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Wednesday, 5 August 2026

Sunday outing

 An unexpected surprise ~ Sunday outing

Barbara Thomas


A few Sundays ago we were all geared up to drive over to Shoeburyness in Essex. Me my husband step-son and his partner. 

Unfortunately at the last moment the outing was cancelled. We had intended to visit our granddaughter her partner and great grandaughter.

my granddaughters partner is involved with teaching children of school age football so it was agreed the visit would be put on hold. 

There we were all dressed up but nowhere to go, “as the saying goes”.

My husband asked his son what if we visited the old Hopfields in and around Tunbridge Kent.

Tom, my husband came from a large South London family, and in those days, my husband who is now 87, said that that was the only way families with limited amount of monies, (South London and East London) could afford holidays. Their parents put pennies away to pay train fares throughout the year (no cars then), the family would be met by the farmer at wherever the Hop fields were active and then he would put belongings on back of open lorry, in my husbands case, Tonbridge station, the family would also climb into the back with everything they would need for sometimes as long as three weeks.

Therefore firstly earning wages picking off the vines and secondly having a break from the big smoke i.e. London. 

All four of us agreed that would be a great idea, Nicky drove our car, my husband sat in the front with the two women seated at the back.

It was a beautiful day not to hot, Nicky, my step-son was being guided by his Dad. Who you can well imagine had no end of tales to tell us. Nicky followed his Dads instructions which read “walks to Hop fields”. But of course the Hop fields were long gone, in their place were rows and rows of orchard trees. That didn’t stop my husband in reveling in what had been there.

I noticed a break in the field advertising Kent Cherries, and Strawberries.  I am a sucker for juicy Kent soft fruits.

So Nicky pulled up in front of a little wooden hut.

Once punnets where ordered and distributed amongst us, my husband said to the man aged around 30, who had been serving, that in his day (70 odd years ago) how he still remembered the farmers name, a Mr. Earl who lived in the farm house further up the hill. The young man said, “how strange that’s my surname but I had never heard of the farmer or farm”. 

As it was lunch time my step-son asked could the man suggest where we could get some lunch.

We were directed along the narrow hedges to several pubs but as you can imagine on Sunday afternoon all the car-parks were full.

Nicky persisted and he pulled into a large public house, easy parking, we all went inside, lunch was ordered. It was decided to order a Roast Platter which worked out for 3 people at the grand price of £25.00

I unfortunately am a Celiac so I bring my lunch with me.

All the other dinners were priced at £25.00 extra for roast potatoes extra veg even gravy. That was well spotted by me, the platter!! Enough for small appetite’s

but with beef, chicken, pork baked potatoes plus veg.

Drinks of course were extra!!!!

Whilst we were sitting there, a whole assortment of people arrived, young, and old, babies, toddlers. The four of us were intrigued considering the prices, so Nicky went up to the bar after the crowd dispersed to be told that people paid £45.00 a head for a meal and a guide, to take them on local walks along the fields and, lanes etc.

My husband being an ex-publican was very interest what brewers it belong too and found out it was a family run free-house.

He was very impressed in this day and age, business looked like it was blooming.

The name of the pub was “THE POACHER AND THE PARTRIDGE”, in case you want to visit. 

Well we made our way happily to the car and Nicky brought us safely home. 

My husband talked about it for days, all in all it was a great day out.

 

 

Copyright Barbara Thomas

 

Tuesday, 4 August 2026

Life’s shadows

 Life’s shadows 

By Rob Kingston

 

spring equinox 

a hedgehogs’ squeal

breaks the silence

 

Moving around in the darkness is as challenging as the daylight for some of our animal friends. Like us, they too have a desire of epicurean delights when working through chance ingredients.

 

kaleidoscope 

turning through the balance

poker chips 

 

Copyright Robert Kingston

Monday, 3 August 2026

A cold winter in Starvelarks Wood

 This poem is one of four based on the seasons of the year. Each one has a different tempo and structure. I started by choosing one word to summarise each season. So, winter is stillness, spring is frenetic, summer is slow, and autumn is languid. These reflect the pace of the season and the atmosphere of the poem. I hope it has worked. Let me know in the comments. The others are in older posts. Starvelarks Wood is the remnant of a sweet chestnut plantation in Thundersley, Essex.

 

A cold winter in Starvelarks Wood

 


Silent stands the frozen wood,

A stillness filled with leaden air.

No creature stirs among its roots,

But the angel of despair.

 

Snow falls softly through leafless limbs,

Laden with that heavy fall.

The chattering nuthatch rarely sings,

No one to hear her call.

 

A fox’s bark, a streak of red,

Echoes through the naked copse.

A flash of grey, the vole is dead,

Her cubs will eat her corpse.

 

A barn owl looks upon that sight.

She must live and feed her young.

Indifferent to that creature’s plight,

Her chance will sometime come.

 

A rushing winds, painful bight,

A moment filled with fear.

Then she’s gone and out of sight,

Nature sheds no tear.

 

The muffled sound of falling snow,

Lands softly on the forest floor.

How long, how long ‘till winter goes,

And spring is at the door.

 

Copyright, Christopher Mathews, July 2026


 

Sunday, 2 August 2026

Dreamscape (part 3 and Last)

Dreamscape (part 3 and Last)

By Len Morgan 


“I think we should run it by the director…” said Jak.

.-…-. 

“As you suggested Kevin, we are beginning to test a wider, more mature range of subjects, and have advised our partners in other countries to do the same.  Now we can only wait and see if the revised parameters bear fruit.”

Over the next few weeks, I made dream trips within the solar system, scapeing the moons of Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus and Neptune.

I never received direct evidence of success or failure and to be honest I didn’t get much feedback from the program; nor did I expect it.  The excitement of the people around me was enough to tell me that we were making progress.

Three weeks later we received feedback from Australia, Mexico and Canada. All three had located likely subjects, and in the fullness of time others were found including Julie who hails from Scotland, she lived ten miles from the project. So, the program proceeds at pace…

As promised I received tuition at golf and have become quite proficient; handicap 13.  I have become a proficient sous chef, exceeding my expectations by far. 

.-…-. 

The search is now on to increase the speed of conventional rocketry.  AI is working on practical solutions. In the short term we will be exploring the asteroid belt and moons for commercial projects.

AI is still working on practical solutions for us to visit nearby star systems ‘in a human lifetime’ at or near the speed of light.  But it’s a pipedream; carboxy lifeforms could never survive the acceleration and deceleration speeds required, or survive the boredom?  We would need so much food, oxygen, water and fuel.  One ship would consume all the resources of the earth with no guarantee of success. I guess animals like us ‘flesh & bone’ are too fragile and short lived.  We are, in my opinion, ‘stop at home creatures’ destined to stay in the solar system until the Sun runs out of fuel.

But, AI may yet hold out hope…  Miniaturization could be a possibility, tiny working machines under the contol of a central AI hub, would reduce weight on a long journey.

The best chance of carrying fauna and flora from earth to the stars would be in the modern equivalent of Noahs Ark; as seeds, eggs and sperm to be born on arrival at their destination; under the guidance of machines. So, AI would continue life on a new world, or be our legacy… 

.-…-.

 

Dreamscape has identified 27 possible targets to date, to which, in theory, small ships could be sent.  Given the right conditions oxygenating plants could improve the atmosphere until it is breathable, at which time, in theory, animals could be birthed, and I hope this might be accomplished one day.

Kevin Monaghan.

 

.-…-.

My dreams have ceased to be relevant to the program of late.  I dream of my younger days with Linda & the kids.  I don’t mind that because I recall them fondly.  I’ve dropped out of the program with gratitude from its members, and fervently hope the exciting programs for space travel will come to pass.  I know humanity will go on after I have gone.

I’m told they are working on the creation of ‘Warp Drive’ and the Casimir Effect, producing ‘Warp Bubbles’ using dark matter as fuel; they could in theory enable travel at 10x light speed, maybe more it's all beyond me. But they believe it could happen, Maybe not in my lifetime but, possibly by the 22nd Century…

 

Copyright Len Morgan

  

Friday, 31 July 2026

Dreamscape (part 2 of 3)

 Dreamscape (part 2 of 3) 

By Len Morgan


“Is there anything you would add to improve the amenities at this facility Kevin?”

“I’m into crafts, woodwork, painting, playing music, and I haven’t yet found the library…”

“Actually, all our books are now on computer, you can access any books, newspapers, music, quizzes, all on your consul over there in the corner. Turn it on and ask the AI librarian for what you want. You are already signed in. If you prefer paper books the AI will print them for you.”

“I’ve never been much of a sports man, but I would love to learn to play golf.  With all this money I’m earning I could afford to take up golf…”

“We will arrange an instructor for you.”

“Amazing!” I said ‘Am I dreaming?’ “Guess it’s dream time, I’d best get ready to dream…”

“Ah, that’s the surprise, they’ve completed the new observation dome, from it you will be able to view a greater area of sky, and it can be rotated to centre on our area of interest.  Follow me to your new sleeping quarters,” she said.

From a prone position, I would be able to view the sky magnified many times… “Will you be able to centre the circle as the earth moves?” I asked.

“That’s the clever part, the dome revolves to keep the target centralized,” she said.

“So what is our next target?”

“Uh, no pressure on you tonight, we are planning to test your limitations, by targeting a nearby star system 4.2 lightyears. It’s ‘Proxima Centori b’, we want you to view a rocky planet within its Goldilocks zone…”

“What is a light year anyway?”

“Light always travels at 5.88 trillion miles a year. But, you can do it in one night!”

“No pressure then,” I said.

.-…-. 

Next morning I went to the gymn to workout and splash around in the pool for half an hour. Then went for breakfast; porridge then a full English, and three glasses of milk, I’d never felt so hungry in my life.

Three men in white coats entered and approached my table.

“Good morning Gents, have you ordered?” I asked.

“Mr Monaghan…”

“Call me Kevin please,” I said.

“We’ve been observing you since you first arrived. You engaged in a much heavier exercise routine and you have consumed twice your normal calorie intake. How do you feel now?”

“Well, to be honest I still feel hungry, I was about to order another breakfast, Do I have to pay for extra’s?”

The spokesman smiled, “Of course not Kevin, after the trip you’ve just taken it’s quite understandable, 4.2 light years in a day?”

“Where’s Milli?” I asked.

“She has been reassigned…”

“I like Milli. Why is everybody being reassigned?”  I sniffed my armpit, “Is it me?”

“I’m afraid that is above my pay grade Kevin,” he said.

“Is there any point in me asking your name, or will you be reassigned?”

“My name is Jak, as to reassignment, I don’t know…”

“Don’t tell me, it above your pay grade Jak?”

“Quite!”

So I ordered A third English breakfast. “I would like to check my bank balance, so could you direct me to a terminal. I’d like to check that the money I’ve been promised has actually gone in.” At which point my breakfast arrived.

“There is a terminal available to you just as soon as you have finished your breakfast.”

“Thank you Jak.” I'm still famished so I tucked in and quaffed two mugs of coffee. “Tell me Jak are you a man or a cybertron?”

He smiled, neither confirming nor denying his status. “Milli as well?” I asked.

“What alerted you?” He asked.

 

Since retiring I had never imagined receiving £1000 a day free of tax.  I’d spent nothing, the balance was beyond my expectation, then I saw the date on the statement. “What is the date Jak?”

He answered immediately, “28th August 2056.”

“Then I’ve lost a day,” I said.

“No, you slept for 56 hours continuously, but the dreamscape only recorded the last 36hours; that is its upper limit. We thought to wake you in case you were in difficulties.”

“Why?”

“Your our only asset, and we love you...”

“A joke?  Ha ha, so you do have a sense of humour Jak.”

So, Dreamscape is subject to the passage of time, that’s interesting,’ I thought.

Jak cocked his head slightly left, “The director wishes to speak with you, it seems quite urgent!”

I closed down the portal and stood up, “lead the way Jak.”

“Please sit Kevin. I’ve received so sad news concerning your wife, Linda …”

“She has Alzheimer’s and stage 4 cancer…” I said.

“I'm afraid she passed away yesterday evening; please accept our condolences. Arrangements have been made for her burial in two days time, and travel has been arranged for you, and a car will be waiting at the front gate when you’re ready. Your flight will take off in two hours.  Take as long as you need to grieve.” 

.-…-. 

We took three days to mourn and settle Linda’s affairs. My life had been turned upside down.  We had shared some good memories, and some bad; very bad; since my retirement. The dogs welcomed me home, they were comforting. 

.-…-. 

On my return to Scotland, I felt guilty that I was not contributing enough to the workings of the community.  Since retiring I have become a pretty good cook, or I could be a cleaner, even a filing clerk, any roll that would justify my existence on the project anything rather than being a sponger which is how I currently feel. I requested a meeting with the director to let him know how I felt.

“I don’t want to be a spare part, I want to work in some capacity sir!”

“Let me assure you that you are contributing.  You are the only one so far that is giving our work meaning.  We have tested thousands of dreamscape gamers so far, and you are our only success to date.  You are providing us a window into the future of humanity. The search is worldwide but so far no other country has discovered an asset like you Kevin.”

“So how can I help with the day to day running?” I asked.

“I would suggest you look around and offer your services wherever you think it’s needed.”

“Will that be enough?”

“Honestly I don’t know Kevin, just give it a go and let me know how you are progressing.” He said.

“I’ll do it!” I said.

“The doctor feels that a weekly insulin patch is advisable, your other medication can also be extended to last a week…”

“Is there a new target for me sir?”

“Yes, but it would be a voluntary task; given that ‘Teegarten’s Star b’ is 12.5 light years away, it's potentially the nearest habitable exoplanet.  It’s 3 times the distance to Proxima Centauri; and that took you 2 days. This journey might take you 5-6 days.”

“I understand that at my age it could be a risk, but there is nobody else available,” I said.

“It’s your choice Kevin, I’ll not try to influence you. I’ll just say that you would be acting in the interest of all humanity.  The UK is not alone in this search. There are scientists the world over sharing in the knowledge we gleen from this research…”

“I’ll do it!”

At the hospital wing Dr Hussein explained the plan they had devised to ensure my safety, while placing a canular in my arm, “This will be used to feed nutrients to your body when necessary.”

That night in the dome, I was orientated towards ‘Teegartens b’.

“Good luck Kevin,” said Jak.”

“I smiled, “Thanks Jak.  Will you be here on my return, or will you be reassigned,” I asked.

“Who can say?” he said.

.-…-.

Three days later I resurfaced…

“It’s Milli, how are you feeling Kevin?”

“Would you believe tired?”

She laughed, “hold still while doctor Hussein removes your canular and checks you over.”

“Well Doc, am I still alive?”

He removed his stethoscope and said, “You’re as fit as an 80 year old,” he smiled.

“But I’m only 70 Doc,” I said alarmed at the implication.

“Heh heh! You must allow me my small wimsey. Your as fit as you were when you took your long sleep. Your body has responded well to medication so I’m happy to pronounce you fit for all normal activities.”

“I thought I would be starving hungry, but I’m Not!?  So I intend to exercise, swim, and eat breakfast in the canteen with my friend Milli! Any objections to that doc?”

“Go for it Kevin! You’ll live to be a hundred,” he laughed.

“Where’s Milli, where are my clothes?”

.-…-.

I was tucking into a delightful Fettuccini Alfredo, best I’ve ever had. Milli sat beside me.

“We’ve got one Kevin! Come view what you found on ‘Teegartens b’ it’s incredible…”

The Dreamscape recording was in colour; “never realized I dream in colour. Water was flowing over rocks stained with green and brown. That’s life Kevin, that’s water and there’s an atmosphere. We don’t know what the gases are but the water is H20, which means the exoplanet is definitely Earthlike, and ready for exploration, It’s so wonderful!” She kissed me, and I kissed her back...

“So what comes next?” I asked.

“We go to your old accommodation…” she looked into my eyes, and smiled.

At which point Jak joined us. “What news!” He said.

“The Director wants to see you,” he added.

I wiped my plate with a pulled slice of Pugliese bread, and we all headed for the directors office.

“They’ve told you the news!”

“Yes, so I guess you you wont need me around any more?”

“Are you resigning Kevin, you want a rise? I can justify doubling your

salary on the strength of this discovery,” He said.

“No! An increase would be very welcome but I’m quite happy…

“Doctor Hussein wants to run a full program of tests to ensure you will be able to keep up with the pace of our proposed schedule.”

.-…-.

“I’m ready Doc do your worst…”

“The thing is, you are our only reliable subject, so we have to keep you fit and healthy. We don’t want to overtax you.”

“I’ve been thinking about that problem. It seems to me that all the people you have been testing are Gamers, and under the age of 35. We olduns don’t have much interest in gaming.”

“What are you implying Kevin?”

“Well, I wasn’t a Gamer so you only found me by accident. My age group have a different mind set. Maybe widening your search would show results Doc?”

“I think we should run it by the director…”


(To be Continued)

 


Copyright Len Morgan

Thursday, 30 July 2026

Nonsense Poem

 Homework 01 (Nonsense Poem)

Jane Goodhew



Sat in the garden

Late at night

The silence was deafening

As I waited in the darkness

And looked into a kaleidoscope

Which I had mistaken for a telescope

And I had to balance on a log

To avoid standing on a prickly hedgehog

Or perhaps roasting it for an Epicurean feast

But that would have made me no better than a beast




Monday, 27 July 2026

THE FREEZER

 THE FREEZER

by Bob French


A week before Christmas, all Billy could think about was the Galaxy 500. Not just any skateboard. The Galaxy 500. It had soft rubber wheels that hardly made a sound, shiny silver trucks, and the best suspension you could imagine. Gary said you could jump kerbs without rattling your teeth loose and Jemma swore she'd seen one fly down Miller's Hill faster than a bicycle.

          Billy wanted one so badly it hurt. Every evening, after school, he would stop outside Mr. Collin’s sports shop and stare through the window at the bright blue board perched on its stand. Sometimes he imagined it was already his. He could almost feel the grip tape beneath his trainers. But dreams didn't cost anything, the skateboard did.

          His mum worked long hours, and her boyfriend, Alf, seemed to spend more time sitting in the kitchen with a can of lager than doing anything useful. When Alf had been drinking, everyone learned to keep out of his way, that included Pongo.

Pongo was Billy’s scruffy brown dog with floppy ears, muddy paws, and a tail that never stopped wagging. Billy loved him more than anything. Pongo loved Billy too. Unfortunately, Pongo also loved chasing cats, stealing socks, chewing shoes and, every now and then, knocking over the living room coffee table while racing around after an imaginary squirrel.

          "That dog's going to be the death of me," Alf would growl whenever he found another cushion ripped open.  Billy would hug Pongo tightly and whisper, "You don't mean it, do you?" Pongo would lick his face as if to apologize.

          Whenever Alf’s temper started to rise, Billy disappeared. He hid in the cellar. Not against the back wall, never there. The back wall was always in partial darkness and belonged to the enormous white chest freezer. It sat beneath the tiny window like some sleeping monster, humming quietly to itself. His mum kept all the meat inside it. Every payday she'd fill it with packets wrapped in paper and plastic before carefully locking the lid.

          The cellar only had one weak light bulb that buzzed overhead.  What made the room scary was that when people walked past his house in the evening, street lamps outside created shadows that drifted through the tiny window, stretching into long black shapes that slid silently over the walls and the cold floor.

          To Billy, they looked like ghosts. He would sit in the darkest corner with Pongo curled beside him until the shouting upstairs stopped.

          As Christmas grew closer, the house grew noisier. Money was tight and Alf drank more. His mum looked more tired every day. Billy stopped asking Father Christmas for the Galaxy 500 because he could see the worry in her face whenever she counted coins at the kitchen table; Still...Every night he whispered the same wish before falling asleep.

          “Please. Just this once.”  Three nights before Christmas everything exploded. Pongo had pulled the Christmas turkey off the kitchen table. The bird landed on the floor. At that moment, Alf came home already drunk. When he saw the ruined dinner, he exploded with rage.

           "You useless mutt!" Pongo ran behind Billy. Alf grabbed for him. "I'll kill the stupid dog!"

Billy threw himself in front of Alf. "No!" Alf shoved him aside.

His mum rushed between them, pushing Billy behind her.

          "You leave him alone!"

Alf was shaking with anger. "I'll dump the stupid dog in the freezer!"

Billy felt every word like ice inside his chest. The freezer, the place where his mum always put all the dead meats in. The humming white box in the dark cold cellar.

          His mum stood firm. "For the last time... get out!"

Alf shouted for another minute before slamming the front door so hard the windows rattled. Billy sat on the stairs holding Pongo for what felt like hours.

          Christmas morning arrived cold and silent. Billy woke before sunrise. For one magical second, he forgot everything.

          Christmas. He raced downstairs in his pyjamas. His stocking hung over the fireplace. His heart pounded. He reached inside. An orange. A pair of socks. A chocolate coin. Nothing else.

          His stomach sank. He tried not to cry. He really did. But the tears came anyway. He carried the stocking upstairs and buried his face in his pillow. Maybe Father Christmas hadn't been able to find his house. Maybe the Galaxy 500 had always been impossible. Nearly an hour later there was a gentle knock on his bedroom door.

          "Billy?" It was his Mum. "Can we talk?" He wiped his eyes and followed her downstairs. The house felt different. Quiet, too quiet. Alf’s jacket was gone. His boots had disappeared from beside the back door.

          "Where's Alf?"

          "I asked him to leave," Mum said softly. "For good." Billy stared. Then another thought struck him. "Where's Pongo?"

His mum turned away, avoiding eye contact. His heart began racing. "Where is he?"

His Mum reached for his hand. "Come with me." She led him slowly down the stairs toward the cellar.

          Billy tried to resist.  "No..." The stairs creaked beneath their feet. The weak bulb buzzed overhead. The familiar humming filled the cold room. The freezer waited in the shadows.

          Billy couldn't breathe. His fingers tightened around his Mum's hand. She stopped beside the huge white lid.

          "I need you to be brave," she whispered. His eyes filled with tears.

“Pongo. My Poor Pongo.”

He buried his face against her skirt. "I don't want to see him Mum..."

          She stroked his hair gently, then She lifted the lid. Tommy looked.

For one terrible heartbeat he felt his legs give way as he screamed.

The sound echoed around the cellar. He stumbled backwards and landed hard on the concrete floor and began to sob. His Mum hurried to him.

          "It's all right love. It's all right."

          She helped him to his feet and gently eased him towards the open freezer. "Look again."

          Slowly...Very slowly, Billy peered into the freezer. There was no dog. No horrible secret.

Only a huge cardboard box wrapped in bright Christmas paper. Across the top was a silver label. GALAXY 500, Complete with soft rubber tyres. Super suspension. Exactly like the one from Mr. Collins' shop.

          Billy stared. He couldn't speak. He looked around wildly. Suddenly Pongo came charging from behind a stack of old boxes, barking happily before jumping up and licking his face.

Billy laughed through his tears. He hugged Pongo, then he hugged his mum even tighter.

Copyright Bob French