Hello from Eastbourne
No Real Halloween by Franklin Lewis Macrae
It's Halloween this weekend and it's going to be so different this year because of COVID. Trick or Treating will not be happening. Instead my parents will hide sweets in the garden and my sister and I will run around in our costumes with our head torches to try to find them in the dark. It's a shame we won't be able to go trick or treating but we can still make the most of it but it won't be like a real Halloween. It is probably our favourite festival. Marli is baking Halloween biscuits, mum bought her a skull and crossbones cookie cutter to make scary biscuits. We have decorated our house as usual with our day of the dead skulls.
Mum has bought us blank skulls to paint each year and we have quite a few now, they are all different. We have hairy spiders and skeleton dolls hanging on the door handles too. Tomorrow we will cut faces into our pumpkins. Mum did say that we could all watch a film together after the sweetie hunt but it won't be an 18. I'm desperate to watch 'Hallowean' or 'Nightmare on Elm Street' or something like that but mum and dad won't allow me to. All my friends have seen these films. I'm enjoying my half term but it is a bit annoying that we can't see our friends because of COVID.
So far, half term has been great. I still have another week to go but Marli returns to school on Monday. It has been raining lots and the cliffs aren't safe so we can't go for our usual walks. Huge chunks are falling into the sea which means as well as the cliff walks being unsafe, the beaches beneath where we walk are too. We did go for a walk through the golf course early in the morning and took our sandwiches. We have also been printing our Christmas cards and some paper. Mum bought us lots of stamps, inks and cards but I'm bored with it now.
Yesterday Marli and I helped mum tidy up the decorations in the attic. We have decorations for Christmas, Halloween and Easter and yesterday we packed them up tidily in separate boxes and put them in their own area of the attic. Mum's vintage decorations have been moved under the stairs though. I put them under there for her.
I don't know what we will do next week. Marli is back at school so maybe we will go for a walk. We can't go to many places as Brighton has lots of COVID and so does Lewes.
Swishy hair by Marli Rose Macrae
This week is half term and we did lots of printing with our new Cambridge Imprint stamps and ink. We make our own Christmas cards every year at half term. In the past we have made our Christmas cards using collage, lino printing or just drawings but this year has mostly been stamping although I did do a lino cut of a dala horse. I want to do a simple snow flake but we've ran out of lino. Daddy came up with the idea of a Christmas tree using the tiny triangle stamp. School said we can't send Christmas cards to each other this year so there won't be a school Christmas post box. I don't think they will have Christmas carols or a Christmas party. We didn't have Harvest Festival either. Mummy said we are still making cards though and sending them.
We had a walk into town and bought sweets for our Halloween celebration. We can't go trick or treating because no one will open the door because of the virus, it's not safe. We can still eat lots of sweets though! Mummy and daddy will hide the sweets in the garden and Franklin and will wear our costumes with head torches on, trying to find them. Afterwards, we can eat them in front of a fire and film. I am planning to make my cat Saskia into a witch's cat. I already have a small hat which belongs to one of my dolls but she won't mind lending it to Saskia.
We were up early this morning and helped mum with the shopping. When we got back, we helped her in the garden and as it was raining so heavily, we got very wet and muddy. I planted the muscari in a big pot and together the three of us planted the rest of the alliums. We have an enormous dried allium from the summer which we are going to spray gold for the top of the Christmas tree.
I had my hair cut at the hairdressing salon and I like it very much! It's swishy. Mummy and Franklin had to leave while I had it cut because there wasn't enough room in the salon for social distancing. On the way there we were soaked by the rain and the lady who cut my hair, named Leanne, dried me off with a hairdryer! First, I had my hair washed in one of those posh sinks and then I had a head massage. While Leanne cut my hair I chatted with her and I drank a nice cup of hot chocolate. Leanne is glamorous but I couldn't see her face because of the mask and funny glasses.
We also helped mummy tidy up the attic and organise the decorations. They were mixed up so we sorted them out into a box each for Christmas, Halloween and Easter. My daddy is pleased.
Thoughts from the Suffolk coast
Harris G, Suffolk
Thursday is here and I am determined to be on time and write a few words - although not a lot of news. Actually, I have been struck by apathy and have had a few days of feeling “fed-up”. Tuesday was the worst day. The weather was grim. Rain and really oppressive greyness. I attempted to go in to Southwold to get some milk but the town was full of half-termers with umbrellas and rain coats. Mindless people scrolling the messages on their mobile phones while jaywalking the main road. And even more wobbling shoppers emerging from behind parked cars. Traffic was fortunately slow but I gave up - just got to the end of high street and turned around. I couldn’t face queues and masks. Couldn’t muster up the energy for some false bonhomie. Went home and got into my pyjamas. No milk today, my love has gone away. Glum.
I cannot get enthusiastic about the Trump Biden shenanigans or any of the name-calling that passes for politics now. I watch the news and mutter but it feels like everything has been said. Boris pops up occasionally - a Jack in the box - promoting the various safety measures we are to live with. Tiers of a clown. I was interested to see that there is a legal challenge to the government’s rules on care home visiting. Apparently it is coming from families of people with dementia. We have a friend in hospital right now. No hospital visiting of course. I wonder how she is coping. Nothing virus related wrong with her but I imagine that the whole experience must seem space-age - almost unreal. We are looking after her little dog while she is away and we are desperate to reassure her that all is well, that the dog is settled and enjoying being with us, has made herself at home, sits on the sofa and gets on with our Jack Russell. I’ll ask her nephew to let her know.
I hope to have a good walk today. Maybe on the beach or maybe just through the lanes. A jolly good laugh would help raise my spirits. Is it just a matter of time before the next national lockdown? So many new cases...
Ah but I did watch the DVD of Nick Park’s Early Man. Absolutely brilliant. Cheered us immensely.
On that note, it is cheerio for now. Stay well and safe. X
Vie de château
Marie-Christine, Blois, France
Our Plague goes on - we should take care and have patience:
Our daughter would say : " Maman, yoga, yoga".
Covid doesn't conform to the ideas, economics or desires of anybody, it is something else, an epidemic. The problem is not only to provide a treatment for people who catch it, but to provide medical care of all kinds for those who may need it. When the case is serious, delay will be very damaging. It seems that a large number of people can't understand that. But in France, as during the spring lockdown, a lot of operations are already being postponed.
Covid deaths in the UK : 60000 in 7 months, cancer deaths every year in the UK: 165000, so soon Covid deaths will be up to half the number of deaths from cancer. In France the numbers are 40000 for Covid, and 150000 for cancer. Still some people apparently think that Covid is relatively mild. What I find bizarre is that, by some popular logic, the Covid death toll, supposed to kill only the + 65s, is acceptable when society is doing as much as possible to cure cancer or to give extra years of life to people affected by it.
Back to lock down: President Macron told us last night: restaurants, bars, small shops, hairdressers, friends diseased or 60+ ...closed. All that because some people are not respecting the basic rules of virus hygiene, M... French word.
In the back of my brain, a sharp devil is thinking: Why not close only hospitals and healthcare units and leave open everything else just for 24 hours (a lot of people find that the care system takes too much money and diverts too much energy into caring for people who are ill or old or both). I am fairly sure of a positive impact on the general attitude towards the very weathered, heavily eroded health systems in France and England.
Dr Fauci, trusted by almost everybody on earth (I am a fan) said he doesn't understand why wearing a mask should be political. For me, it is not so political in the sense of left/right or rich/poor, it is more a good way to measure selfishness: for example, D. Trump. This morning I looked at a program on Radioclassique, that I usually only listen to. I saw that the head journalist of the day (very Left politically) didn't wear a mask, even in front of a government minister or a doctor who is the head of one of the biggest AE unit in France. I emailed him to ask why and got an answer in Majuscule (equivalent of screaming in email): 1st justification, he talks into the microphone for 1h 30min (which is to do what everybody does for several hours a day at work even with a mask); 2nd, he is more than a 1.5 m from anybody (which is not a safety measure just by itself).
I will have classified him among the Covidiots - being leftwing or a journalist doesn't prevent one from being that.
The other Plague :
While I have been writing, an old lady praying, and the vicar of a church have been decapitated in Nice. Another lady trying to escape also died from wounds, and several people may have been injured (there is no definite word about that yet). The knife plague will probably stay longer with us than the virus plague.
When I consider the level of security needed just for a medical consultation - see last week's Plague20: I counted around us more than 10 security personnel for 1000 square feet - I realize that securing churches is impossible because of the numbers, the size, the architecture, the environment... It is the second time that church goers have been killed in France by Islamist terrorists.
Macron also said last week "Ils ne passeront pas", probably thinking of the Spanish Civil War 1936-1939, "no passaran", except that Général Franco did go through. Better think of Général Nivelle in Verdun
in 1916, " ils ne passeront pas" (the Germans), it was not a clear victory, but the German Army did not go through. I hope it will go this way, not the Spanish one. I am always frozen when politicians use famous historical quotations, they often miss the point, maybe it's their PR's mistake. The France of the Enlightenment is darkening. As Donald T. says," We'll see what happens".
Macron's feelings are cold toward the Turkish President, but he says nothing about NATO of which Turkey is a member. By the way, B. Johnson seems very positive about NATO while he attacks EU countries who belong to NATO.
A glimpse of our trip to Lille: We were lucky, the Covid restrictions were rather moderate at that time. We went to two cello concerts of Mischa Maisky. One with cello and orchestra: a Tchaikovsky nocturne and his Rococo Variations, then R. Strauss's Metamorphosen - one of Rob's favorite pieces of music. The next day, some Beethoven variations and some Britten pieces (with Maisky's daughter at the piano). After almost a year of online operas and CDs it was refreshing to listen to live music. Safety mesures: two empty seats between each person in the audience, and only one hour of music in one go.
We went to the William Kentridge exhibition (look at his work and his videos on Youtube, we love them). The building and sculpture park make a wonderful "island" in a big city, and there is a very good permanent collection (a donation by a collector, so quite a homogenous taste - I like that) for which we had very little time. The Kentridge exhibition took us three hours - we are very contemplative in museums - his black and white quick drawings are fascinating, Rembrandt class.
We also went to Le Louvre Lens - an extension of the museum in Paris, near Lille. We saw the exhibition "Soleil noirs", a full exploration of the colour black. Most of the works of art were unknown to us, everything beautiful and obviously well chosen by a brilliant team. This even included selections from films, among them The Night of the Hunter, and Hitchcock's Rebecca, and a room of magnificent black dresses. The exhibition ended with Soulages as it should, very soothing after so much black emotion.
We had the compulsory afternoon in François Giard's bookshop, THE bouquiniste of Lille. I got for five euros an old poster of Ubac from the Maeght Gallery. My name for Ubac style is Rural Abstraction, all those pictures of ploughed furrows. Rob went very Janseniste and pious, he got five books of the Port Royal Bible translated by Lemaistre de Sacy. He said it's to learn French better and that he will be helped by the Latin on the other page! I still have doubts of Rob mastering good XVII century French, but like all English writers he will turn catholic one day and then have thousands of pages of de Sacy to read (the volumes contain a commentary, full of the Church Fathers, as well as the translation).
Florist in lockdown
Jane, Near Manchester, England
Not much to report this week, I have given up trying to decipher the latest rules and guidelines and am just going to work as usual. We’ve got a busy weekend ahead. We are doing a wedding! It should have been a lavish affair for over two hundred guests, but now it’s just a few flower displays and bouquets and flower crowns for the bridal party. The bride and her six bridesmaids! That’s a lot of wiring! We are also ready for the festive season at the shop. Christmas stock is on display and already selling.
Here’s a message for Elle, from Oldham - I hears you sister! You are not alone! Menopause is challenging, sweaty and confusing! I shout such offensive language at the tv and radio I wouldn’t be surprised if my neighbours thought I had tourettes.
I have mostly been binge watching Harlots series 3 and making autumn wreaths lately. I am completely obsessed with the interior sets on Harlots. The colours are amazing. The dark kitchen walls are what can only be described as a deep beetroot colour. The posh lounge on Golden Square is an indescribable green, is it arsenic?
Good luck to David H for his portrayal of Alan Bennett this week.
Keep well everyone xxxxxxxxxx
Musings from self isolation
Billy Hearld, York
York, currently in tier two of restrictions and rather cold and drizzly, seems somewhat less subdued than one might expect, with the town centre, seemingly, as bustling as ever. Our first break since school began, a one week half term holiday, we decided to spend a part of in Scarborough, and so drove away from the rain and cold of York, and into the rain and cold of the coast. We spent three days staying in a small cabin on the outskirts of the town, lit only by fairy lights, and with a wood fired hot tub which was lovely. Wandering along the beach, one was struck by the sheer numbers of people, most wearing masks, who had thronged to the seaside. Since coming home, I’ve been trying, as best I can, to keep abreast of homework and revision, hindered, somewhat, by persistent connection issues which make online school a little trying at times. Of course, it’s utterly fantastic to be back at school full time, to have some semblance of normality to which to cling, and to be occupied, albeit by schoolwork.
View from the Top of the Hill
Linzy Lyne, Pateley Bridge
Taking on board the comment last week about the lack of visual submissions, I thought it was about time I included a photo of the actual view from the top of the hill, so I went forth with my camera this morning. Unfortunately the changeable weather has muted the lovely autumn colours so the overall effect is a little gloomy, much like my mood in recent days. However, also included is a photo of one of our hens, Warren, who has recovered well from her long moult, when she became so bald I thought her feathers would never grow back. She's looking great and so is Pidgie, still happily coming to the kitchen door every day for his corn. We're still waiting to see if our woodpeckers and barn owls will return. We haven't seen them since the severe storms we had earlier in the year.
One of our Sainsbury's drivers once said "You're not the sort of farmers who name your chickens are you?" and I had to reply that we were. (We're not farmers but as we live on a farm that's a natural mistake). Not only that, but I can reel off the names of every one of them from the last ten years of poultry-keeping. I can also tell you the name of every pony at the riding school I went to on Saturdays when I was about nine and every cat I've had throughout my life.
However, can I remember what I did yesterday? Not always. Richard and I have become one another's memory boosters, one of the benefits of a long marriage and shared interests. If I have forgotten something, he can usually plug the gap and vice versa. Since my friend's husband died last week I have become aware that when, not if, one of us goes there will only be half a memory left and that is rather disturbing.
Filling my memory gaps from before I met Richard are several cousins who remember events from our childhood and now my old school Facebook page, which has given me unexpected pleasure through lockdown. I hated that school and couldn't wait to leave at fifteen, dashing my Dad's hopes for an academic career which would live up to my 11-plus result. How wonderful to draw from that dismal period of my life some lost memories of long forgotten teachers, like Miss Downie (French) who seemed to spend every lesson telling us about truffle-hunting, and Miss Buckley (History) who went out to do her shopping during our double period on Thursday afternoon and was a harridan for enforcing the strict school uniform rules. Who would have thought that other people would have also kept the domestic science aprons they made in needlework, or still remember Miss Flower's instructions for washing up - "Glasses, Cutlery, Non-greasy dishes, Greasy dishes, Pans"!
What will we remember from this period of our lives, I wonder, assuming we live to tell the tale? For me it will be the incessant news coverage, although of course we could decide not to watch it any more. It will be missing friends and family and mainly the lack of contact with our grandchildren. My son is in Sydney and I am used to him being so far away but my daughter and her two boys are only twenty-five miles away in West Yorkshire and they might as well be in Australia. I was used to having them to stay for two days a week and being connected with their lives in a way that is not currently possible. They're going to miss having their Hallowe'en party, an eagerly anticipated annual treat, although they have put up decorations anyway.
Today the news is that 1% of the population of England now have the virus. (One in thirty-seven in Yorkshire). I think we will probably be having that total lockdown that the government is resisting so strenuously. I don't think my memory is playing tricks when it tells me this is what happened in the first wave. The government delayed locking down until after other countries in Europe and then were accused of acting too late. Dither and delay as Boris once said about Brexit. My guess is that the money has long since run out and they will be unable to make the "generous" payments they dished out in the spring to keep businesses afloat.
We are now hunkering down, awaiting the US election result. I fear that whichever way it goes, it will not be the end of division and unrest and hope all our American friends stay safe.
A final note. I find a lot of interesting things left inside books I get in auctions. Thousand of old bus tickets and greetings cards and sometimes personal and touching letters. Once even an M&S gift voucher, not yet expired, which provided Richard with a new shirt. The latest though has me a little foxed. I found a whole notebook inside a book, all the pages blank except the top one, which says:
The End is Nigh but
Answers on a postcard please.
From a very small Island
Michael Johnston, Isle of Wight
It’s been a week that started one way and seems to be ending on a very different note. Last Friday morning I started a migraine episode. Unlike many, I don’t seem to get a bad headache, but have the aura (bizarre visual effects) alone. More so recently than in the past that seems be a precursor to mood changes that can be quite extreme. The result was that last weekend was mostly spent by me in very low mood, which sadly I know caused difficulty to those around me. As fast as it came on, the low mood seemed to lift, so that later on Sunday I was left wondering what had happened and where exactly the feelings had come from – and I am still wondering. The only explanation I can think of is that it must be chemical in some way, and I am left speculating as to how such apparently real emotional changes can happen out of the blue. The state of the world and the plague influences how I feel and think, but there seems to be an inner influence of some kind that affects my emotional response to a greater extent than any harsh external reality.
Anyway, best beloved and I are now – on Thursday – enjoying a cruise! This is not a real cruise of course, but a virtual activity as are so many others nowadays. At this time of year we would probably be boarding one of Fred Olsen’s ships for either a cold and wet northern European trip, or perhaps something in warmer climes. We are now together for a few days in my house, which has been converted into a ship! This probably seems completely loopy, and it is, but we think such make believe has a chance of maintaining our mental wellbeing when all about looks so bleak. The kitchen/diner is now the Ballindalloch Restaurant, the bedrooms are cabins, the garden room is the Observatory Lounge and the bathroom the Emergency Assembly Point! This evening we were in Bremen enjoying gluhwein and bratwurst. By tomorrow lunchtime, following a shore excursion – otherwise a trip to the grounds of Osborne House – we will arrive in Amsterdam for a light lunch including Edam and Gouda cheese of course. Antwerp will follow with gaufres (waffles) served with Belgian chocolate sauce. So the next few days will pass with entertainment and food from places such as the Canary Islands and Portugal. Well, it’s light relief, and generally happy making for us - we are not harming anyone. By the way, dress code tomorrow night will be formal!
On other matters, I am really happy that my youngest now owns her house. That has been a long time coming – in fact 18 months since she started searching. I think she will be happy there.
I hope other journalistas are finding weird ways of being happy in this blighted world...
Hilary Q, North Norfolk
I am sitting surrounded by piles of books and dismantled bookshelves. Supposedly, a seriously fast fibre connection is coming to our dwelling. Thrice it has been scheduled by Openreach and thrice it hasn’t happened. It is now scheduled for 4th November but we can’t be bothered to reinstate the books. Apparently, a hole has to be drilled from the inside of the house at an as yet undetermined point BEHIND the bookshelves!!! The wall is ancient, very thick and flint. I fear there will be more chapters to add to this saga!
The upside is that last night, I happened upon my husband’s copy of Fitzroy Maclean’s ‘Eastern Approaches’. Why have I never read this marvellous book? Apparently the author was Ian Fleming’s inspiration for James Bond!
BUT I am somewhat overwhelmed by books at the moment. In addition to this disruption on the home front, I have spent two days this week at the bookshop tidying up behind cold, wet, tired and bored families who don’t want to know about covid protocols... or books for that matter! This followed on from the previous week when, as part of a three person team, I helped to install and catalogue a massive academic library at a stately home! This was the third phase of a project which started this time last year. The second phase occurred just before Lockdown and now all being well we will make the final push in mid November. I have loved the project... not least because I have learned so much from my young colleagues both of whom are ex Maggs and Hayward Hill. It has also been rather special to live in at the Hall!
The bookish theme continued with the arrival yesterday of Mermaid’s latest list which presented the opportunity to chat with Peter and Margaret... and order two more books! No sooner had I put down the telephone than Amazon delivered ‘British Designers at Home’... a hefty tome which would have been more accurately titled ‘The Insiders’ Guide to the Inside’. Just as I slapped this shut, the door knocker rattled again and, bemasked, stood neighbours who had left Norfolk six years ago! They were visiting for half term. Of course, they tumbled in and out tumbled news of their lives twixt Surrey and Sweden. It was spontaneous. It was heartwarming. But in this week of all weeks I do hope our joy was not irresponsible.
Shelves I have had to empty and partially dismantle in preparation for Fibre...
The bookshop window decorated for Halloween... photo taken from outside with the trees behind me reflected in the window...
Eastern Approaches by Fitzroy Maclean...
Nicky, Vermont, USA
I’ve missed the last two weeks because, in part anyway, I got involved in creating a fundraiser.
In Massachusetts, about two and half hours south of us, there’s a program that gives English language classes and other support to recent refugees. It’s a big organization, three offices, hired stuff, teachers, and every year they have a fundraiser where participants write a poem a day and get people they know to sponsor them. I’ve been flirting with the idea of doing it and this year I thought I would, but I thought I’d do it while fundraising instead for our local organization whose need feels more urgent: ASAN. Asylum Seekers Assistance Network. This small group of determined local people, mostly in their ’70’s and 80’s, have managed to get a family out of detention and is continuing to support them, because asylum seekers are not allowed to work for a couple of years while their cases wend through the courts. Supporting asylum seekers is not cheap. ASAN would urgently like to get more people out of detention. Detention is a jail where the asylum seekers are mistreated, and are at very high risk of getting COVID.
So I thought I would do my own little fundraiser, write a poem a day and ask people to donate to ASAN and I’d send my sponsors a poem a day if they wanted. This is just for the month of November I should hasten to add. But before I started I thought I should go to the organization’s meeting and make sure this was okay with them. Half an hour later I had a much larger project and a couple of people to help me. Tentatively called March Arts Marathon, next March participants will daily write (poem, essay…) or daily sketch or paint. And get sponsors who will then receive the poem/essay/sketch painting produced every day if they wish. Now I am working to get a website set up, get the word out, etc. etc. etc. And in the meantime I am doing the Nov. poem a day to see how it works and if I can do it. So I’ve been busy! And very anxious about this, though I did relax once I realized the any money raised for ASAN was better than nothing, that I didn’t have to manage to raise $50,000!
And of course, because of COVID, this is all going to happen on line. Let me know if anyone is interested in creating a poem/sketch/painting a day for the month of March 2021, and I’ll get you the info once I’ve worked it all out!
In the meantime I did read our journal, and I so appreciate that you are all writing and sharing your lives and perspectives. And a big shout out to Chris Dell’s View from Crazy Town. Thank you for the laughter… while skewering our current administration.
I hope everyone is doing well while darkness looms. Here it's dark in the morning and the kind of damp cold that I associate with England in the winter. I’m consistently colder in October or November in Vermont than in the deep winter when the temperatures go way below freezing. I’m glad to have the fundraising project because it will help carry me through. I hope. And this is not to mention the election. Or the virus.
My feelings on paper
Barbara Warsop, Sheffield, Yorkshire
Thursday 29th October
I set out today to make my Xmas cake having made 3 Xmas puddings on Monday and spending two days boiling them for 8 hours each and burning the pan in the process, forgetting it needed constant water adding to stop it drying out. My kenwood mixer was working overtime today mixing butter and sugar when that went up in smoke. I quickly turned it off and did the rest by hand mixing. The recipe said 3 hours baking so I got it in the oven and looked at it after 2 1/2 hours and well, it looked burned.
Oh dear I am not up to all this baking at my age these days.
Its now a very dry cake that I put a lot of lovely ingredients in.
I wanted to write a more positive piece this week extolling my virtues. Well I can forget that piece of contradiction.
I wanted to show how lucky I am living with a wonderful view from my rocking chair and the lane where I do my regular walk. Last week having the company of two of my daughters on separate occasions.
Remembering that even if we didn't have Covid 19, I would still have to get used to living alone having lost my husband in 2019. I have just started feeling positive about things and getting on with life as it is. Perhaps I will invest in another mixer with the money I have saved by not going out or on holiday for a whole year now.
On the news the other day I watched a reporter interview an 82 year old woman at a shopping center.
She had no mask on and was adamant that she was not staying in as she doesn't have many more years left in life and was going to get on with enjoying herself and couldn't care less about wearing a mask.
I had to admire her determination.
I read with pleasure Peter Scuphams contribution last week when he mentioned Ex lax which reminded me of a poem I read by Mick Westwood, a retired miner.
One day we went to Hegg’s shop some sweeties for to buy
We saw this new type chocolate, now please don’t ask me why
It was small in a blue packet all very neat and flat
And all of us decided we were having some of that
We thought it gave you vigor . It had get up and go
So we ate it all between us - but little did we know
It will make you feel more comfortable - you`ll be able to relax
That`s what it said on the box we read on the chocolate called Ex lax
We went off on our travels, but it wasn’t very long
Things started to unravel, and although we still felt strong
Our exhaust pipes "were working" we were talking from the rear
By then we were down Ruffits and we thought whats happening here
We had the runs all of us, This is all negative
That chocolate, we thought energy, was a full blown laxative
We’d overdosed, we had killed ourselves
There would be now’t left of this chap
The only thing they would salvage, would be the bent peak on me cap
We were racing to the bushes, hiding everywhere
Doing the unmentionable with our bums in the air
And to this day, in my own way
There is a lesson to be learned
Always carry paper don’t rely on winter fern
By Mick Westwood