OLD COCKY

Old Cocky was short and stocky and walked past my gate in his ancient tartan slippers, with his usual shuffling gait that is reserved for old folk.  With his bulbous nose and wild eyebrows peeking out of his bunnet, he stooped as he walked past me with his stick.  His grey-blue eyes looked sad and tired, it wasn’t the first time he had told me he wished he was no longer here.

I wondered what snippet of gossip he would have for me today, probably the same as yesterday.  Cocky has early stage dementia and unfortunately tells you the same story every day, except when talking about his life down the pit many years ago. 

His memory for the past is as sharp as the knife I sliced my finger open with this morning.  He could tell you all the minutiae of all the neighbours’ lives, going back to before my estate was built.  I always used to rely on Cocky to find out what the neighbours were up to.

For the last 18 years Cocky has told me, in no uncertain terms, how things should be done when I’ve been doing up my house and garden.  He was the font of all knowledge and reminded me somewhat of my dad.  With the same bigoted, sexist and dictatorial attitudes, I looked on him as a father figure, but, like my dad, he could also turn his hand to almost anything.  He knows everyone and nobody can walk down the street without being accosted by old Cocky and, once he strikes up a conversation, it’s impossible to get away.  Perhaps that’s why he has no true friends, nobody but me will put up with him. 

There’s another side to Cocky though, he’s very generous and I can’t leave his house without him giving me something:  a piece of fruit; a saw or a newspaper.  He’s always giving things away and his ‘advice’, which can be annoying, but is always well meant. 

He has no children of his own and his wife died of cancer a good few years ago, along with his precious black Labrador, bramble.  Even his girlfriend, Anne, has given up on him, as her health isn’t too good either and she lives too far away.  One by one all his old ‘friends’ are popping off.  He must be very lonely and isolated but, if you mention him going to an old folks club or getting a befriender, he says he’s too ‘shy’ and digs his heels in.  I’ve given up trying to advise him as he never takes any heed.

It’s sad to see how such a proud and capable man could crumble in front of my very eyes and I hate to think what the future holds for him.

Henrietta the Hairy Haggis II

Henrietta lived in a beautiful Scottish Highland Glen with her mum, Harriet, dad, Harry and her 12 haggis brothers and sisters. 

Her life was blissfully happy and carefree.  Every day she would play in the sunshine and forage for purple heather, a favourite feast for a haggis.

Henrietta was the youngest of 13, unlucky for some, but she felt blessed that she had such a wonderful family. 

She was a right-legged haggis as her two left legs were longer than her right.  This allowed her to run clockwise round the hill without falling off.

On the whole Henrietta was a good haggis but sometimes she ignored her parents advice.  

Her mum and dad insisted that, once the shooting season started, she wasn’t allowed out of the den.  

Henrietta couldn’t resist the bright summer sunshine and, in a fit of rage, sneaked out of the den even though the hunting season had already started.  

She gambolled and munched on the heather and harebells full of the joys of summer until she came across a haggis hunt.  

There were, what seemed like, 100’s of hungry hounds and big burly huntsmen.  Henrietta was terrified because she knew if they caught her they would eat her for dinner.

She cowered in the heather quiet as a field mouse but, unfortunately, one of the dogs saw her. 

It came running after her at breakneck speed and, in her fear and confusion, she ran the wrong way round the hill. 

This was a nigh on impossible feat for a right-legged haggis and she lost her balance and tumbled over and over and over down the hillside. 

She kept rolling and rolling until she landed with a bump at the bottom of the hill right inside a badger set. 

I don’t know who got the biggest surprise, Henrietta or Bertie the badger. 

The hounds dug at the entrance to the set, howling loudly, but luckily they were too big to enter the badgers den and soon gave up.

Although safe, Henrietta started sobbing.  “What’s wrong” asked Bertie.  Henrietta explained that, even though she was safe from the huntsmen and their dogs, she would never be able to climb back up the hill to her home with her wee short legs. 

Bertie comforted her and promised to take her home. 

True to his word Bertie climbed the steep hill with Henrietta clinging on tightly to his back and returned her to her family. 

Henrietta and her family were overjoyed and couldn’t thank Bertie enough. 

Henrietta learnt her lesson and never left the den during the hunting season ever again.

Copyright Mary Chandler, 2015

Henrietta the Hairy Haggis

Henrietta lived in a beautiful Scottish Highland Glen with her 12 baby haggis’s and her husband Harry.  Their life was blissfully happy and carefree.  Every day they would play in the sunshine and forage for purple heather, a favourite feast for a haggis.

Henrietta was a right-legged haggis as her two left legs were longer than her right.  This allowed her to run clockwise round the hill without falling off.

One day in August, the start of the shooting season, Henrietta came across a haggis hunt.  There were, what seemed like, 100’s of hungry hounds and big burly huntsmen.  Henrietta was terrified because she knew if they caught her they would eat her for dinner and her poor children would be left without a mother and Harry without a wife.

Unfortunately, one of the dogs saw her, even though she cowered in the heather, quieter than a field mouse.  It came running after her and, in her fear and confusion, she ran the wrong way round the hill.  This was a nigh on impossible feat for a right-legged haggis and she lost her balance and tumbled over and over and over down the hillside.  She kept rolling and rolling until she landed with a bump inside a badger set.  I don’t know who got the biggest surprise, Henrietta or Bertie the badger. The hounds, dug at the entrance to the set, howling loudly, but luckily they were too big to enter the badgers den. 

Although safe Henrietta started sobbing.  “What’s wrong” said Bertie.  Henriatta explained that, even though she was safe from the huntsmen, she would never be able to climb back up the hill to her babies and husband.  Bertie comforted her and suggested she climb on his back and he would take her home.  True to his word Bertie climbed the steep hill with Henrietta on his back and returned her to her family.  Henrietta and her family were overjoyed and couldn’t thank Bertie enough.  Henrietta learnt her lesson and no longer left her den during the shooting season!

A Walk in the Park

A Walk in the Park


Almondell, the oasis in a sea of concrete
Ecosystems for all walks of life
Where ancient and contemporary meld
And nature blends with man

A tapestry of green, woven skilfully by Mother nature
Giant redwoods, to miniature Monkey puzzles
Feeding frenzies at the feeder
Buzzards circling on the thermals
Children screaming with ecstasy
All kinds of life are represented

Everyone something new
Snowdrops poking their heads above the snow
Sheltering from the belting rain
Wild garlic wafting its heady scent
The bouquet of Summer
Forget-me-nots cannot be overlooked
Nor the blaze of autumn colours

 
The Almond wends its weary way
Hiding the elusive Kingfisher
And the fisher folk
Woods high above, a myriad of layers for everything to explore
All the people, entwined in peace
Nothing can disturb its tranquillity or its splendour

Childhood Memories II

Aint she cute

Pity she aint mute

Aint she a beaut

Raucous laugh - far too loud

Aint she smart

Forever cowed

Sisters’ harrying

Silently Crying

Tied to a tree, hopelessly sobbing

Bad dreams in the night

Lonliness enveloping

Jealousy aint hatred – but it aint right

Sunshine, in the blistering heat

Straddling her pony - in time to the beat

Escape, from the heat

She yearns to touch the sky

But here she can meet

her fate, she can fly.