
I happened to be walking around Dunwich Forest in Suffolk yesterday. It’s a calming place when you dodge the logging that is happening in a few places. Then I came upon a man with two spaniels. He was ahead of me on a winding path so occasionally he and his dogs disappeared from view as, gradually, Dog and I closed in. The path inclined upwards and he and his companions disappeared, again, behind some tall ferns. We followed them round the corner and…
The two dogs sat, all attention, staring at the high bracken. Of the man there was no sign. I smiled. He must have popped off the path for a comfort break still oblivious to my presence when…
Blow me – a deep and rich voice rose from the impenetrable foliage, singing Men of Harlech.
When I worked in a hotel one summer an aged guest – to my 19 year old eyes – used to pop to the gents on a pretty regular basis. After a couple of minutes, the distinct strains – I use that word advisedly – of Bread of Heaven emerged from behind the lavatory door and floated towards me, behind the bar, and his wife on a bar stool nearby. I must have looked confused at this karaoke accompaniment to his relief as his wife lent in and, in confidential tones, offered, ‘Waterworks problems. It’s either that bloody song or he whistles something from Cliff Richards’ back catalogue to get things flowing.’
As I stood by the patient dogs, I had to wonder if there was something essentially Welsh about this managed micturition. Or just their favourite hymns?
I decided my presence might be unwelcome given what I assumed transpired deep inside the undergrowth. I left the dogs to their sojourn and headed further into the trees. Maybe I should carry out a survey or just adopt the process as my own. Not at the rugby, obviously. My antipathy to having my true allegiance questioned outranks my need for swift relief…
Lol Geoff….. what a relief to know you escaped unseen and unsung. xx
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there are serenades one likes to pass by
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Indeed 😃
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Good Spaniels, I say.
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perfect poise
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Wonderful walk Geoff. The spaniels were well trained to wait.
I got caught short at Hengitsbury Head and Kizzy, my GSD kept guard.
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All sorts of things have happened to me in the Christchurch area, Di so a tiny tinkle on the head is to be understood…
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Ha! It was even more amazing as I usually cannot pee in a field, but that day I was desperate!
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I have only ever heard of people singing in the shower, Geoff. Lovely summertime photographs.
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One likes to think, in the shower, the singing has a different purpose…
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I always sing in fairy forests! To let them know I’m there of course. But they’re too shy to come to me!
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They’re probably too busy taking a leak as a result of your corralling them
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That is hilarious. I have never heard of such a thing, so maybe it is confined to your side of the ocean.
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well, I hope so; though it does make one wonder at the Italians and their passions for grand opera… perhaps they are lacking a certain fluidity
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Too funny.
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First I heard of singing to persuade the waterworks to open. On the other hand, in many a British novel, a character has asked “are you taking the piss?”
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quite; we British are rather focused on our waterworks. My father swore by whistling but I’m sure there were other life lessons where his advice was more effective…
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I particularly liked the rugby allegiance joke
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there are people who think I’m French.. I mean, please..
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🙂
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A good laugh on a walk! But really, something from Keith Richards gets the water flowing??
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Not often water…
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Anything that engages the diaphragm, I suppose. 🙂
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Yes that must be it…
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