Afar ~ Lady Lee #writephoto

I see hope from afar
I can smell the roses
Cycling at the weekend
No fret no bother, too
Where I can pray and mend

I see hope from afar
And looping with the wind
Imagine to be free
Not swatting in the hole
Where I’ll be full of glee

Continue reading at Lady Lee Manila

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Ani’s Advent 2019: A Christmas warning from Ruby and Willow

Dear Santa,

You know the trouble with Christmas? It is all the stuff we can smell… wonderful tasty smells… and there are so many ‘not alloweds’. And while my two-legs is pretty good at making sure there are plenty of nice things I am allowed to eat, there are so many other things I can smell…

But, if you read my friend Ruby’s story, it is easy to see why our two-legses try to keep us safe and say ‘no’, even when we do the whole puppy-eye thing.

Ruby’s story says it all… and there is a link to some of the things we are definitely not allowed.

The two-legs says I have to mention making sure the fridge is properly shut too…

And the cupboards…

Much love,

Ani xxx


Ruby’s Christmas Warning

Now in my defence, although I am a retired guide dog and highly trained I am at heart a dog. A Labrador at that. We  Labradors love our food and we will honestly eat any and everything. We are always hungry!

Yesterday I  am afraid to say  I was very naughty. I had just come back from my walk with the male two legs (who  I  adore above all else). I had had my wash down and been towel dried, it is very muddy over in the fields. So my two legs took me in and gave me two treats and told me to stay in my bed. Then he went out to clean up outside…..  I  could not resist the fabulous smell coming from the kitchen. I took my chance and snook out and there were hundreds of mince pies on the worktop! Yum!

The male two legs had been baking all morning! The smell was magical, he had been soaking the fruit and brandy all of the previous night! I don’t know what happened the next thing I  know  I was up on two legs and I had a magical mince pie in my mouth… I did not realize the two legs was keeping an eye on me through the window! He was shouting and banging on the window I wondered what the problem was so  I ate the mince pie as quickly as I  could before anyone took it from me!

My beloved male two legs was very angry with me! He shouted at me and told me I was a very bad girl…. he never does that, never shouts at me. Just then the female two legs (the one known as Willow) arrived home and she was shocked and not at all pleased with me either.

Well very quickly I heard the two, two legs discussing what had happened and then Willow two legs rang the Vet! Doh!  the vet! The next thing I  know we are dashing out to the car, and it was dark and damp and we had to go through what they call the rush hour.  The male two legs seemed very agitated and worried would not get there in time but we did.

Went we got in to see the vet he was lovely and he asked the two legs lots of questions. He told them that the situation was very serious and, worst-case scenario it could be lethal. Then told them what he was going to do.  He said he would give me an injection to make me sick!  Ummmn ! I don’t like being sick.  But he did and oh! poor me I was so sick for about half an hour. My two, two legs stayed with me and so did another two legs dressed in blue. The vet kept looking in to see how I was doing and saying “Sorry darling” … I  think he was.

After they were sure that I had finished being sick, the vet gave me another injection to stop me feeling too rough and settle my tummy. Then he told my two, two legs that I could go home but they had to give me special medicine every half hour, to replace electrolights…   whatever they are! OH!  worst of all I  was not allowed my dinner, I was allowed half a  boiled chicken breast but I  was hungry all night.

Well, the male two legs found it very hard to get me to take the liquid from the syringe the female was better but she found it stressful, I could tell, and I was stressed too! The female two legs stayed up until nearly half-past one to make sure I  was okay.

This morning I was feeling better and the male two legs gave me a tablet from the vet then after half an hour  I got my breakfast, not chicken, my proper breakfast! Later  I had my normal walk! I was feeling much better. I showed the two legs how to give me the electrolights thingy, all they needed to do was put the dose in a saucer then hold it up for me. No mess, no fuss no stress!

Tomorrow I have to go back to the vets for blood tests. My two, two legs are worried because the vet told them that I could have kidney or liver damage or even die, but he seemed to think I should be okay.  … who knew these mince pies were so dangerous! The two two legs did and as careful as they had tried to be   I had snook through their defences! They have vowed to be even more careful in future…. no extras for me I  guess!

So I cannot stress enough dear animal friends, and all bloggers with cats or dogs please be extra vigilant about Christmas food.

Read here what is poisonous for us pets!


About Willow Willers

I am the mum of three boys all now grown and flown to live their own lives. Luckily they do keep in touch and visit often. I now have two beautiful grandsons.

When I started this blog I had not long come home from the hospital after an accident in which I broke my back. I was in the hospital for a month and had three operations.

It has taken me a long time to recover, I am still recovering but every day my body is getting stronger. It has taken a huge toll on me mentally I had to retire early on health grounds, I had to come to terms with finding out people I thought were friends were not. I had to make a new life for myself. Things I could do easily have become difficult. 

Writing poetry and prose has helped me a great deal, in fact, I think it has saved my life. 

Find and follow Willow Willers

willowdot21 Blog     Facebook     Twitter


Antlers are for Reindeer!

If you would like to help save Ani from a fate (she says) worse than death, send your Letters to Santa, festive memories, short stories, flash fiction or poems to the Small Dog. She will post them every day through December until Christmas.

She would especially like to hear from her four-legged or feathered friends (she has a special place very close to her heart for turkeys)… but she says that two-legs are better than none, so she will accept submissions from humans too. To get in touch, please use the form on the contact page or email Ani at findme@scvincent.com

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Afar ~ Leanne Lieu #writephoto

Terri and Jay were touring the countryside on a chilly wintry day. With scarves over their noses and holding hands, they could not risk being motionless.

“I want you to know that if I die of hypothermia, I do not grant you permission to remarry,” Terri said.

Jay smiled. He knew Terri is capable of dark humor from time to time.

Continue reading at Read and Write Here

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Hawk #midnighthaiku

*

The hawk of morning soars

Grace above a sleeping world

Silent wings unseen

*

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End of the beginning ~ Jane Dougherty #writephoto

On a tangent from the WIP for Sue Vincent’s #writephoto challenge. I know, the stars aren’t out yet, I’m anticipating.

Screen Shot 2019-11-28 at 22.32.43.png

The hills were white with a dusting of snow and the air was crisp and clear. Overhead, the sky was full of stars.

“You’d never see a sight like that in London,” Jon said.

Holly didn’t need to look up; she had the shape of the stars printed on the back of her eyes.

“Why d’you think I came back?”

Continue reading at Jane Dougherty Writes

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Living Lore: Wroth Silver Ceremony ~ Gary Stocker

Continuing Gary Stocker’s Sunday series of posts on the folklore, ancient sites and legends of Britain. If you have similar stories to share from the area in which you live,  please read the footnote and send them in.

The steward reading out what is owed

Obviously November 11th is quite rightly famous as Remembrance Day. However it is also St Martin’s Day. In Warwickshire there is the annual Wroth Silver Ceremony just before sunrise on Knightlow Hill in Stretton-on-Dunsmore on this date (11th November, or the preceding Saturday if it falls on a Sunday). It is arguably the oldest continuing ceremony of its kind in Great Britain, thought to date back to Saxon or even ancient British times. There were other similar ceremonies in Britain, but they have discontinued. The earliest known reference to it was in 1170 and it was mentioned as, “ongoing”. The Feast Day of St Martin of Tours, known as Old Hallowe’en since the calendar change of 1752, was when autumn wheat seeding was completed and the slaughter of cattle for “Martinmas beef” was done. It is associated with end of year celebrations. One legend holds that St Martin was martyred with a mill wheel, so it became bad luck to turn a wheel of any kind on that day, which is a bit unfortunate, because most of us arrived by car. It became a time when tenancies were renewed, rents paid and labourers engaged. Money owed had to be paid by St Martin’s Day. Which is why the ceremony is done before sunrise. In past times a particular day did not become that, until sunrise. So until sunrise, under the old system, it was still St Martin’s Eve. It only became St Martin’s Day after sunrise. The legal requirement to hold it stopped in 1800. After fifteen years though, it was decided to start doing it again as a ceremony, rather than a legal requirement.

The Mayor of Rugby reading out a speech

A couple of weeks beforehand, the Rugby Advertiser announces that the ceremony is going to take place. Although attending the ceremony is free, the breakfast afterwards requires buying tickets from the hostelry hosting it. This used to be the Dun Cow pub, which dated back to the eighteenth century, but in recent years it has been held at various nearby venues, as the Dun Cow is now derelict following a fire. The last few years it has been the Queen’s Head in nearby Bretford. A lot of us met there at about 6 am for refreshments, including the traditional rum and hot milk. Then it was off to the ceremony. We all parked nearby and went to the field where Wroth Silver stone is. It is by the A45 London Road. It is on a public footpath, according to the Ordnance Survey map, so it can be looked at pretty much anytime. His Grace the Duke of Buccleuch has stewardship of the ceremony. Formerly it was the Crown, but Charles I transferred it to one of the Duke’s ancestors. This was contested in the reign of Charles II, but the court ruled in favour of the Duke’s ancestor.

Inside of Wroth Silver stone after cleaning, but before money has been deposited.

The stone has been cleaned out and covered by a blue plastic sheet. When the ceremony was due to start, the sheet was removed, the Duke’s steward faced east and read out various parish names which make up Knightlow Hundred  (a hundred was a local government district in past times) and how much that parish owed. A representative from that parish then threw in the correct amount into the Wroth Stone, saying, “Wroth Silver” as they did it. In former centuries the representative had to go three times around the mound before doing it, but that stopped about two centuries ago.

The traditional clay pipe

Failure to pay meant either a fine of either twenty shillings for every penny not paid, or forfeiting a white bull, with red nose and ears of the same colour, bulls of that description being descendants of the indigenous cattle of ancient Britain. Another Warwickshire legend is that of the Dun Cow (there are a few pubs named after her), which may have been based on one of these cattle. They were quite ferocious compared to modern day domestic cattle. My parish owed a halfpenny, so I chucked in more than enough! I did not notice any parish not paying; if there was nobody else from that parish, someone else threw in. The Wroth Stone itself is the remains of an old wayside cross, destroyed a few centuries ago. The grade two listed base is still there and that is where the money is deposited. The stone itself is on top of a tumulus, which is probably the grave of an important person. Most likely from Saxon times, although some say that either an ancient British chieftain or a Roman general. In the eighteenth century there were four fir trees at each corner, said to represent four knights who were slain nearby.

A mention of the ceremony on the back of the Daily Mail, 12th November 1918

Once dawn had broken, it was back to the Queen’s Head for breakfast and speeches. We all got our breakfasts and traditional hot milk and rum to toast the speeches. The Mayor of Rugby, the Duke’s steward and various other notables made the speeches. The official poet also read a poem out about the ceremony and someone else gave a talk on it. There was also a booklet for sale, called, “Wroth Silver Today” by William Waddilove and David Eadon. Each of us was given a hand made, clay half churchwarden pipe. It was traditional to smoke those afterwards. You can still do it, but you have to go outside.

So what is the purpose of the ceremony? There are various ideas. Some say that it might be feudal. For instance Ward money, in lieu of military service. People have tried to find the answer by looking at the etymology of the word. The trouble is that spelling was rather casual in years gone past. Although the consensus is that the spelling was Anglo Saxon. A prevailing idea is that the area was largely covered by the Forest of Arden (now largely gone, but existing and being replanted in places). Apart from the occasional surviving Roman road, like the nearby Fosse Way, moving livestock around was difficult. So the Wroth Silver was paid as a sort of protection and right of way tax.

Anyone can attend. You do not have to be a resident of the hundred. It is just by coincidence that I am. If you are a first time attender, you are a colt if you are male and a filly if you are female. There was a good number of people attending this year. The lowest in living memory was six, during World War II, which was understandable, but the fact that they did it proves that you cannot keep a good ceremony down!

Sources: “Tales of Old Warwickshire” by Betty Smith, pages 101 – 103
“Folklore in Shakespeare Land” by J Harvey Bloom, page 161
http://www.wrothsilver.org.uk/

About the author

Gary Stocker graduated from Coventry Polytechnic in 1991 with a degree in combined engineering. He worked in civil engineering for nearly twenty years. For the last six years he has worked in materials science and currently works as a test engineer. His hobbies and interests include voluntary work, conservation work and blacksmithing. He is also interested in history, mythology and folklore and he says, “most things”.


How did your granny predict the weather? What did your great uncle Albert tell you about the little green men he saw in the woods that night? What strange creature stalks the woods in your area?

So many of these old stories are slipping away for want of being recorded. legendary creatures, odd bits of folklore, folk remedies and charms, and all the old stories that brought our landscape to life…

Tell me a story, share memories of the old ways that are being forgotten, share the folklore of your home. I am not looking for fiction with this feature, but for genuine bits of folklore, old wives tales, folk magic and local legends. Why not share what you know and preserve it for the future?

Email me at findme@scvincent.com and put ‘Living Lore’ in the subject line. All I need is your article, bio and links, along with any of your own images you would like me to include and I’ll do the rest.

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Ani’s Advent Calendar 2019! ~ Stocking Filler?

Dear Santa,

That’s it… we’re on our way! Counting down to turkey-time! It is time to start the calendar and, this year, I have loads of my friends, two-legs and four,  coming over to share their Christmas stories!

She’s already up to stuff, though. I’ve seen her, hiding things… I just hope that there are no new antlers this year…

Have a word with her, Santa. Maybe, if you come to her this year, you could bob some antlers on her while she sleeps… see how she likes it, eh? Knowing her, though, she’d just laugh… and then put them on me anyway. My two-legs has a weird sense of humour.

She’s not all bad, though. In fact, sometimes, she’s pretty good and does some good stuff. Like the Tennis Ball Tree the two of you made for me with the chicken flavoured star on top.

She says it was a chicken starfish really, but I like fish too so I don’t mind. It looked like a star to me!

Mind you, I had to rescue it from that pesky robin. he comes and sits on our tree every year, you know. He must be getting old now… I think his joints must be worse than mine. ’cause he never moves much… so I don’t really mind sharing.

And, speaking of sharing… I thought to myself, what do you get for Christmas, Santa? Apart from all those mince pies and the sherry they leave out for you? Or the milk and cookies?

Does Grandma Claus knit you new socks? Or, seeing as how you get everyone to hang up their stockings, do you wear stockings instead?

My two-legs says that’s not the kind of question I should be asking, ’cause some people might get the wrong idea. But what I’m trying to find out is, does anyone leave a present under the tree for you to find?

Well, this year, I thought I would… so I’ll show you a picture now so you know what to look out for.  And if you know anyone else who might like it, I think it will fit in their stockings or socks.

She says it is a bit of Christmassy ‘light reading’, so Rudolph shouldn’t mind carrying a few. Tell him I’ll see if I can come up with something better than a carrot this year.

You know, I’ve heard two-legses can go orange if they eat too many carrots… wonder if that’s why Rudolph’s nose glows so bright?

Much love,

Ani xxx

PASS THE TURKEY!

The Small Dog’s Christmas

Sue Vincent

It is almost Christmas and things are not looking good for the Small Dog. There are too many Santas, too few tennis balls and not enough snow. To make matters worse, her two-legs says there is no room for a Christmas Tree in their new home and there isn’t even a chimney!

In a bid to save Christmas, the Small Dog decides to write to Santa. Every day. Join Ani as she tells Santa about her adventures, explores what Christmas means to her and asks him some very awkward questions…

A seasonal collection of verse, humour and anecdotes from the inimitable Small Dog.

Available on Amazon in paperback  UK and US

and for Kindle UK and US

 

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Jessie ~ Jen Goldie #writephoto

They’d travelled for miles, still nothing.

“It’s big country. She could be anywhere at this point.”

“But why would she leave. It just doesn’t make sense.”

Two months prior, they’d purchased her from a reliable farmer. The information they got from the farmer, told them she’d been a stray, but was a fine Collie, very obedient and very loving. He really didn’t want to sell her, but he was losing the farm and she needed a new home.

Continue reading at Jen Goldie

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Time traveller

nick north days

As the first lightening of the sky separates silhouettes from the blackness, the temperature plummets and cold floods my body. I can feel its bite and the reactive crisping of muscle and sinew as I huddle into my coat and my hands seek the warmth of pockets. Breath clouds the air in front of me, parting to let me pass as I walk and streaming over my shoulders. The smell of wet earth and leaf-litter has an illusory warmth of its own and an early bird lifts its voice in song as I walk round to the village shop in the pre-dawn darkness.

December… and there are fairy lights in the trees, sparkling with a promise of things to come. Gradually the village will fill with them and the night will become a wonderland, for now, the bare branches of one winter tree are decked with pinpricks of blue. Even so, the sight of these few lights in the darkness flood me with a sense of excitement as potent as when I was a child. Although I walk in the silence before dawn, it is the teatime dark of a winter afternoon, with the shop windows of the city reflecting light and colour onto pavements wet with snow-melt. Tall people cast their shadows as they rush by. The noise of traffic and voices and a chestnut seller touting his wares, the pungent smell of charcoal and toasted shells warm the air as I hold tighter to the hand that is both safety and guidance. I am five and we are going to see Santa’s grotto at Lewis’s in town…

Continue reading at The Silent Eye

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Afar ~ Anita Dawes #writephoto

I stand on pagan feet, verdant beneath

beside winter stripped leaves

my eyes roam the blue snow laced hills

where legends speak

of heavy snow that hides a secret

Continue reading at Anita Dawes and Jaye Marie

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