get a quick snap?’

‘ANOTHER SELFIE? I SUPPOSE, IF YOU’RE QUICK. HOW DO YOU WANT ME?’

‘How about with the scythe raised and teeth bared… no perhaps not that. I know, hood up, face hidden. Perfect. See I told you it was worth getting up early?’

‘I hate to admit it, but you were right? Look, thanks Mr Death…’

‘I’VE STARTED USING DE’ATH. SOFTENS IT FOR THE SNOWFLAKE GENERATION. APPARENTLY IT’S ALL ABOUT BUILDING A BRAND.’

‘Yes, I like it. I guess you need to stand out from other Harbingers Of Doom? We’d better be off. I guess you’ll need to be getting off to whoever’s turn it is, won’t you?’

‘OH, I THOUGHT YOU’D HAVE TWIGGED. IT’S YOU TWO.’

‘Us?’

‘Both of us?’

‘Together?’

‘EXACTLY. WHY DO YOU THINK YOU COULD SEE THE DOOR? NOW, YOU SEE THAT PLANE?’

‘Yes?’

‘IN FIVE FOUR THREE TWO…’

‘Arghhhh!!’

‘… A JET ENGINE WILL FALL ON YOU BOTH. PRETTY UNLUCKY, I SUPPOSE, UNLESS YOU COUNT INSTANT OBLITERATION AS A PLUS….’

‘We did get to see you…’

‘Not everyone can say that…’

‘WELL TECHNICALLY ANYONE FOR WHOM THE SANDS OF TIME HAVE RUN THEIR COURSE GETS TO SEE ME….’

‘Yes but we saw you when we were alive…’

‘And The selfie? I bet I’m getting loads of likes on Instagram…’

‘I’M PLEASED YOU CAN TAKE THE POSITIVES. SO MANY PEOPLE JUST WANT TO MOAN. NOW, LET’S JUST CLOSE THE DOOR… THERE.  WE CAN RUN THROUGH A FEW FORMALITIES AND YOU CAN BE ON YOUR WAY…’

Posted in flash fiction | Tagged , , | 40 Comments

That Garden #May #Garden

Posted on Jun 2, 2023 by TanGental

Another month, less rain – a lot less – a lot of growth – some stress – a dead tree removed – lots of planting – progress on the veg – and only five weeks to yet another party (the Vet’s 30th) with, oh, 120 close friends… why did we (ok, me) say yes this time last year? Oh well, we’ve planted with the first week in July in mind. Now we can water and wait…

These pictures are from the 15th to 22nd and from both front and back..

And these are from 23rd to 31st, front and back

And then there’s Dog….

Posted in gardening | 21 Comments

Two Fears, One Limerick

Posted on Jun 1, 2023 by TanGental

I entered a contest, wrote a limerick. It covered two major concerns of mine. The prompt was cheese…

Like Ben Gunn in Treasure Island I have a thing about cheese. I’ve wondered if I could become a vegetarian. I did try but bacon eventually defeated me. I went further, briefly, when I was persuaded by my son to try veganism. I knew it wouldn’t last. It was okay, ish, but, beside bacon, I missed eggs and their versatility. Mostly though it was the lack of cheese. If you’ve tried vegan cheese, well, good for you, but really it’s terrible. A sort of coconut thing that just isn’t. So if climate change requires me to ditch that part of dairy, I’m done.

The other thing, quite a bugbear of mine, is the lack of a legal structure in the UK permitting some form of assisted dying. It is an utter disgrace that every poll shows a large majority in favour of something, anything but the politicians that represent us refuse to reflect that. Bastards. I’ve heard all sorts of guff about opening floodgates on duplicitous relatives putting the squeeze on some doddery aunt or whatever, but there is eff-all evidence in the countries where it is allowed that that is any sort of risk, let alone a meaningful one. And on the other hand there are many going through hell with a wasting disease that prevents them taking their own life, or risking a caring relative being arrested for helping said victim of this cruelty by taking them somewhere compassionate that does allow it.

I find most political parties irritating and frankly arrogant. I’ve never found one with which I’ve agreed on all its policies when I get to an election. So since my first vote in 1975, I’ve dabbled with all the main parties, I’ve gone green and Monster Raving Loony and every one has been a rather unsatisfactory compromise of the least-worst kind.

Next time I have the opportunity to put a cross in a box, I will ask the local candidates if they will support assisted dying. I will go ‘single issue’ with my vote. That might mean I vote for a flat-earther, some egregious populist or the plonker who last time wanted free beer. But if they promise me they’ll support AD, they will get my vote.

My limerick?

If I can no longer enjoy my cheese
Then would you put me at my ease:
Stop me crying,
Assist my dying:
Take my throat and give it a squeeze…

Actually, there was another contest, where another of the (many) bugbears in my life surfaced in limerick form (the prompt here was dumb)

When our PM (tosser) did succumb
To offering a referendum
On staying or going
I had no way of knowing
We’d do anything quite so dumb…

Posted in limericks, politics, thought piece | Tagged , , , , | 19 Comments