Author: tidalscribe.com

Tuesday Tale – Wood Smoke

~ tidalscribe.com ~ 21 Comments

The scent of the wood smoke brought back a memory. We were having a wood burner installed, my mother’s latest idea, all the rage then. No chopping wood as we do now, neatly bound stacks of suitable timber, factory sawn into identical chunks. They were delivered straight into the new designer wood store which provided enough cover to keep it dry, but still visible to impress the neighbours. It was my twelfth birthday and I took for granted our nice house, loving parents, good school and a host of activities. I was not spoilt, just happy, with everything to look forward to. Life was led at a frantic pace, but my friends’ families were just as frenetic. Our parents took turns ferrying us around to ballet classes, riding lessons, sleepovers. Several of us had auditioned for Britain’s Got Talent and were busy rehearsing, making our parents’ lives even busier. I felt a mixture of excitement and frustration that rehearsals were impinging on my precious riding lessons and the chance to go to the jumping competition. All that was missing was a pony of my own. Would I get one for my birthday?

Was I to blame for not caring about the rest of the world? My parents did not either. Later on, my mother would claim they were too busy working and looking after us. Chloe my sixteen year old sister did enough worrying for all of us, Eco Warrior Dad called her. She would inspect the Waitrose delivery to check if the food was healthy and correctly sourced. That week she was insisting she no longer flew and would not be coming on the plane with us for our Easter holiday. Dad retorted that the plane was going anyway so what difference would her absence make to the environment.

The camp fire crackled and I looked at my twelve year old granddaughter in the firelight. A love of horses was all we had in common, but she jumped raging streams and thorny hedges, not painted poles in a show ring. When she was little she adored stories of my childhood, now my memories bored her. I suppose they were always just fairy tales to her.

I didn’t get a pony for my birthday, unless they were keeping it as a surprise, but I did get lots of gifts, gaudy colourful teen stuff that I can’t recall now. Chloe had donated her pocket money to the children of Gaza instead. I knew about Gaza, but I did not see how her money would get there or help them. For my eleventh birthday she had given on my behalf to the children of Ukraine and that hadn’t stopped the war.

Those places were far away and my Piza party was what my friends were thinking about. Wood fired pizza, another smoky irony; tonight my seventieth birthday treat was on a spit, the young deer my grandson had shot.

I felt laughter suddenly well up. Chloe had not remained a vegetarian for long after it all happened. She was gone now of course. I was the only one left to remember those times. Dad had come home early; the only thing that was useful about his job in the media was that he was aware sooner than most of what was about to happen.

‘We’re leaving in half an hour, up to Cheshire, meet up with Uncle Alex, he’s found a salt mine.’

‘What the hell are you talking about’ said my mother.

‘What about Britain’s Got Talent’ I said.

Dad’s brother Alex was a scientist, Chloe’s favourite relative. Dad gabbled a few curt explanations in between his exhortations to get ready.

‘Shelter, safety, get out while we can.’

Chloe cheered and hugged Dad.  ‘At last, one of my parents is going to break out of this smug middle class life and break into reality.’

 She had her rucksack ready, packed a year ago to prepare for any and every emergency, war, pandemic, wild fires, floods…

Reality was far worse than Chloe could ever have bargained for, but she toughed it out and survived. My riding skills turned out to be invaluable. I got my pony, but not in the way I had dreamed of.

All I have are memories now. It has been a harsh life, but not all bad and I have been very lucky to survive till the agreed limit. Lucky to survive at all, there weren’t many of us. The human race always finds a way, but individuals have not been important for most of our history. Tomorrow they will break camp again, but this time I will not be going with them.

Monday Moments

~ tidalscribe.com ~ 26 Comments

How long is a moment? Perhaps as long as the BBC time pips which are celebrating their centenary this very day.

 ‘The pips have been broadcast daily since 5 February 1924 and were the idea of the Astronomer Royal and the head of the BBC.

Originally they would have helped people set their watches and clocks to the exact time, now our phones, radios and many of our clocks are connected by magic to the beating heart of the universe. Though some say the National Physical Laboratory is responsible.

The pips for national radio stations are timed from an atomic clock  in the basement of BBC Broadcasting House synchronised with the National Physical Laboratory.

 There are six pips which occur on each of the 5 seconds leading up to the hour and on the hour itself. The first five last a tenth of a second each, while the final pip lasts half a second. The actual moment when the hour changes is at the very beginning of the last pip. I checked the clock on my radio and sure enough the clock changed to the hour exactly on the last pip. Looking up more facts surrounding our precious pips and how the whole world keeps time can lead you down a rabbit hole, perhaps you will even meet Alice in Wonderland’s White Rabbit with his pocket watch. But do we still need the pips?  Yes, they are a precious few moments when broadcasters actually stop talking, a moment of peace before we are weighed down by the latest round of news.

https://www.bbc.com/historyofthebbc/anniversaries/february/the-pips

What time is it where you are? What do you rely on to check the time?

Thursday Thoughts A-Z

~ tidalscribe.com ~ 24 Comments

One often learns something new from Facebook. APRICITY is the comforting warmth of the winter sun. Sunlight comes about 93 million miles and then gets blocked out by one little cloud or a building. If you find a sunny spot it is bliss.

Most of our local buses have a running commentary to tell you which stop is coming up next, very handy if it’s dark, torrential rain or torrential rain on a dark night. Especially useful if you are blind. I wonder who the anonymous voice is, perhaps an out of work actor. On an unfamiliar route recently a very jolly voice announced a stop then added ‘Alight here for the crematorium.’ Two stops further on he cheerfully announced ‘The next stop is Cemetery Junction, Cemetery Junction.’ Even dead passengers are assisted.

Fact is stranger than fiction. Since I wrote Tuesday’s tiny tale ‘Whatever the Weather’ we have had Storm Ingunn, named by the Norwegians. Apparently the Faroe Islands may have been hit by winds up to 155 miles an hour. I bet Gail Macleod is there reporting.

If your closest contact with wildlife is watching Mr. Fox trotting down the road in broad daylight or Roland Rat scurrying across the back lawn you will enjoy blogs from the African continent.

Robbie Cheadle shares some beautiful photos and we learn a lot.

https://writingtoberead.com/2024/01/24/in-touch-with-nature-giraffes-chew-bones-and-lions-eat-grass-animalkingdom-natureconser

 Scuba Hank NYC is usually underwater, but has been on safari lately and his latest clip of a lovely Zebra set me thinking. Other members of the horse family were domesticated millennia ago. As far as we know Zebras never have been. It’s like the elephant conundrum. Asian elephants have been dragging logs and dressing up in beautiful garments to carry royalty for a very long time and more recently entertaining in circuses, while African elephants seem to have remained independent, or have they? Hannibal took 37 North African elephants over the Alps to give The Romans a fright. They had never seen elephants before so no doubt they did get a surprise. His plan worked, but sadly most of the elephants died of the cold that winter.  African elephants no doubt decided to avoid ever getting involved with humans again.

Up Close with a Stunning Zebra – South Africa

If you have seen a zebra steeplechase or watched zebra dressage, let us know.

Tuesday Tiny Tale 369 -Whatever The Weather

~ tidalscribe.com ~ 16 Comments

And in tonight’s news Storm Zelda has arrived. Red warnings remain in place for the whole of the British Isles. Experts say it is unprecedented to have had twenty six named storms in the first month of the year. Travel plans have already been thrown into chaos. All flights are being diverted to Reykjavik and many train journeys have been cancelled after landslides on several mainlines. The M1, M3, M6 and other motorways have experienced flooding and the RAC is advising drivers not to travel, even if it is absolutely necessary.

The RNLI is warning people to stay away from coastal areas. Mandy Mariner is speaking to us from Cornwall.

‘We are a volunteer organisation and no crew will be volunteering to go out tonight in this weather. People don’t realise that you can be sucked out to sea in seconds by wind and waves, so please do not go sightseeing, Instagram and Facebook are not worth risking your life for.’

His Majesty’s Coastguard has reinforced this warning, especially as all their helicopters are now grounded. In an emergency call 999 Coastguard, better still, avoid emergencies.

And in a dramatic move Deliveroo have suspended all deliveries.

For more details on tonight’s weather we go over to Gail Macleod who is on the end of the pier at Easton-super-Mare.

‘Wind speeds of up to 150 miles an hour have been recorded here this a…ft..er…noon an~~ emr~~~gen~~ ser~~~ ha~~ wa~~~

We seem to have lost Gail for a moment and we apologise for the sound quality of that report. So let’s go back to Sonny Dai in the studio and take a closer look at the weather map.

Welcome to Point of View and we start with your views on coverage of Storm Zelda. Delia Baxter sent us this email

‘How reckless of the BBC to send reporters out in Storm Zelda. Gail Macleod was out in the elements and not even wearing a hat, what sort of example is that?’

We managed to contact Gail, at present sheltering on an oil rig in the North Sea. She sent us this message.

‘I was wearing a nice warm hat, but unfortunately it blew away, along with my umbrella.’

Tuesday Tiny Tale – Discovery

~ tidalscribe.com ~ 18 Comments

‘What do you mean, dead in the bed?’

‘I tried to wake him but there was no response.’

‘But what was he doing in the bed, who was he?’

‘A customer I presume, we find them sometimes in the morning, can’t find their way out and settle in for the night.’

‘But surely security do the rounds at closing time?’

‘Well it’s a very big store and five floors… ‘

The new young manager of LIKE stared at the customer care assistant, he was beginning to get an inkling why his predecessor may have resigned.

‘And when you find live customers in bed what do you do?’

‘Wake them up and give them a voucher for breakfast in the restaurant.’

‘That sounds fair enough.’

Live customers were so much easier to deal with. The manager wondered what the protocol for dead customers was, probably too late to try out the new defibrillator. He looked at the time, the store had been open for five minutes already. Sweet Dreams was on the top floor, but unfortunately so was the customer entrance from the car park.

 ‘Does anyone else know about this?’

‘No, only Val the cleaner, she skedaddled up to the staff canteen to have a cup of tea and get over the shock.’

‘Er, um ‘ Dean isn’t it,’ he tried to surreptitiously read the chap’s badge ‘get yourself right back there and head off any customers while I call security… Oh what did the bo…the customer look like?’

‘Very peaceful, with the LIKE swan down king sized duvet tucked up round his chin, could even have been part of the display.’

‘Security? Benson here… Jeremy Benson, no I’m your new manager, who’s in charge today? Suspended, so who is in temporary charge?… Brian? Jeremy Benson here, get up to Sweet Dreams immediately, we have a problem, I’ll meet you there. How many bedroom displays? Twenty seven, well look for the one with an occupied bed.’

It was Saturday morning and the store was buzzing already, just how he had imagined his dream job, but now a busy store was a nightmare. If news got out of this in the town or to their competitors it didn’t bear thinking of.

Two security women confronted him, he flashed his ID card and they looked vaguely embarrassed and very amused.

‘Is Brian here? Good, show me where the incident took place.’

Benson vowed to get to grips with the store layout as one of the women led him through a maze of three walled bedrooms and voluptuous bedding.

‘Good morning Brian, thanks for being so prompt.’

‘I presume you have called the police?’

‘NO! … I mean let’s assess the situation first.’

He stared at the luxury faux bedroom, which was much nicer than his own humble abode; who wouldn’t want to stay the night. He had never actually seen a dead body, perhaps this was a joke, a dummy from the Love Living show rooms.

‘Are we sure he is actually dead Brian?

‘Of course he’s bloody dead, I was with the ambulance service for twenty years, I thought this job would be nice and peaceful.’

‘So what is your normal security procedure?’

‘Usually the customers are not actually dead; they drop with exhaustion or have a panic attack when they can’t find the way out. Though we did have a heart attack victim the other week, first aid officer attended, paramedics came promptly and worked on him, that was when it was decided to get defibrillators.’

 ‘And did the customer survive?’

‘No, but luckily LIKE were cleared of any blame, natural causes.’

Benson looked around for inspiration as to what should be done. He spotted an assistant pushing a large trolley full of duvets and pillows.

‘Well Brian I think our first priority is removal. We don’t want to spoil our customer’s day by suggesting anything is amiss.’

Silly Saturday – Glass and Frosted Grass

~ tidalscribe.com ~ 22 Comments

When your neighbour’s greenhouse is bigger than yours.

When Dracula’s roof needs repairing.

A seat in the sun.

Or perhaps you would prefer to linger with a beach view.

But don’t linger too long.

Or you could sit in the warm in an American diner…

…and still be by the English seaside.

When you order a game on Amazon and get the German version. At least it comes mit 2 mini-erweiterungen. If you haven’t played Qwirkle it’s good fun and you can probably guess it can be played in any language! The rules come in several languages, none of them English; well we shouldn’t smugly assume there is always an English translation. The omission of English is probably due to Brexit, another annoyance for we Remainers! Luckily I found a good YouTube video ( American ) on how to play when friends came over to be introduced to the game.

How was your Saturday?

Tuesday Tale – Mistake

~ tidalscribe.com ~ 26 Comments

The day got off to a bad start when I put the remote control in my bag instead of my phone.

As John was away on his business trip to Taiwan I was taking the car to work. Oliver rushed out the door saying ‘Bye Mum, don’t forget we’re all going round Roache’s tonight and I’m staying over ready for the match tomorrow.’

I had forgotten and had no idea who Roach was or where he lived. Since we moved to the new house Oliver spent even less time at home and frequently reminded us he had not wanted to move. But as John said, Oliver would be off to uni. next year and we couldn’t miss the opportunity to move to a place that was perfect for us, with room for John to work from home. The new estate was a good few stations further out from our old house and the town, but Oliver could get to school and me to work on the train.

I looked forward to a peaceful Friday evening. I could get a big shop on the way home as I had the car, a bottle of wine perhaps and Piza delivered.

I didn’t notice my mistake till I was in the office and went to check if John had left a message. The others thought it hilarious when I brandished the remote control.

‘Well it’s either the menopause or the stress of moving that’s done my brain in.’ I joined in their laughter.

I was always complaining Oliver never put his phone down for five minutes, so I was sure I could cope without my phone for one day.

At lunchtime I started to realise the implications of my mistake. How would I pay for lunch in the canteen? In my phone case was my bank card, but half the time I didn’t use that, I paid for things with my phone. ‘No one carries a purse around these days Mother’ Oliver had said frequently. Annie offered to pay. If I had known what lay ahead I would have had a good hot meal instead of a sandwich. Shopping was off my agenda, but I didn’t need anything urgently and why waste my precious evening going round the busy supermarket.

I drove home in a good mood, no waiting on a chilly platform for a train that might not come because of strikes or yet another landslide with all this rain we had been having. The sat nav came in handy because now it was dark I was not so sure I knew the way to our new house. Finally I was on the dark road by the common, home was not far and I would be glad to spot the street lights of the estate. But what I spotted were blue flashing lights, red flashing lights, yellow lights… what was going on? A yellow jacket flagged me down and I noticed barriers across the road.  I was not sure who or what the yellow jacket was. A woman’s voice spoke.

‘Good evening Madam, police, I’m afraid we have set road blocks up, there has been an incident, or rather there is an ongoing incident, or I should say we are preparing for a major incident.’

‘What do you mean, it’s so quiet here. Which way shall I go, I have to get home.’

‘I’m afraid several roads are in lockdown, are you a local?’

‘Oakdene Avenue.’

‘I am sorry, but Oakdene Avenue is at the centre of the incident.’

‘What sort of incident?’

‘I’m afraid I can’t disclose that.’

‘But what am I supposed to do, my husband’s in Taiwan.’

‘The other residents popped to friends’ or to the Harvester I think. Are you in the Oakdene Neighbourhood Whatsap group?’

‘No, we just moved in, I don’t know anybody.’

‘Give me your phone number and I will add your name, then you will get update messages and we can let you know if we have to arrange overnight accommodation for residents.’

‘I left my phone at home…’

Before I could say any more another car pulled up behind me and she left to give them the bad news.

On the pavement I saw a poor old lady standing alone. More to comfort myself than her I got out and went over.

‘I just got off the bus, oh dear, do you know what’s going on?’

‘No idea, we just moved into Oakdene Avenue and my husband’s in Taiwan and my son’s gone round to Roache’s house and I left my phone at home…’

‘Never mind, you can borrow my phone and call your son, or a friend.’

That’s when I realised I knew no one’s numbers, family or friends. Numbers stored in my phone, just tap the name you wanted to call…

‘I suppose you don’t remember the numbers, modern technology’ she chuckled ‘never mind dear, why don’t I call our local taxi company for you, they are very good.’

Where would I go, even if I had any means to pay the driver I had no idea where Roach lived. I heard a car draw up.

‘Oh here’s my lift, lucky I had my phone, I called my brother. My sister-in-law will have a good hot dinner waiting.’

And there she was gone. More emergency vehicles kept arriving, but I couldn’t see my police officer. I got back in the car to warm up and scrabbled around in the glove box for the car park purse. There should be enough change to buy a cup of coffee, perhaps even some chips in the café at that Tesco superstore a few miles back up the road. I could sit in the warm, restore my equilibrium then drive back to see if it was all clear. There should be plenty of change, we always paid for car parks with our phone these days…  I couldn’t find the purse. I recalled John tidying up the car ‘Don’t know why we still keep this old purse in here.’

Plan, plan, think of a plan. The logical thing would be to drive back to where we used to live, though it was a good distance and not an easy drive in the dark. Who would I call on? Cassandra and Dan were in Australia. Other friends, a bit embarrassing as I had failed to send any Christmas cards in the madness of moving and hadn’t even sent any text messages. Nobody wants to be disturbed on a dark winter’s night when they are all cosy at home. What on earth would I say, the whole situation sounded ridiculous. On this dark cold lonely night I wondered how many real friends I had back in the old neighbourhood. Probably only Cassandra. There was only one way to find out who was in and who might offer a welcome.

I started the engine and various warning lights started flashing. I recalled John’s parting words ‘I’ll miss you Darling, oh by the way, the tank’s nearly on empty so make sure you fill her up when you leave in the morning.’

Friday Fiction Focus

~ tidalscribe.com ~ 12 Comments

I was reading a story on Annika Perry’s blog and one of the phrases sounded familiar. When I reached the end she revealed

‘The above story celebrates some of the 80 books I read in 2023 and it’s fun to create a short narrative featuring a few of the titles.‘

The familiar phrases was the title of my novel ‘At The Seaside Nobody Hears You Scream’ and Annika had written a five star review. It’s always great to get a good review, especially if the reader ‘gets’ the story and style.

‘VINE VOICE

5.0 out of 5 stars Gripping and unusual with terrific characters! Highly recommended! Reviewed in the United Kingdom on 12 September 2023

Verified Purchase

Congratulations to the author for this superbly crafted and original book that had me hooked from the very start. Toby Channing by accident became a private investigator following the disappearance of his girlfriend, Anna. A year later, he is still an unconfirmed police suspect in her disappearance while personally he is determined to find her. In the process he has set himself up a business in his camper van, travelling around the U.K. to areas special to Anna and helping people along the way, people who have lost someone close to them.

I love the dual aspects of this book, the unusual cases taken on by Toby, the original people he meets along the way and that even an amiable hyperactive robot and the supernatural flow seamlessly into the storyline. It shows the skill of the author how certain cases overlap with his search for Anna.

The story behind Anna’s disappearance is slowly revealed and takes on an even darker national secret.

I loved everything about ‘At the Seaside Nobody Hears You Scream’ and look forward to picking up more of Janet Gogerty’s books in the near future. Highly recommended.’

You can read Annika’s blog here.

A TERRIBLE KINDNESS et al
Available to download on Kindle or as a paperback.

The novel was not Toby Channing’s first appearance. In my collection ‘Someone Somewhere’ he features in a short story and in the two novellas that are linked to the novel and tell the full story behind the hyperactive robot and a supernatural romance.

This collection is different from my previous short story collections. As well as two novellas it includes a look at flash fiction from 75 words to 1000.

When Selina’s son tells her he is bringing someone for the weekend the guest is not what she is expecting.
A summer solstice weekend at Durlswood House promises to be very pleasant, but events occur that will change the lives of two people forever.
Someone is somewhere, but are they where they should be and who are they? Enjoy two very different novellas.
How long is a story? How short is flash fiction? Four topical short stories and two chapters of flash fiction round up this collection and take your mind to somewhere you may not have been before.

Also available for kindle or as a paperback.

I am currently enjoying this collection of short stories by Annika Perry.

THE STORYTELLER SPEAKS

Thursday Thoughts

~ tidalscribe.com ~ 26 Comments

The monthly coffee morning at our little local library is different each time. We never know who might turn up, how many or what we might be doing. Could be a talk, a quiz, scrabble on the table…. This morning there were some new faces including a small, lively elderly lady with a large son. She told us he was an autistic savant and asked which of us knew the day of the week we were born, but don’t say it out loud. Then we each told him our date of birth and he got the day right every time.

How? Was it memory or a mathematical formula. With 52 weeks in a year plus one day, we know our days move by one each year, except for leap years… It only took him a few moments to come up with his answers. I have to admit that one lady gave her daughter’s birth date and he said Tuesday, she said it wasn’t. Asked again he said Tuesday. I asked her what time of day and she said noon, which precluded a date vagueness around midnight… She was a new person we didn’t know; was she telling the truth, perhaps she misremembered…

He also remembered the football match results for any date you named, but unless you are a football fan that is not so interesting. His mother said unfortunately he couldn’t predict future results, only remember past, so winning the football pools was just a dream. Finally she said ‘Okay, he’s done his party trick we’re off now.’ And off he went with his eight library books.

Most of us, if we fly from a busy airport, probably don’t know the make, model and safety record of the plane we are going on. We don’t even see what it looks like on the outside. Perhaps there are apps and websites to go on, I haven’t flown for years so don’t ask me. I certainly know that members of my extended family have flown safely over most continents. If you had access to information that your type of plane often had lose bolts, just like the one whose panel and window fell / was sucked out, at least you could make an informed choice.

Also having a lucky escape were the passengers on the Japanese plane colliding on landing with a small plane which sadly wasn’t so lucky. Do you have trouble finding, doing up and undoing your seat belt when someone offers you a lift in a car you are unfamiliar with? That would be me on the Japanese plane. With my dyspraxic hands I would never get undone in ninety seconds let alone get out, down the chute, film what was happening on my phone and manage not to drop the phone on the way out. Find out the names of the cabin crew and book them for your next flight, they got everyone out safely.

Have you been to a cat café? My Aussie relatives have been on a mega Euro holiday. Having been on husky sleds and met the real Father Christmas, going to a cat café in London was one of the last treats for my great niece. Her aunty booked a table for afternoon tea and it cost £lots, but as cat lovers it was worth it apparently. Coincidentally I had just been down an internet rabbit hole to see what happened to the kitten that didn’t stop growing. Disappointingly it did not turn out to be an albino lion and eat the owner, but an affectionate very large Maine Coon. So I recognised the rather scary, very fluffy cat investigating their scones in the picture that appeared on my phone. Apparently it was not fully grown yet. I think I would rather eat my afternoon tea without a big fluffy cat on the table. At home the relatives’ cats are not allowed out; letting your cat kill the native birds and marsupials of Western Australia is frowned upon.

Ironically they were astonished how many eateries and pubs in England allow dogs in. I guess we have no need for ‘puppy cafes’ as our cafes are already full of dogs.

Have you been on a scary flight?

What is the strangest café you have been in?