Off track

Discussion in 'General Discussion' started by Poptop2, Apr 5, 2019.

  1. Fantastic :thumbsup:
     
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  2. DubCat

    DubCat Sponsor

    Any pictures of Ratbag? :)
     
  3. Poptop2

    Poptop2 Administrator

    At home yes. I will scan a few when I’m back. Thursday though! :)
     
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  4. Gingerbus

    Gingerbus Supporter

    You could start a blog so it’s all in one place.
    I used Wordpress to blog anonymously for a while to get my ramblings out and let people say what they thought without having any personal reason to like them. Very therapeutic.
    It’s free and easy to set up.
    You can then publish it or keep it private and send a link to it to anyone you choose.
    Just an idea as you seem to have good stories to tell and a knack for it.



    Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
     
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  5. Poptop2

    Poptop2 Administrator

    Thank you. I’ll just keep it on here for now. I’ll add a bit here and there and maybe when I feel a little more comfortable with it maybe give that a go. :thumbsup:
     
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  6. Gingerbus

    Gingerbus Supporter

    For me being anonymous was my freedom to be open, I think I get where you’re coming from.

    Enjoying the story anyway, thanks for sharing. You’re safe here.


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  7. Gingerbus

    Gingerbus Supporter

    Ps liked the digger bit. That would have seriously hacked me off for months!


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  8. Poptop2

    Poptop2 Administrator

    Me and that jcb got well acquainted over the coming years. Dave and Tom gave me all the water connections later at £170 a pop, and there were another 178 properties over the hill above the railway line. I’ll tell you about that later on :thumbsup:
     
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  9. CollyP

    CollyP Moderator

    Great story Malc, brought to life in the telling. :thumbsup:
     
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  10. Tell us about the tree :thumbsup:
     
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  11. Poptop2

    Poptop2 Administrator

    Later :)
     
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  12. Malc, I'm in a hotel in Valencia with Mrs P. She hasn't a clue who anyone on this forum is, but we've both had proper belly laughs reading Bob's perm story.

    Thanks!

    I now need to catch up on the latest instalments, so won't be going out to dinner tonight.
     
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  13. Poptop2

    Poptop2 Administrator

    Sorry :oops:
     
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  14. more! :food:
     
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  15. Brilliant looking forward to the next instalment :)
     
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  16. Poptop2

    Poptop2 Administrator

    Thanks. There is so much to tell and so much going on in those first few years that I’m struggling to put it in an order that makes sense regarding the time schedule. I may do characters and then life and progress alternatively as the story unfolds.
     
  17. Poptop2

    Poptop2 Administrator

    There was still a lot to do on our property. There was a drive to build, overgrowth to clear and garden walls to build. This wasn’t helped when David pointed out the little copse in the field and the area to the right of it was ours too, and told me he had made plans to have it fenced with post and rail to distinguish my boundaries, and to stop his cows wondering into the copse. More work!

    Yet the pace of life was chilled, it would get done, but not right away.

    As the spring came we got to meet more of our neighbours.

    They included, the wonderfully Bohemian teachers from the local Steiner school, and owners of Jake the father of our puppies Barbara and Trevor.

    I liked them they had a clapped out Sherpa van camper and lived in the most amazing 120 year old tin house by the river. Locally we called it the tin tabernacle, in reality it was a beautiful building built by the famous Brinton family of carpet fame and was the first building ever built on the field. It flooded yearly, but mostly it was dry enough for them to manage staying there throughout the winter. They were hardy folk.

    There was Lawson Bate and his wife, who came for the summer in their Mercedes, took tea on the veranda in China cups, and had a man that did for them. They were incredibly welcoming, and posh.

    There was old Harry who was a retired council clerk of the works who’s house blew down in a storm. He had rebuilt it himself when he retired. The irony wasn’t lost on us. Particularly those of us who’d dealt with him in his job. I remember my dad’s painters cursing him for being so fastidious in his job, my dad smiled when I told him the story.

    There were odd folk that had lived there years in a state of wariness lest the council should rumble them for being there. The odd thing was, it was perfectly legal to do so, and through all the effort they put in to hide their full time occupation, some of it was elaborate, they never thought to just ask!

    The area had been there a lot longer than I’d been around and the locals had established traditions and ways that were reminiscent of old England. They had rules and guidelines that were unspoken. A code of help without being asked seemed to exist.

    They even had a once yearly charity cricket match. In our field!

    This charity game had been played for years, it was between the local angling club and the Birmingham anglers association. It was organised by the owner of the local fishing tackle shop and the month of July saw our field transformed into the Bewdley equivalent of Lords. Well maybe not that grand, but the effort put in by all was amazing.

    The weekend before the game saw a marquee go up. That was the first clue, then the field was mowed by the farmer and a crease rolled by hand by any of us that were available. The marquee was stocked with beer until it was bursting. A couple of trestle tables set up for serving and a scattering of chairs appeared around the perimeter of the field. Game on!

    The first summer we were approached by a couple of locals Lawson and David, captain and vice of our team. They asked if we played. I said I‘d been known to field badly and Bob said he had poor eyesight these days. I was asked to open and Bob to umpire. I told you they were an odd lot.

    So the day came. That morning early I remember walking the dogs around the pitch. There was still a dew, the wood pigeons cooed in the trees, the mighty river Severn trickled quietly by and the ducks quacked in unison. The houses looked quaint all decked with bunting with the river glistening behind. I sat on a chair at the side of the pitch, listened to all the new sounds in my life and remember thinking to myself’ blimey, I actually live here!

    The Birmingham lot came down by coach, our lot greeted them with mock boos, then warm firm handshakes were exchanged. I realised then, this game was serious!

    Bob was introduced as the umpire. None of them twigged his vision issue, so all was cool. There were a lot of winks and nudges on our side and I was told to field mid on and give Bob some discreet help. I got the gist!

    Apparently they had employed. Some ringers in the past and we hadn’t won the match for years. There was a sort of grudge match atmosphere brewing. I knew I had to get my bit right.

    The seats around the pitch were filled and the marquee was swamped with people all spending money like it had gone out of fashion. There was a raffle, cake stalls ( lots of cakes ) and a pig roast. There was even a tombola. People came in cars, families and extended families from inside the houses, deck chairs were everywhere, sun cream, sun hats and sunglasses were adorned and everyone seemed in party spirit.I’d never seen the field so full of people.

    They won the toss and chose to bat, we stocked up with beers and trundled out to field. It was a very hot day.

    Bob stood majestic almost convincing in his whites at the bowlers end, and I crouched next to him at mid on, just within earshot!

    The game was played in great spirit. They went cheaply to some dubious decisions that I’d persuaded Bob were perfectly legit. I also helped with leg byes, wides, Fours, sixes and LB’s Bob made the appropriate arm gesture each time I made an aside, I’m sure they never twigged it, and with my fabulous opening three, we won the game to loud cheers and an equal amount of boos.

    The evening events were a open field dance and a barbecue put on by Stan the tackle shop owner. The Birmingham lot congratulated us and went home at midnight, we partied until the early hours.

    Bob umpired the next three years and we won each one.

    Great days. I suppose you would call them halcyon. Whatever they were they were the best times of our lives and writing this has made me realise how happy times were then and how simple life can be.

    .
     
    Last edited: Apr 10, 2019
  18. Sounds like an amazing place to live i'm very envious!
     
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  19. Poptop2

    Poptop2 Administrator

    Yes it was.We referred to it as heaven on earth in the summer. The winters could be a bit bleak.

    I don’t mean to make anyone envious, just relaying the story really. I need to do it now before I forget. :)
     
  20. Hurry up then before you do ;)
     
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