Sheep - a poem in one sentence

Your new home sounds absolutely wonderful to me, I really hope you are very happy there.

I was wondering actually, as you hadn't mentioned it for a while, if perhaps you had resented the move, your mental state gave me cause for concern and I considered the frustrations you were exposing in your tantrums to be a possibility of regret.

Doc Benwright happened to mention house moving as being one of the most stressful occurences we face in our lives. My mate Ralph, he moves about all over the planet in his field of work.

The large (very large) farmhouse he lives in with his mother is enormous, Ralph commandeered one full floor many years ago, when he is off and away he seals it off totally, his mother has no key to the same, she lives in the remainder of the house, and is happy at the arrangement. I hold the key for Ralph so that if there were to be an emergency I could gain entry, I would find it extremely difficult to describe his layout.

His lounge area has the most beautiful eastern furniture you can imagine.
His bedroom is enormous with two of the biggest and thickest mattresses on top of each other on the floor. The wardrobes and dressing table are made from oak and finished off with large solid brass fittings. The carpet is like walking on thick moss. His bathroom is all white with a grey tiled floor, enormous bath sunk into the floor a steam room and sauna, the shower cubicle twice average size with jets coming from top, sides, and bottom. His kitchen is large and ultra-modern. He has one of those giant TV receiving dishes about a hundred yards away from the house, complete with electric motor to tune in to all and everything, but all he ever seems to watch is 'porn'. I always wonder why Ralph spends so much on his pad when sometimes there can be a two year gap or more in him coming home, then it is never for more than a month. My wife is extremely fond of him, treats him like a giant ape, but she is happier when he moves out and returns to work. Some how or another, me and Ralph always seem to get in a spot of bother.

I suppose it started the night I met Ralph, in a pub when we were both in our late teens. To cut a very long story short, (there were no drink and drive laws as such then, if you could walk a straight line, stand on one leg and touch your nose so to speak you were deemed fit enough to drive) we came out of a pub and I snapped the door key off in a Vauxhall Victor I was driving at the time, which wasn't mine. We could have forced entry and got it going, but something told me to leave it there!

Ralph lived in my general area and we decided as it was a beautiful summers night, we would walk home. After a few miles, I spotted this Shire horse in a field. It seemed a good idea to 'borrow' it to get home on.
We managed to get on board only Ralph was at the back facing the wrong way, I was holding this big thick mane and geeing him up. We got onto the road and after about a mile came to a set of traffic lights. Horse wouldn't stop, but it didn't really matter, not a great deal of traffic, but a panda car came along. A panda car was a Ford Anglia designated to the police forces in those days. That was my first introduction to Sergeant Roberts, who was not at all amused, he told me he could charge me with horse theft, various public and road traffic offences, and Ralph chirped in, kidnap, I kidnapped him he said.

We had to take the horse back and Sergeant Roberts took us both home. I got on great with him for years. I had many a pint with him when he had long retired from the force and I was running a business, I was sad when he passed away a few years ago. They don't make cops like that anymore.

Yes I did a few of Tom Jones numbers, 'I'm coming home' being my favourite, not a lot of people can sing that song.

I also did Lanza, Orbison, Elvis (everybody did Elvis) a little Dylan, any country & western artist you could think of and 'Old Blue Eyes' of course.
Oh and Frankie Lane numbers, they went down well, Jezebel, Lucky Old Sun, In The Beginning'

By the way Spendi, you ignorant bumpkin, the title is 'Supporting Act' not 'filler' you ignoramus, filler is a mixture car repair bods and decorator's use. Just so you realise it wasn't all working mens clubs, I topped the bill at the 'Talk of The North' many moons back and I have no intention of mentioning the London scene.

Take care Aidan, it's been a scorcher here today, I am going to water some plants though shortly.

No, I don't regret this move at all. In fact, I feel it's the best move I've ever made. Being able to come home to the peace and quiet of the countryside after a long hot day in town is just so refreshing - almost like a healing balm. Do you know what I mean?

And I feel so lucky that I found this place. The funny thing is - I was almost to the point of desperation - not knowing for sure where I'd end up and every option just kept falling through and then this place came along. Initially I thought it'd be too expensive - but the rent is really very reasonable - I think because this woman just wants a good, reliable long-term tenant and not a lot of people want to live so far out.
Then I was afraid that I'd be afraid myself being so isolated at night. But I'm happy to say I'm not. The house has a very good, safe 'feel' to it. That's something I recognize immediately about a place - is it a 'friendly' house or does it feel 'dangerous'? This house feels friendly and it's so quiet at night - the quiet feels almost like a blanketing, tangible presence - the only thing I can compare it to is the silence of the mornings in Maine when you would wake up and know immediately, even without looking out the window that it had snowed two feet overnight because all the usual noise was muffled, if not totally absent. I haven't had one 'scared' moment. That's important to me - I hate feeling afraid.

So when I was weighing all the pros and cons initially - I was talking to a friend and told her I liked this house, but it would add a lot of driving to my life and when I described it she said, 'Rebecca - you have to take it. Even if only for six months- just so you can have the experience of living somewhere like that.' (I told her I've always wanted to live out in the country). She was right.

Actually, it's gotten my imagination working. The friend I housesat for last week-end - when he saw the place just walked around chuckling. Because it's a cottage on the grounds of this larger estate with quite a lot of landscaped property, it comes with a gardener. I was telling him this and he said, with quite an evil smile- 'Geez Becks - you could have a whole D.H. Lawrence scenario going on out here.' (He's a pretty naughty, funny guy - knows me very well- he's English-born, but raised here and in America - we met twenty years ago when he was in medical school and I had first started teaching and shared a house in Philadelphia with some other people.- and funnily enough he's back over here for a couple of years. (Our friendship is probably a lot like yours and Ralph's as a matter of fact. We know each other backward and forward. I took him to drop off his motorcycle to get fixed - I had to follow him so I could give him a ride back.
It was about an hour long ride, but I realized when it was over, it had seemed like five minutes- I love when you just feel so at home with someone like that- is that how you get along with Ralph?
So anyway, he's kind of like a brother to me -and we have very similar senses of humor so I knew he was kidding, and he knew I would find it funny because he knew I would know he was kidding). I just laughed and said, 'Yeah, you never know what might happen out here in such a magically beautiful place.'
Not that I have any plans - but it brings to mind a lot of story ideas.

Ralph's place sounds nice. Do you hang out at his place when he's off on his travels? (Sounds like your kind of bathroom with all the baths, saunas and showers you say you take).

What on earth would I hang out at Ralph's place for?

That seems another of your totally abstract and ridiculous questions Aidan.

If his mother should ever need me for anything she has my land line, and mobile number, plus my wifes mobile number. If I am in the immediate area whilst Ralph is away, I sometimes call in to see her, but she rabbits on like you would expect a ninety odd year old young lady to do, and sometimes threatens to shoot me with her 12 bore before I get out of my car. When she recalls who I am, she forgets five seconds later and tells me her roof does not need fixing and if I don't get the hell out of here, she will shoot me and feed my carcass to her dogs. The permanent live in nurse, Jacqueline, usually comes to my rescue with a nice cup of tea. She also acts as a secretary for Ralph and if there are any bills need paying she will ask me to sign the cheques which she has prepared, with invoices (Ralph gave me Power of Attorney many years since). If any running repairs are required she will advise me and I normally sanction them.

Then Ralph's mum accuses the nurse of shilly shallying all day and not doing the housework properly, or feeding her, or giving her, her medicine.
So I tell her, OK, I will take her away now and fetch a new nurse later! She then threatens me again with the gun, saying she only wants this nurse. She creates fantastic stories, somebody is moving about in Ralphs rooms, a ghost is in the house, the baby has been crying all night.

It's like a bloody lunatic asylum, every-time I go, but I really love the old girl, and take her some chocolates, (which she say's she does not like)
and a bottle of Bells which Jacqueline gives her a measure of each night in boiled water, with a spoonful of demerara sugar. When I am leaving which is normally between one and two hours after arrival, she say's 'Going already, you have only just come.' I ask her if she knows who I am, and she say's "Of course I do!" I say who then, she say's "Your the Insurance man, or the butcher"

Actually, it's a little like talking with you Aidan. :wink:

Not at all - don't you like a change of scene from time to time? I like housesitting and hanging out at other peoples' houses once in a while- experiencing their stuff and way of life, etc.

You went into such detail about his furnishings and bath facilities - it just sounded like you spent a good amount of time there.

I accidentally erased your quote about how she forgets who you are and thinks you're the butcher or whatever- and how it's like a lunatic asylum, but you actually love the "old girl"

You try very hard to hide it Mathos - but sometimes you let slip that you at least try to pretend you have a heart of gold.


I might say I feel the same.

Your getting too grumpy over too little???



What or who has really upset you Aidan?

How do you get that I'm "upset" out of what I just wrote?

I'm not upset - as I said in the tiger thread, I'm resigned. I guess it hit me when I read Spendius' post and I had to ask myself if I really was a friend to you or him - and if I really even want to be when there's so much distrust and inconsistency and meanness involved in our communication. I never have and don't have any friendships like that. I don't know how to play it that way. When I get familiar with people, I either care about them, or if I decide I don't like them, I stay away from them and/or leave them alone. Those are the only two options. I don't have the third where I don't like them, but I talk to or about them everyday in an effort to belittle them. What the hell is that even called?


You know, I don't know. I know whatever I say you and your team of ridiculers will ridicule it - and honestly I'm just not in the mood. I'm feeling kind of low and fragile. So yeah, go ahead, make fun of that now.

Because the one thing I excel at is being honest and putting my **** on the line - so why stop now? But you know there's just so much **** and sadness and negativity in the world and and I have to ask myself why I should keep participating in it and opening myself up to it. I honestly have to ask myself that. Sometimes this is fun, but other times it's just perplexing and exhausting.

But don't worry. I'm just tired. I'll probably be full of piss and vinegar again tomorrow- or maybe not. Who the hell knows?

Why don't you tell me what you really think of me? (As Mathos asked me the other night)?

*This is a test....

See THE TIGER it is well documented!

No, I don't believe that's how you want to leave it Mathos. We have too much history. Don't you want to know the whole story? You're coming in in the middle of something and totally misinterpreting it.

But anyway - what's the problem? I've said nothing but good things about you. What are you all upset about?

Where have you been by the way?

I have a feeling this is the end of the sheep thread. I don't know how I always manage to make you guys so mad - but somehow I do.

Oh well - all things must change or come to an end. That's just nature's way. I feel you all have made the right decision- this had reached the end of it's usefulness- and it was starting to feel really bad to me So thank you.
Here's my ending poem- I'm happy to say it's nicer than the beginning one. I think that signifies growth, healing- something positive anyway...

Goodbye little sheep
It's time to go to bed
It's time to go to sleep
And rest your weary head

The sun's on the horizon
The sky is burnished gold
The moon will soon be rising
Lambs are safely in the fold.

And when the new morn breaks at last
You will find another valley
With sweeter, greener grass
And your spirits they will rally.

So goodbye little sheep
Stay safe and travel light
I pray you safely keep
And sleep peacefully each night.

THE END

APPLAUSE. ENCORE.APPLAUSE!


Just write poems Becks. F*** the other stuff.

Oh, you liked that Spendius? I'm so glad. It was for you, you know. You do know that don't you?

But you're always so damn bossy- telling me what to write and what not to write.

I hate to be noncompliant, or nonconformist or otherwise disobedient, but I'm going to expand on my sister thing. I loved writing that and remembering all those fun times and how much I love my sister- (I really miss her ).
She read it and she said, "Oh, man Bluke, what about this time and that time and remember that other time...you can't leave out all those times."
I was thinking if I tone down the sex stuff and make it really clear that the drug use was a bad thing and only led to heartache- maybe I can make it like a young adult, coming of age story (although these days, the stuff we got up to probably seems really mild).

What do you think? Since you guys are going nowhere fast with this supposed writing project - I figure I better work out something on my own.

Becks-

Your mistake there is your assumption that a "writing project" is one that you approve of. There are many forms of the species.

I am not so sure if threads are an appropriate vehicle to carry your sort of project. Threads are very much like pubs. People butt in. Sometimes complete stangers and they throw in new ideas and in some cases take the conversation down different routes.

Because a free ranging pub conversation sounds very confused it doesn't mean there isn't a solid structure beneath it.

Surely you have noticed cliques shading off into the general room in pubs. That happens on threads.

The writer must match his/her writing to the medium chosen. It doesn't work the other way round. The medium is a stubborn beast.

Mathos, or Motharse as Claggy calls him, is the pub loudmouth. He's probably been thrown out of all the pubs and has come on here because we can't throw him out. I see myself as the circling Dom Giovanni on here. I think like the Comte in a real pub. I think like Spendius at work. You ladies are basically just the "totty". It's no good pretending otherwise. We can't help it. It's just being honest. Writers can't be dishonest. They have to use figures of speech and circumlocutions to make it sound nice.

Mame's been prancing about pretty fancy lately. The action's in the dark annexe marked Trivia and the night is young.

Becks wrote-



A good writer would have been less brassy-bald than that but much more emphatic.

I never said I was a "good writer". The only adjective I'd ascribe to myself as a writer is "enthusiastic".

Actually, I just reread some stuff and I have to say I am at least a little above average as a writer sometimes.