There is now an independent website for the people of the community of Fishersgate, West Sussex. Not alligned to any of the special interest group of the area, this website will allow the local residents to have their say (for once).
www.fishersgate.moonfruit.com
Saturday, 6 October 2007
Thursday, 27 September 2007
Railway Announcements
My two best railway announcements.........
At number 1, heard on Brighton Station. I am wating for the 'all stops' Brighton to Worthing train on Platform 1. The incoming train is late. "The train now standing at Platform 1 is the 16:05 Brighton to Worthing, stopping at Aldrington, Hove,........... "We all looked bemused down at the empty track, until the announcement concluded, and there was the click of the microphone being turned off, then another click as it was turned on again. "There is no train standing at Platform 1, but when there is, it will be the 16:05 Brighton to Worthing, stopping......... "
At number 2, heard at London Bridge Station, London. I am waiting for a local train, and the next train leaving the platform (again Platform 1) is heading for the South Coast, so I watch it pull out. Whilst this train was standing at the platform the announcer was busy telling travellers that a train to Ashford, Kent, was cancelled. By the time he had done this the train on my platform had left. "The train that has just left Platform 1 is the 14:10 service to Hastings".
At number 1, heard on Brighton Station. I am wating for the 'all stops' Brighton to Worthing train on Platform 1. The incoming train is late. "The train now standing at Platform 1 is the 16:05 Brighton to Worthing, stopping at Aldrington, Hove,........... "We all looked bemused down at the empty track, until the announcement concluded, and there was the click of the microphone being turned off, then another click as it was turned on again. "There is no train standing at Platform 1, but when there is, it will be the 16:05 Brighton to Worthing, stopping......... "
At number 2, heard at London Bridge Station, London. I am waiting for a local train, and the next train leaving the platform (again Platform 1) is heading for the South Coast, so I watch it pull out. Whilst this train was standing at the platform the announcer was busy telling travellers that a train to Ashford, Kent, was cancelled. By the time he had done this the train on my platform had left. "The train that has just left Platform 1 is the 14:10 service to Hastings".
Wednesday, 15 August 2007
Snail Tale
Millie disliked snails, but no enough to kill them. So every moring early Millie would potter around her garden picking up snails and puting them into a blue plastic bucket. Then Millie put the id on the bucket, and stored it carefully where it would be in shade all day. Late in the day, as dusk turned to dark, Millie would take the bucket of snails and walk along the road until she was far enough away from her own garden, and then take the lid off and tip the snails over someone's garden wall. Millie didn't for this twice at the same house, as she thought that that wouldn't be fair.
Mr Grizzel at number thirty two had another way of dealing with snails, he lobbed them as far as he could across to other people's gardens. Sometimes he lobbed them one at a time, and sometimes two or more at once.
One evening Millie depodited her bucket of snails over the wall of Mr Grizzel. In the morning the garden at number thirty two had been chomped and chewed, and there were silvery snail trails everywhere. Mr Grizzel quite wore himself out lobbing snails in all directions, and by the time he had finished the elbow of his throwing arm ached.
Mr Griazzel was determined to discover the reason for the snail invasion. He quickly realised it couldn't have been a natural occurance, and knew someone had had a hand in it. That evening, unaware of wrath of Grizzel that awaited her, Millie walked down the road with her blue plastic bucket. When she reached number seventy nine she removed the lid, and had just upended the bucket over the garden wall when Mr Grizzel came bellowing toward her. Thinking he had mistaken hre for somebody else with whom he had a grievance Millie smiled, hoping there was enough light from the street lamps to show this man he had made a mistake.
Millie's hope was short lived, as she quickly realised Mr Grizzel had not mistaken her for anyone else. In fact he was delighted to inform her that now she knew who she was, and he intended to let the whole neighbourhood know the following day.
Unfrotunatly for Mr Grizzel his pan backfired onto himself. In the telling of the story of Millie and her bucket of snails, Mr Grizzel admitted to his near neighbours that he had been lobbing snails from his garden into theirs for years. Next morning as Mr Grizzel walked out of door the first thing that happened was that he was hit on the shoulder by a large snail dropping from the direction of the sky.
Mr Grizzel picked up the stunned creature, and lobbed it along two gardens to the left of his. Mrs Merry screeched in annoyance, and the came smartly back, this time landing in Mr Grizzel's rosebush. Not wishing to get scratched Mr Grizzel left that snail to it's fate, and gathered one large snail and two smaller ones from the border. The large snail travelled all the way to Mrs Merry's garden, but the two smaller ones only made it as far as next door.
By the time the police arrived neighbours on both sides had joined in the onslaught of snails towards Mr Grizzel. He meanwhile scampered about his garden, picking up the molluscs and throwing them, sometimes overarm, sometimes underarm, to the left and right. PC Comfrey got slowly out of his police car, mindful to keep one eye out ofr low flying snails. As he crunched his way across the pavement (not everyone's aim had been true), all activity stopped.
PC Comfrey stood tall, and thought in an authorative frame of mind, as he had been taught. He enquired what was going on here then, and soon had a fairly accurate picture of events.The residents having been warned that their behaviuor was not sociable, PC Comfrey walked back to the police car.
Everyone stare at the squashed snails on the pavement, and Mr Merry commented that it was difficult to believe some people paid good money to eat snails.
Mr Merry's comment put an idea into Mr Grizzel'd head. His back garden was quite big enough to errect the neccesary enclousures, and so despite lobjections from his neighbours, Mr Grizzel was granted permission by the local council to turn his garden into a snail farm.
Inspired by Mr Grizzel's success Mrs Merry decided to supplement her pension wiht honey, and soon busy hives appeared in her garden.
PC Comfrey thought in an authorative frame of mind so well that soon he became Sgt Comfrey.
And Millie? Millie founded the snail liberation group Free A Snail Today, of which she was the only ever member. Despite Millie's best attempts by sneaking into Mr Grizzel's garden and leaving escape holes cut for the snails, only one snail ever made a dash for freedom, and that was eaten by a Hedgehog.
Mr Grizzel at number thirty two had another way of dealing with snails, he lobbed them as far as he could across to other people's gardens. Sometimes he lobbed them one at a time, and sometimes two or more at once.
One evening Millie depodited her bucket of snails over the wall of Mr Grizzel. In the morning the garden at number thirty two had been chomped and chewed, and there were silvery snail trails everywhere. Mr Grizzel quite wore himself out lobbing snails in all directions, and by the time he had finished the elbow of his throwing arm ached.
Mr Griazzel was determined to discover the reason for the snail invasion. He quickly realised it couldn't have been a natural occurance, and knew someone had had a hand in it. That evening, unaware of wrath of Grizzel that awaited her, Millie walked down the road with her blue plastic bucket. When she reached number seventy nine she removed the lid, and had just upended the bucket over the garden wall when Mr Grizzel came bellowing toward her. Thinking he had mistaken hre for somebody else with whom he had a grievance Millie smiled, hoping there was enough light from the street lamps to show this man he had made a mistake.
Millie's hope was short lived, as she quickly realised Mr Grizzel had not mistaken her for anyone else. In fact he was delighted to inform her that now she knew who she was, and he intended to let the whole neighbourhood know the following day.
Unfrotunatly for Mr Grizzel his pan backfired onto himself. In the telling of the story of Millie and her bucket of snails, Mr Grizzel admitted to his near neighbours that he had been lobbing snails from his garden into theirs for years. Next morning as Mr Grizzel walked out of door the first thing that happened was that he was hit on the shoulder by a large snail dropping from the direction of the sky.
Mr Grizzel picked up the stunned creature, and lobbed it along two gardens to the left of his. Mrs Merry screeched in annoyance, and the came smartly back, this time landing in Mr Grizzel's rosebush. Not wishing to get scratched Mr Grizzel left that snail to it's fate, and gathered one large snail and two smaller ones from the border. The large snail travelled all the way to Mrs Merry's garden, but the two smaller ones only made it as far as next door.
By the time the police arrived neighbours on both sides had joined in the onslaught of snails towards Mr Grizzel. He meanwhile scampered about his garden, picking up the molluscs and throwing them, sometimes overarm, sometimes underarm, to the left and right. PC Comfrey got slowly out of his police car, mindful to keep one eye out ofr low flying snails. As he crunched his way across the pavement (not everyone's aim had been true), all activity stopped.
PC Comfrey stood tall, and thought in an authorative frame of mind, as he had been taught. He enquired what was going on here then, and soon had a fairly accurate picture of events.The residents having been warned that their behaviuor was not sociable, PC Comfrey walked back to the police car.
Everyone stare at the squashed snails on the pavement, and Mr Merry commented that it was difficult to believe some people paid good money to eat snails.
Mr Merry's comment put an idea into Mr Grizzel'd head. His back garden was quite big enough to errect the neccesary enclousures, and so despite lobjections from his neighbours, Mr Grizzel was granted permission by the local council to turn his garden into a snail farm.
Inspired by Mr Grizzel's success Mrs Merry decided to supplement her pension wiht honey, and soon busy hives appeared in her garden.
PC Comfrey thought in an authorative frame of mind so well that soon he became Sgt Comfrey.
And Millie? Millie founded the snail liberation group Free A Snail Today, of which she was the only ever member. Despite Millie's best attempts by sneaking into Mr Grizzel's garden and leaving escape holes cut for the snails, only one snail ever made a dash for freedom, and that was eaten by a Hedgehog.
Monday, 13 August 2007
Match Of The Man
The customers at Paddlingsea's The Happy Tripper tried to enjoy the live musical entertainment provided by The Bouncing Cranberrys, but todays' news had meant that a serious mood hung over the pub.
The annual football derby match between Paddlingsea and Comley End had been declared void, following a scandel involving bribery and players. It had been proven that Comley End's goalkeeper, Ivor Shortley, had paid his opposit number, Ben Detoi of Paddlingsea to allow goals to be scored. Ivor knew that the manager of Muchcash Rovers was at the match, and he hoped to be asked to change teams. The final score of seventeen to two in Comley End's favour had set alarm bells ringing, and an investigation had revealed the truth. Ivor had tried to deny everything and even blamed Ben Detoi, saying Ben had taken a bribe from someone else, and was lying in telling the Police it was Ivor. Bank statements had soon proved the bribe had come fom Ivor, and Paddlingsea's supporters branded Ivor a cowerd, as well as a cheat.
The Bouncing Cranberrys, sensing a lack of interest, decided to wind up the session with their redition of It's All In The Game, which song choice drew shouts of derision from the drinkers. The Happy Tripper's landlord, Al Coepop stomped around the bar waving his hands at The Cranberrys, who ceased playing in a disorganised jumble of notes and chords. Leader of The Cranberrys Bob Bing, babbled that the band had never been treated so badly. Bob tried to calm Al down by saying that the next time The Cranberrys played The Tripper they would charge half fee. Judging by the glares from around the pub it would be sometime before the group would need to make good on that promise.
At that moment into the pub walked Ivor Shortley, the disgraced goalkeeper with Comley End. The dinkers bristled, and Ivor stopped uncertainly. Al and Bob ceased their arguing and stared at Ivor.
Ivor who was carrying a large cardboard box, walked to the bar, and puting the box down produced from it a bottle of vintage port. Everyone looked on as Ivor produced bottle after bottle of expensive wines and spirits from the box. Finaly Al could contain himself no longer, and asked Ivor what it was all about.
Ivor smiled and said " Say what you like you about me being a cheat, but I wont be called a cowerd. I have brought all of these along today to prove that I have a lot of bottle."
The annual football derby match between Paddlingsea and Comley End had been declared void, following a scandel involving bribery and players. It had been proven that Comley End's goalkeeper, Ivor Shortley, had paid his opposit number, Ben Detoi of Paddlingsea to allow goals to be scored. Ivor knew that the manager of Muchcash Rovers was at the match, and he hoped to be asked to change teams. The final score of seventeen to two in Comley End's favour had set alarm bells ringing, and an investigation had revealed the truth. Ivor had tried to deny everything and even blamed Ben Detoi, saying Ben had taken a bribe from someone else, and was lying in telling the Police it was Ivor. Bank statements had soon proved the bribe had come fom Ivor, and Paddlingsea's supporters branded Ivor a cowerd, as well as a cheat.
The Bouncing Cranberrys, sensing a lack of interest, decided to wind up the session with their redition of It's All In The Game, which song choice drew shouts of derision from the drinkers. The Happy Tripper's landlord, Al Coepop stomped around the bar waving his hands at The Cranberrys, who ceased playing in a disorganised jumble of notes and chords. Leader of The Cranberrys Bob Bing, babbled that the band had never been treated so badly. Bob tried to calm Al down by saying that the next time The Cranberrys played The Tripper they would charge half fee. Judging by the glares from around the pub it would be sometime before the group would need to make good on that promise.
At that moment into the pub walked Ivor Shortley, the disgraced goalkeeper with Comley End. The dinkers bristled, and Ivor stopped uncertainly. Al and Bob ceased their arguing and stared at Ivor.
Ivor who was carrying a large cardboard box, walked to the bar, and puting the box down produced from it a bottle of vintage port. Everyone looked on as Ivor produced bottle after bottle of expensive wines and spirits from the box. Finaly Al could contain himself no longer, and asked Ivor what it was all about.
Ivor smiled and said " Say what you like you about me being a cheat, but I wont be called a cowerd. I have brought all of these along today to prove that I have a lot of bottle."
Thursday, 9 August 2007
"Who's A Mug?"
Ug and Gug were right clever cavemen, who thought they knew it all. They didn't rate Mug very highly, but they put up with him because he was useful to send out to kill a brontisawus for lunch.
One day Ug got an idea. For ages everyone in the world had used felled trees to move heavy loads along. Trouble was it was an ungainly way to move things, and took lots of men and effort to keep moving the trees to be in front of the load.
Ug thought if he could find a way to cut through the trees at the right point in their length he might have something useful. So he made a saw out of bone and teeth, and he got Mug to use it. Ug told Mug that what they were doing would make them both famous.
When Mug has sawn off four round pieces of timber, Ug got Mug to make a platform by sawing trees lengthwise, and then using strips of animal skin to tie the round sections ot the platform. It didn't move! So Ug came up with another idea, and with the addition of a hole in the middle of eash round piece of wood and some wooden poles, (cut by Mug, of course), soon they had a platform with wheels.
Along came Gug. He immediatly saw the potential in the invention. Gug set about thinking of ways to make sure that everyone in the world would know of this clever and useful innovation.
Mug went back to work, leaving Ug thinking how the platform could come in lots of different sizes for different uses, and Gug trying to think of a logo.
Mug cut smaller trees into the right sections, and made a much smaller version of the platform on wheels. He added a 'T' shaped piece of wood to the front, so that when he stood on the platform he would have something to hold onto. Then Mug go onto the platform, and pushed it along with one foot on the ground.
Mug scooted along quite quickly, and this realy impressed the girls. Soon Mug had lots of lady friends, and as was the custom of the time, soon lots of Mug's lots of lady friends had babies. Mug then journeyed across miles of countryside, and everywhere he went he left lots of little mugs behind him.
As the years went by Mug's offspring began to dominate the gene pool.
Ug and Gug never did get very far from where they started, but they had lots more big ideas, some of which worked. Sadly neither Ug nor Gug had any kids, and so with their demise intelligent men died out.
One day Ug got an idea. For ages everyone in the world had used felled trees to move heavy loads along. Trouble was it was an ungainly way to move things, and took lots of men and effort to keep moving the trees to be in front of the load.
Ug thought if he could find a way to cut through the trees at the right point in their length he might have something useful. So he made a saw out of bone and teeth, and he got Mug to use it. Ug told Mug that what they were doing would make them both famous.
When Mug has sawn off four round pieces of timber, Ug got Mug to make a platform by sawing trees lengthwise, and then using strips of animal skin to tie the round sections ot the platform. It didn't move! So Ug came up with another idea, and with the addition of a hole in the middle of eash round piece of wood and some wooden poles, (cut by Mug, of course), soon they had a platform with wheels.
Along came Gug. He immediatly saw the potential in the invention. Gug set about thinking of ways to make sure that everyone in the world would know of this clever and useful innovation.
Mug went back to work, leaving Ug thinking how the platform could come in lots of different sizes for different uses, and Gug trying to think of a logo.
Mug cut smaller trees into the right sections, and made a much smaller version of the platform on wheels. He added a 'T' shaped piece of wood to the front, so that when he stood on the platform he would have something to hold onto. Then Mug go onto the platform, and pushed it along with one foot on the ground.
Mug scooted along quite quickly, and this realy impressed the girls. Soon Mug had lots of lady friends, and as was the custom of the time, soon lots of Mug's lots of lady friends had babies. Mug then journeyed across miles of countryside, and everywhere he went he left lots of little mugs behind him.
As the years went by Mug's offspring began to dominate the gene pool.
Ug and Gug never did get very far from where they started, but they had lots more big ideas, some of which worked. Sadly neither Ug nor Gug had any kids, and so with their demise intelligent men died out.
Saturday, 14 July 2007
MAN IN NED
Ned was so ordinary, that the word ordinary might have been invented to describe him. It was therefore an even bigger suprise than it might have been to the residents of Roundly Bottom when Ned suddenly took up yodelling. Ned yodelled in the morning on his way to buy his daily paper, he yodelled as he dug his vegetable patch, and he yodelled on his way to church on Sundays. Though Ned did manage to contain his yodels durin the hymns, it was tense time for everyone when come Christmas 'Gloria In Excelses' appeared on the order of service, several times.
Spring came and Ned went as usual in the first week of May to stay with his Great Aunt Agatha in Dorset. The weather was lovely and there was nothing to stop Ned from spending many hours yodelling on the beaches, although some people tried. But WPC Mandy Nixon-Friday checked every law she could find and said that Ned was within his rights to yodel, as long as he did not do so in a built up area.
One afternoon as Ned walked along the beach yodelling happily he was suprised to see a mermaid sunning herself on a rock just offshore, Ned rubbed his eyes and looked again. The mermaid was still there. She smiled and told Ned that her name was Delilah, but that her firends called her Del. She had been watching Ned and had fallen in love with him. If he would join he in living in the sea she would be able to make him imortal, and they could live happily ever after. There was just one thing, she wanted Ned to stop yodelling, as the high notes gave her a headache. Ned gazed at the beautiful mermaid, but he hestitated at her request to stop yodelling. Apart from that both Ned and the mermaid knew that they were made for each other. Ned thought, there were no questions, only one, Del or yodel.
Spring came and Ned went as usual in the first week of May to stay with his Great Aunt Agatha in Dorset. The weather was lovely and there was nothing to stop Ned from spending many hours yodelling on the beaches, although some people tried. But WPC Mandy Nixon-Friday checked every law she could find and said that Ned was within his rights to yodel, as long as he did not do so in a built up area.
One afternoon as Ned walked along the beach yodelling happily he was suprised to see a mermaid sunning herself on a rock just offshore, Ned rubbed his eyes and looked again. The mermaid was still there. She smiled and told Ned that her name was Delilah, but that her firends called her Del. She had been watching Ned and had fallen in love with him. If he would join he in living in the sea she would be able to make him imortal, and they could live happily ever after. There was just one thing, she wanted Ned to stop yodelling, as the high notes gave her a headache. Ned gazed at the beautiful mermaid, but he hestitated at her request to stop yodelling. Apart from that both Ned and the mermaid knew that they were made for each other. Ned thought, there were no questions, only one, Del or yodel.
Monday, 9 July 2007
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