h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Have you seen that link - there is no ugly landlord - infact, there is no landlord whatsoever there!

>>Not being in love with you would take a superhuman effort.<<

Pit, you'll tell me owt. But much appreciated all the same

Landlord is in the background of the pic, where he belongs. And he´s not the landlord of the times when Taff and I got our liver damaged - but as...erm...fancy as David was.

So what are you saying? that anne-o-mally's wrong - Taff not A gent?

3 days have passed.
Time for resurrection.

~jwf~

OK, Count Dracula - are you really awake?

It's the full moon - werewolf time, methinks. Big hairiness, bigger canines, even bigger bites. M'mnn, blood is great, although the stains under finger nails tend to linger

Luvya.

Sorry folks, got sidetracked - over-busy for a while.

Without going through in detail, there doesn't seem enough for a decent entry as first envisaged:
"What have you done or been part of or 'been there' for?" that won't happen again.

Neither am I sure about a parallel "Things we remember" entry.

However, I'll go through 'em all & see. It may be a bit slow but it remains with me always. You'll find "I was There" engraved on my heart.

- - - -

Here's the second one that was in mind when I bore this thread. (ho ho)

Late 1990s: my mother was then approaching her 90s, travel over, peering through the mists at her end (though it was five years or more before her wish was granted).

Watching her making one final preparation: systematically going through her diaries (5-year ones for as long as I could remember).
Reading a page, tearing it out and shredding it. Nothing I could say persuaded her...
She'd been in Uganda for 15 years or so, from 1950. However much rubbish or personal stuff, there must have been gems in there ...the End Of Empire...

She was determined, DeTerMined - & that did make me wonder a bit.

Well, basic oversight done, things may not be (quite) as sparse as I thought.

"Things I Remember"
Knock on door & run - once the door opened almost immediately. Me running for safety, forgot a wire fence, full tilt into it, thigh high stripes for a week or so.

My pocket money was 2s/6d (half-a-crown), 12 1/2p now, when my peers were getting 5/- (or in one case, 10/-) and it stayed like that until my first job, when my aunt wouldn't accept any more for my keep than my parents were paying.

1954? End of sweety rationing: off the school bus into the Post Office, bag of black bullets.

Me and another lad stole a bar of chocolate from the tuck shop... desk search. Maths teacher saying "I can't do anything this time" (eh? - What was it before?) Home in disgrace.

Being sent out of class (trembling in the toilets) because I could not, just Could Not pronounce "pharoah", it came out far-o-ah every time despite what was in my head.

Last day at school, on the way home, the school bully (I was his favourite butt) wanting to shake hands - still can't figure out why.

- -
Snippets contributed by Miz Stress, who lived on a mixed farm, so there was 'enough' of fruit, veg and milk products:
. End of rationing, getting a cream cake from the shop, super dooper - cannot have been as good as mum's own, but...
. Stealing an apple from teacher's desk, being caught eating it.
. Brother scrumping, getting caught by the policeman - thrashing from dad "we have plenty of our own"
- -


More please? (I'm running out of even the weak ones)

Sorry Rod, if that is not the kind of things you want. A few memories from the early days of my existance:

My first memory could be argued about by some (psychologists etc), but at 2 years old, I remember being bit by a dog. That it was our own dog is the worse/better? I think better in hindsight. Another's dog may have taken half my face away.

The dog was lying on the other side of the steps to the front door, & I had been left outside on my own (just over 2 yrs old). I remember toddling towards the front steps across the green, assessing the comfiness of the steps as opposed to the dog's side, & making the wrong choice. I sat on the dog's side, who was flat out in the sun. I received a bite (mainly due to surprise, in retrospect) on my face. Dad rushed me to the local A&E, me screaming & crying all the way there. Mam had to stay behind, as she had only just come home from giving birth to my brother.

I remember being in the hospital, being layed down, & different people surrounding me, one had a ing huge syringe coming towards my face - then I blacked out - nothing.

My parents always wondered what had happened with the particular dog in question, as he had been especially protective of me when younger, and still was as I grew older. It wasn't until I was around 5yrs old that I was able to tell my parents what had happened, but I always felt guilty that the dog had had a major hiding for for what was essentially my fault. Being a toddler at the time, that didn't register, but it did when I was older.

I'm glad I owned up to the fact that the scar on my face was essentially my own fault, although I knew no better at the time. The dog was not to blame, & I still have very fond memories of him - he was a star in his own right.

anne

PS I still love dogs: they are the boswellox. That didn't put me off in the least,in fact, it made me more curious about them & their ancestors - wolves, which I love also

Thanks for the contributions Anne, dunno what you're apologising for, 'tis me wot's running out (of even weak ones)! Most of mine aren't suitable anyway - they're there just there to keep things ticking over (I hope).

Any more anyone?

maybe this will appeal (not material, but still): from the swahili, 1950something

"Strange people these whiteys, they eat in the garden and sh1t in the house."

How about?

When I started school aged four, in the fifties - all the Mothers and children enrolled at the same time - there was a long queue. Us post war 'baby boomers' caused a shortage of teachers and class sizes were very large. I believe there were between 45 and 50 children in my own class.

After we were parted from our Mothers, ( some forcibly with much weeping and wailing) we were taken into a classroom. Most of the children had never met each other, and none of us had seen inside a school or classroom before. We were grouped into clusters and given either a sandpit, or a classroom seesaw or some crayons and paper to share. I distinctly remember wondering why so many of the other children were crying. I can't remember much about this first classroom, but very soon the teacher discovered I could already read and write, and so I was sent into the next class, which was also so full of children, there were only enough chairs for a portion of the class to sit at any one time. The rest had to play with the sandpit or paint. As I loved my writing book, and the drawing that accompanied it, I had to be shooed away from this table, to activities which I enjoyed less. We did 'sums' too, with no explanation as far as I can remember. There were just long lists of sums on the blackboard, to add up or take away - which we copied out. I never got the hang of that.

>> ...it made me more curious about them & their ancestors - wolves, which I love...<<

We're wolves.
I mean werewolves.
Once they bite you, you belong to the pack. Forever.

~jwf~

That's clever.

I saw Johny Herbert on a Segway in the pits at the races in Trois Riveires Quebec in 2003. He smiled.

Now I think I understand why.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5pFv8CAniYQ



~jwf~

Embrace the Base Greenham Common 1982. I was 11, first big demo that I had been on. I was a little in awe of the hugeness of it all. Very colourful event, lots of music. Remember holding hands, unpicking the fence and being very scared when a woman made it through and was tackled to the ground and given a hefty boot. First time that I had ever been in close proximity to people with weapons. Over all though just remember being happy,excited,inspired and singing loads.

Love Peanut

We were driving home from a holiday in Wales and stopped at a garage for petrol. There was a woman sitting on the kerb crying her heart out and my Mum went over to see if she could offer help or comfort. When she got back she told us that Elvis had died which didn't really mean anything to us.

Thanks - keep going folks.

I'll get to it soon (promise!)

Update: I actually have made a start. First pass sorting done, into
"In Living Memory"
&
"Things we remember"