TONIGHTS IT’S MACDONALDS

TONIGHTS IT’S MACDONALDS 

By Bob FRENCH

    Old Uncle Ted had served for over thirty years in the Royal Navy, and although he was starting to become frail, it had never dulled his discipline. After his beloved wife Margie, passed away, he moved in with his daughter, Mandy, and her children, bringing with him a lifetime of naval habits that amused everyone in the house, especially little Henry and Clair who giggled at his strange ways, but loved his stories about those who lived on the sea. Ted was a neat, wiry man with silver hair, a clipped white moustache, and bright blue eyes that missed nothing. He favoured pressed trousers, polished brown shoes, a checked shirt, and a navy-blue cardigan, no matter the season. On Sunday’s he would attend church wearing his navy-blue blazer and Royal Navy tie. On Remembrance Day he would don his medals and for the following months he would be the talk of the little village. Every morning began with a cold shower, a shave, then he’d make his bed so tightly you could "bounce a coin on it," followed by inspecting the garden as though it were the quarterdeck. His funniest quirk was his devotion to time.

Breakfast, or ‘scran’ as he referred to it had to be served at 6 bells, that was 7 am. Lunch was to be served at 8 bells which was 12 o’clock and supper was to be at 8 bells or at 8:00 p.m. as Ted proudly announced, "8 Bells into the first dog watch!" He would glance at the clock on the mantle piece, clear his throat dramatically, then declare, "Eight Bells! Time to pipe the hands to supper!" Even if dinner was only a minute late, he would grin, tap his watch, and mutter that standards were slipping. His routines never changed, but neither did the warmth and laughter he brought to his daughter's family. Once he had finished lunch, he would take his plate and cutlery into the kitchen and wash them clean, then leave to dry. On the week ends when the children were not attending school, he would invite them to go for a run ashore, which was the term for let’s go for a short walk around the village -green. Here he would tell them stories of pirates and those ruffians who made a living off the seas. When Henry asked him about his time in the Royal Navy, he would create an exciting story that would discretely drift off what young Henry wanted to hear. Mandy would always ask him if he wanted to do something different in the afternoon, but he would always smile at her.

“No, my dear, if you can get a copy of the Times newspaper, I would be grateful. Once the newspaper had been delivered, she would arrange the dinner table and spread the newspaper out for him. She would watch him as he carefully unfolded the paper opened it to page 8, then ask for a cup of tea. By the time she got back to him he had taken out his pocket-watch and made himself comfortable.

“Thank you my dear.” Was all he would say, and then he would start the crossword. Sometimes talking to himself.  Mandy would know that if she came back into the room after 10 minutes, he would be finished.  Only once could she remember that he had been stumped by a clue and had not finished the crossword. On that occasion he took Mandy and the children out and treated them to a Wimpy meal with a milk shake.  

     Uncle Ted quickly scanned the clues, then started. Mmm, the opposite to noise?  7 down. Silence.  Purpose of a scale. Balance?  The old Roman name for the capital of Britannia?  9 across, Londinium. What piece of material is awarded for the achievement in Epicurean? Michelin Star. No too many letters. Blue Ribbon.

 Perfect. He gradually ticked off the clues until he came to one that stumped him. The Latin name for Hedgehog? 

     He studied the blank wall wracking his brain for a good two minutes. Then out of nowhere he gave a satisfying grunt. 9 down, Erinaceus. 8 across. Total lack of light? Darkness. What name was the Irish Monk of the 6^th Century better known by?

Uncle Ted grinned. “that’s easy” he muttered to himself. Saint Brendon the navigator and the saint for sailors.”

    “Last clue.” He said quietly to himself. A Phantasmagoria when moved, a complex pattern of changing scene.

     He felt a shiver of ice-cold air rush through his body. He did something he rarely did, he started to panic. Then he glanced at the pocket-watch.  He had run out of time. No matter what he did, he could not answer the clue.

 

     Suddenly the door to the dining room burst open and little Clair came in carrying something in her hand.

    “Look Uncle Ted.  Mummy bought me a super present.”  She held up the Kaleidoscope.

      With a huge grin on his face, he bent down and hugged little Clair. “That’s it. My deal Clair you are a genius.  How did you know? 

      Hearing the commotion, Mandy came rushing into the room. “Oh I’m so sorry Ted, I thought you may have finished.”

      Still laughing, Uncle Ted stood up.  “No, it alright. I got stumped on the last clue until Clair came in and I recognised what she was holding in her hand. So I still completed the cross word but not in ten minutes.”

    “Tonight, we are eating out.  I am treating you all to a meal at Macdonald’s.”

 

Copyright Bob French 

Dolly

 Dolly

By Sis Unsworth

The Country girl has said goodbye, and left the world behind.

Such energy and love of life, like hers is hard to find.

The songs she sang, came from the heart expressing real deep feeling,

of a life from poverty to fame, were always so revealing.

A sense of humour so unique could brighten up your day.

It cost a lot to look this cheap, was something she would say.

Lots of other things she said, I’m sure will still remain

like if you want to find a rainbow, you must first have the rain.

So rest in peace dear Dolly, for even though you’re gone,

reflected in the songs you wrote, your memory will live on

 

Copyright Sis Unsworth

War, what is it good for?

War, what is it good for? Absolutely nothing.

Edwin Starr 1970

By Jane Scoggins

Words and music thrusting out from Classic Gold. It was the impetus John needed. He packed a bag. Not much, just essentials, enough to tide him over. Did he know what he was doing? Not really, but the bugle had sounded, and as a trained soldier he responded. It felt like an order. Sargent McCray had stood no nonsense. A good soldier could rise from his sleep and have his boots on ready to march in 10 seconds. No questions asked, just obey. Best way, no time to fear.

War, sang Edwin Starr, ain't nothing but a heart breaker, the destruction of innocent lives. Marching purposefully to the bus station, for the coach to Carlisle. Memories of the Duke of Lancaster Regiment. An army friend retired to Carlisle. Shared memories, beers, hot pot made by Maureen. Text messages sent to family at home. Message from Carol in Glasgow.

‘Yes, come and visit. You are halfway here already. Long time no see, big brother’

A coach to Glasgow. Warm sisterly hug on arrival. A drive to Partick. Chat and banter. Two days later, a proper conversation about things that matter. John in tears. Carol comforting. PTSD? Shaking head and smiling through damp eyes.

‘No, I've run away, I've deserted my post. I can't take any more’ Sister looks bewildered.

‘But you left the army years ago’

‘Not the army, I'm deserting my marriage. It's been a war zone for years, and we are both unhappy, but Julie won't listen, won't understand and criticises me day and night, belittles me. Two weeks ago she punched me in the face. I’ve nothing left to give. I'm tired of fighting; this war between us must come to an end, and I'm ending it. I’ve messaged her. She expects me back, but I'm surrendering and walking away from the battlefield once and for all.

Copyright, Jane Scoggins

the Challenge

Darkness, Balance, Silence, Hedgehog and Kaleidoscope.

By Marion Anthony

Here is my attempt at the Challenge. to include all five words in my story

Gina was a P.A in the catering business and was staying with her colleagues in a hotel near Bournemouth.

It was coming up to Christmas, and they were all very busy. Gina finished her latest assignment and took a break. She decided to go for a walk in a nearby forest. It was winter and the nights were drawing in.  In the Darkness, Gina had to find her balance and avoid the tree roots under her feet.

The Silence was eery! 

All of a sudden, a Hedgehog ran across her path and disappeared under a bush.

After a while, Gina could see a Kaleidoscope of colours as a fairground was just about half a mile away. She eventually climbed through a fence and onto a main road.

"Now to find my way back to the hotel", she thought to herself.

Gina walked down the road and came to a road sign that she recognised. I know where I am now, she thought, relieved. It was not long before she was back at the hotel. Gina got showered and changed. There was to be a meeting of officials to be held that evening. They had come to taste samples of dishes that were planned to be served on a River Cruise ship for Epicureans. The evening was very successful, and the team were congratulated.

Gina recalled her misadventure in the woods.

I won't be walking alone in the dark in future, she thought.

Copyright Marion Anthony - Aug 2026

The Appointment

 The Appointment at 08:41 & 26 seconds

By Christopher Mathews

   “Late again for the school run and a broken fingernail too, why is my life so unfair! Perhaps I can fit in the nail salon after dropping off Porcha and Miles, then on to the boutique for my first appointment. Typical, it’s raining, my hair will be ruined.”

    The irony of a black 4.2 litre, top of the range Land Rover that had never seen a muddy field now stuck in the morning traffic had entirely escaped Tiffany. Her day was a frenetic schedule of frivolous and joyless appointments. She had this in common with her circle of ‘friends’, or were they simply competitors?

    She was approaching the busy, town centre interchange, which is always snarled up with impatient drivers and pedestrians. Driving at fits and starts through the traffic, she did the arithmetic in her head “My first appointment is 9:30 so I just have time for…”

    Her mobile rang on the seat next to her. From the corner of her eye she saw it was Jasmin.

   “It must be urgent, she normally texts me, no one about, I’ll just…” She looked down and reached for her phone but at that moment the lights changed to red and…

        At 98, Jack had lived through at least six different communities in his lifetime, but always in the same house, his parent’s house, the one where he was born. As a small boy, his town was little more than a rural village with a distinct Essex character. It was then swallowed up and became overspill from the Eastend, and later became gentrified by city traders escaping their frantic London life. Most recently, other people from all over the world came and setup little outposts of their home countries, many arriving in small boats. He felt like a man who was now living in a foreign language film, which made no sense to him. Most recently, his Highstreet was lined with overstaffed Turkish barber shops, which never had customers. They all stood in a row with the occasional vape shop and of course nail salons, the rest were charity shops or garishly signed takeaways. There seemed to be no ‘real shops’ like a baker’s, butchers or tobacconists anywhere.

        “I’ve travelled the world without leaving my house, I have!” Jack used to say to his old dog Shep. All his friends were now gone and his children moved away. Today he was clutching a letter from hospital which read;

    Your follow-up consultant appointment has been arranged for 10:32am on 28^th September. Please attend the neurology department to discuss the results of your scan, arrive early.

    Please complete the online questionnaire before attending. This can be accessed by entering your NHS number, username and ID via our online portal which can be found on the NHS website.

    You may benefit from the advice/comfort provided by our new AI generated    ‘patient’s friend helpline,’ via the above website to help you cope with your condition…

    This meant very little to Jack, and although he read the letter several times, it seemed to be written in a different language.

    He had very few pleasures left in life and no companionship now his beloved Florence was gone. Ever since he could remember he had walked to the corner where Mumbles the gentleman’s outfitters used to stand to buy a paper and a tin of tobacco.  It was now a busy intersection, a bewildering rush of traffic. Like himself, everything Jack owned, was old, tired and slow, he felt like an old 78-gramophone playing in a 33 ^1/3rd world. Shep, his old dog was now much slower too.  Even the news paper made little sense to him, but old habits…

    His mid-terraced house in Weaver Street was like an old leather-bound book in a shelf full of glossy paperbacks. He now approached the junction with a sinking feeling of apprehension. When he was a boy, he felt a thrill of excitement here in the heart of the town. In his youth, this was where the whole town met, everyone stopped as drovers took their sheep to market through here. Once, one of Mr McGregor’s pigs got loose and ran into the church! The Blacksmith’s hammer once rang out like a Church bell and the Town Crier sang out the news. The smell of freshly baked bread once filled the air, now it’s just car fumes, and foreign languages. On Sundays the whole town was silent and at rest, but now everyday the same, full of noise. Above the sound of traffic, costermongers could be heard singing out their poetic chant,

   “Three for a Cockney Hen or four for a Commodore.” A street market was held here every Wednesday for as long as he could remember. But nothing like what it was when he was a boy. Mostly, dodgy traders selling tat now. But never ask, where it comes from.

    At 08:41 & 18 seconds, the lights changed, pedestrians rushed across the road like sprinters at a starting pistol, umbrellas shielding their faces from the stinging rain. Jack hesitated, slowly taking in the bewildering scene as a pack of strangers seemed to be rushing towards him. Stepping aside he politely waited before he started crossing. Too slow, at 8:41 & 26 seconds a screech of car wheels on wet road, a black Land Rover, an inattentive driver and Jack was…

    A crazy man wearing a sandwich board stood on the corner, his banner, high above his head read;

“…It is appointed unto men once to die, but after this, the judgment.”

For Jack, that final appointment had been postponed - for now.

 

Copyright, Christopher Mathews. September 2023

 

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

 BEAUTY AND THE BEAST 

Peter Woodgate 

She is an epicurean

Of that there is no doubt

Wears clothes from posh Kaleidoscope

On the catwalk she will pout.

 

She has a perfect balance

Up and down the aisle each day

The audience watch in silence

They don’t know what to say.

 

As each day turns into darkness

She undresses in front of the mirror

In horror she sees the honest truth

There reflected an ugly gorilla.

 

Copyright Peter Woodgate

The Tiff

 The Tiff

Marion Anthony 

Gillian had just returned from New York after successfully completing her two year course. She was seated on the train to Edinburgh. If only she knew how Graham felt about her!

It had been a misunderstanding.  They had argued about the course she was enrolled in.

Trouble was, it was a two year course in New York.

Graham had looked hurt when she told him what she intended to do!

He'd accused her of being selfish and not considering his feelings.

They had been students together at University and everyone thought they were made for each other. Now she was not so sure...

If only they had not had such a fiery exchange of words before she left.

She looked out of the window and tears flowed down her cheeks, as she remembered their warm embraces in front of the fire, back home in Edinburgh.

Graham had written and agreed to meet up on her return, to discuss their future.

The rickety shaking of the rolling carriage, lulled her to sleep.

She was suddenly awakened, as the brakes were applied and the train pulled into Edinburgh station.

She gathered her luggage and stepped off the train. Her heart was pounding as she walked up the platform to the barrier.

Then she saw him standing there with his overcoat over his arm. The sun had come out and it had turned warm. Gillian could see the sun shining on his handsome face, and that familiar sparkle in his bright blue eyes.

The urgency on Graham's face, was all that she needed to know about his feelings for her.

He smiled, kissed her on the cheek, and took her luggage, helping her through the barrier.

They walked off, hand in hand, into the sunset.

Gillian knew that whatever problems beset them could be resolved.

He was her destiny!

 

Copyright Marion Anthony

Sally

Sally

Marion Anthony 

Sally was shifting some old papers out of an old suitcase that she had  stored away in the attic. Now as the family were moving to a larger house to accommodate their growing family,  she thought she would get rid of some junk. 

As she opened the suitcase a lot of leaflets and mementos fell on the floor. She quickly opened one up and read. It was an invitation from the Shipping Company that she used to work for, when she left school. 

It read that there was to be a Celebration Dinner on board one of it's vessels in a dry-dock in London.

Sally was lost in nostalgia as she read the words.

She was suddenly transported back to that night on board the Valencia. She wore a dress that she had bought especially for the occasion.

The staff and crew of the ship were all dressed up and very courteous towards the guests.

The dinner was served and Sally's eyes shone with amazement at all the different types of cuisine, along with all the cutlery and wine glasses. 

After dinner all the guests sat around on the lounge. Suddenly music started to play and she jumped up excited, she threw her handbag to the Director and shouted "Look after that for me please," grabbed Ben's hand, whom she worked with and said "Let's dance" as she pulled him off his chair.

Later they went up on deck under the stars, as he picked her up in his arms and swung her around. 

Sally had had a crush on Ben for some time. Unfortunately she had to leave her new boyfriend Colin at home.

They had been courting for the past six months.

Suddenly there was a knock on the loft door that brought Sally back to earth with a thud!

"Mummy what are you doing up here? Can I go and play next door with Julie please?" Miranda, her eight year old asked.

"Ok,” said Sally, irritated by the interruption. "Only for half an hour as dinner won't be long and daddy will be home soon.

When Miranda had gone, Sally picked up the papers and put them all back in the suitcase.

She had hopes and dreams with Ben but it seemed they came to nothing. 

“Hello, what are you doing up here?”

Sally turned around to see two lovely brown eyes looking at her lovingly.

"Hello" said Sally "Oh I was just reminiscing over some memorabilia in an old suitcase. Have you had a good day Colin?"

“It was OK," he said "But it's so nice to get home to you," He Planted a kiss on her lips. 

"We have a lot of packing up to do don't we?"

 "Yes" she replied smiling at him tenderly. "Let's go and have dinner shall we?"

Sally was happy and content to know that things always work out for the best and knew that she had made the right choice.

The future and new house adventure was so very exciting!

 

Copyright Marion Anthony 

BEFORE THE EURO

  

BEFORE THE EURO 

Peter Woodgate 

Uncivilised disorganised

And classed as somewhat barmy

Those Brits would be an easy task

For the mighty Roman army.

 

And so the legions marched along

The road’s they built with care

They walked up to the entrance

Of the Heathen’s rugged lair.

 

But here they met with fury

And a passion to be free

Those Roman hordes were driven back

Until they reached the sea.

 

It seems they could not conquer

This plucky English Lady

The tricks she used to win each fight

We’re classed as somewhat shady.

 

And so to mainland Europe

The mighty hordes returned

Their offer of a detached Rome

Had certainly been spurned.

 

Boudicca had shown them all

Brought an empire to it’s knees

Across the waves these words were heard

“And stick your bloody Sesterces”

 

Copyright Peter Woodgate

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

 

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

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

 

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 months, 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 months 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, and lives just a stones throw 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 ways 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 is 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 in the past 5 years, to which, in theory, small ships could be sent.  Given the right conditions oxygenating plants could seed and improve the atmosphere until it is breathable, at which time, in theory, animals could be born, and I hope this might be accomplished one day.

Kevin Monaghan 

 

.-…-.

My dreams have ceased to be relevant to the program of late.  I mostly dream of my younger days with Linda and the kids.  I don’t mind that because I recall them fondly.  After 10 years I’ve finally retired, again! 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 that humanity will go on long 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 21st or 22nd Century…

“Ain’t life grand!”

Copyright Len Morgan