The Dandie Dinmont Terrier

www.davesbits.couk INTRODUCTION Poet Lauriat I’ll never become But composing this book has been such fun So don’t criticise my effort at rhyme Which over the years has taken much time. It’s a memory of me for you to browse To pass away your leisure hours! SPRING WALK

I leave the house to start on my round And take the path along the Oat Ground, Passed the field where the children are playing Being pushed on the swings gently swaying.

I take the lane down to Holy Well See the hawthorn buds beginning to swell. Primroses bloom on the banks down this lane, ‘Neath the hedges cut by machine again.

Little birds searching for somewhere to nest Keep checking to see which side is best. Left passed the ponies asleep in the sun And the chickens are scratching in their run.

The blackthorn’s in flower, winter’s not over yet I hope its rain and not snow that we get. I follow this lane which runs by the stream Note the leaves on the willow turning green.

Under the tunnel of overgrown trees Where the catkins are swaying in the breeze. An old yew tree leans where vegetables grow And roses are pruned for their summer show.

Under two huge poplars which come into view Spring flowers form a carpet of yellow and blue. The path crosses the stream and goes on beyond Where the breeze causes ripples upon a pond.

The cattle in the field are chewing the cud The coot’s on her nest and ducks in the mud. I meet people with their dogs out for a walk I pull over, nod a greeting or stop and talk.

I cross the stream, spend time to stand still And view the woods at the top of the hill. Sheep in the field where lambs can play Are a sure sign that spring is here to stay.

I pass the chestnut with its roots in the stream Its flowers like candles and leaves bright green. I join Valley Road which forks to the right Soon the church tower comes into sight.

Pretty painted cottages line the main road Followed by trees and grass neatly mowed. I pass the church with its porch and square tower And clock which strikes every quarter hour.

Jackdaws squabble over nests in the trees Blossom attracts brimstones and bumble bees. I pass through the iron gates under the yew And stop by the wall to admire the view.

The dog in the window chooses to lie But sits up to watch me as I pass by. Along the Cloud the main road draws near And round the corner the traffic I hear.

Two blue sign posts show the way to take So Cotswold Way walkers don’t make a mistake. Shin Bone Alley is only a few feet wide A pink magnolia hangs over one side.

I join the road which leads up to Knapp Green Beyond the beech pretty cottages are seen. Follow the road on and over the brow Worlds End Lane and I’m nearly home now.

March 2019

PENTATHLON Anna and I left home at eight To Bath Uni. we must not be late. Watching Pentathlon, would be a long day To see her competing, we had to stay.

To compete in the fencing she has to lunge At her opponent’s body with a tactical plunge. She dons heavy clothing which makes her perspire Before attaching herself to the floor by a wire.

If she scores a light turns red or green Fourteen opponents have to be seen. Her sword tip is checked before each bout If it proves to be faulty she would be out.

After a spectacular dive she sets a good pace Gliding through the water she’s third in the race. For the jumping she draws a small coloured horse Which rears then jumps her clear round the course.

There’s no need to go at such a fast pace “Slow down”, says the judge “it’s not a race”. The boy has three down on that same horse When he comes to jump round the same course.

Next she has to run round the track And pick up a gun when she gets back. Firing four times for points to gain As to get to the Olympics is her aim. SLOE GIN When the blackthorn winter takes its last bite The hedges are covered in a veil of white. All through the summer the branches turn green Till in the autumn the berries are seen.

After a frost it’s time to start picking The purple berries all require pricking. Half fill a bottle, cover with sugar so sweet At this stage they are really not nice to eat.

For a few weeks more you must patiently wait; Keep venting the bottle till nearer the date. When the sugar has melted you top with gin. After two more months strain through a muslin.

The longer you keep it the more it will please; After a day in the field your joints it will ease. So from tiny white flower to blushing blue berry This delicious drink will make you quite merry. VISIT TO LONDON

The day begins when the boys’ start to patter And the house is filled with loud baby chatter. It revives memories of their Dad’s early years But when one falls over the romp turns to tears.

Strapped in a pushchair we go for a walk I show them things to help them talk. They started out with new socks and shoes Which they discard like litter when they choose.

They must not sleep till I get them home Or Lindy will have cause to have a moan. They excitedly point to every passing Jeep “Daddy” they say, and fall fast asleep.

“Please hold the fort” she cries flying out the door. So I give them their lunch and get food on the floor. They flick egg in my hair though I tried to please But forty minutes later I’m nearly on my knees.

Playtime is pandemonium till you get them in the bath They race around the room and make each other laugh. At last it’s time to get them upstairs to bed “ You’re joking” says Mum “they’d rather play instead.”

My nerves are revived by a strong glass of gin And I gradually return to the state I should be in. I wouldn’t have missed coming, it’s been such good fun To spend some time with the twins of my dear son.

MY LIFE SHOWING DANDIES

In my 30s I decided to take Mandy to Bath Show And discovered to my cost how little I did know We had not been to training so I began to take fright Made worse when the judge she decided to bite.

In my 40’s came Teazle and we went to ring craft So at the shows we would not look so daft. When I lead her round the ring I felt extremely proud As she caught the judge’s eye and pleased the watching crowd.

From Bournemouth to Bath and shows in between Every summer my campervan there could be seen. At all these different shows we spent a happy day Winning rosettes and trophies on the way.

My friend and I went to many a show Now all that seems a long time ago. We would camp overnight for an early rise After careful grooming we might even win a prize.

Exemption Shows had many different breeds With excellent food to satisfy our needs. Championship Shows had many grand marquees And lots of nice shops to buy anything we pleased.

We would qualify for Crufts and leave in the snow But excitement ensured we just had to go. We never won that cup or trod the hallowed baize But came home with our prize in a happy daze.

In my 50’s I had Bramble a little mustard girl She won Best Puppy which sent me in a whirl. With four cups and rosettes I set her on the table And enjoyed the magic moment as long as I was able. More rosettes followed and a reserve CC But to make her a Champion was just not to be. Then came Crumble who was apt to play the fool By sitting up and begging, not a well-known rule!

In my 70’s I had Truffle who was no good in the ring; As I was getting older that was no bad thing. To kneel and present her was harder than you know So that was when I decided not to show.

I would limp around the ring and hope to win a prize She was easily the best when seen through biased eyes. So when I bred my Toffee he had to have the chop So I could only watch or be content to shop.

It was then I realized just how the breed had changed Their coats are much smarter and topknots more “arranged”. They crown their heads like puffballs as white as the snow Down a rabbit hole they surely must not go. Now we are in our eighties we hobbled in the door And were dismayed to see so few Dandies on the floor. INSTRUCTIONS ACCOMPANING THE TERRIBLE TRIO (One Labrador and two Dandie Dinmont Terriers) By Bramble - 1991 We’ve been washed and wormed and even de-flead, Our bags are packed with all we need. Our Mum’s going off to France to roam So we must also leave our home.

We’re looking forward to coming to stay, We’ll try very hard not to disobey. We only want walks, cuddles and food And in exchange we’ll try to be good.

Please take us too if you go out all day Because in the car we’re happy to stay. Of course we’d much rather go for a walk Or be near you so we hear you talk.

Once in our beds we’ll be quiet at night And during the day we’ll try not to fight. It may be hard not to chase the cat Try and forgive us if we do that.

We’ll learn any manners you think we lack And tell our Mum when she gets back. We’ll be glad when it’s time for us to go home And would rather she did not have to roam.

At five o’clock we’ll demand our food We’ll wait a while if you’re not in the mood. It’ll go in a flash – we’re such quick eaters – We’re trying to become world record beaters.

Steak for me and salmon for her Mix it all up and give it a stir! Sprinkle with chocolate and stilton cheese You’ll find us ever so easy to please!

No dull biscuits or horrible pill Those only make us terribly ill. If you follow instructions as given above We’ll gaze at you with eyes full of love!

Never let one of us (me) off the lead As your anxious cries I may not heed. Another’s legs get tired pretty quick (Teazle’s) So please don’t use your walking stick.

The third’s as good as good can be (Purdey) Unless the cows come near to see. SHE has the tail which knocks all for six – Cups and saucers and chocolate bics.

One is a coward and afraid of guns (Teazle) SHE it is who’ll pinch your buns! So please raise up your rubbish bin Or she’ll be tempted into sin.

I mention no names ‘cause it’s easy to tell As by now you should know us pretty well. We’ll try and be as good as we can be So you’ll have us again when Mum goes to sea.

A fortnight later………..

On returning home our misdeeds were told How we’d attacked a dog that was not so bold. One was a thief and pinched all the food; The others denied it and said they’d been good!

One was tethered on her Auntie’s lawn So she dug out the peony … all forlorn! She was put in the car to stew for a while But escaped to chase puss up the log pile.

Her Auntie climbed up and grabbed her tail But she hung on hard by tooth and nail. She pulled her down and back in the car Ensuring the door was not left ajar.

One forgot why she was put out the door So she spent a penny on the hall floor; She’d been more concerned to find a hoggy Or follow the scent of that tasty moggy.

We Dandies were sent to stay with friend Pat – Our Auntie sighed “thank God for that”! There we spent ten happy days Teaching her dogs our evil ways.

Two weary people heaved a big sigh As the time for us to go home drew nigh. We don’t think they’ll ever have us again So at home Mum will have to remain.

1993 by Bramble

We’ve an ominous feeling our Mum’s off again The suspense is awful we can’t stand the strain. Teazle would go to a kind Dandie friend – Purdey to our Auntie we think they’ll send. But what’s going to happen to Crumble and me? We’ll keep our paws crossed and wait and see. We’ve tried it in kennels and it wasn’t too bad; If we have to go there we’ll be ever so sad. TECHNOLOGY

Who decided we needed a computer? Sometimes I would dearly love to shoot her! Raymond tried first and lasted a year Frustrated, confessed ”It’s your turn, my dear”.

I’d been to classes so thought I’d be good But on my own nothing did as it should! “Help, help” I cried so someone came And for a few days got me going again.

After typing for ages my email just went I wasn’t quite ready for it to be sent. In desperation I searched high and low Then someone said “Look down below”.

Emails are a quick way to contact a friend Much easier for me than a letter to send. An email to New Zealand doesn’t have to fly And in half an hour you can receive a reply.

Where would I be without Control Z’ I think I’d give up and retire to bed. For to lose all my work I could not bear. Just press Control Z your work will appear.

Sometimes I receive what looks like a joke But if it won’t open it makes me choke. Sometimes they are clever and very funny Perhaps broadband is worth its money.

But things go wrong and frustration sets in And you can’t just discard it into the bin. One day my addresses were no longer there And my icons had vanished into thin air.

My password was needed to put things right And all my lost emails appeared into sight. We oldies are told to keep working our brain But mine‘s finding it hard to take the strain.

Zoe taught me to print and scan To crop and frame photos if I can, To copy and paste and spelling check So I go to bed a nervous wreck.

“SURFING” doesn’t mean riding a wave It helps you to shop, and money to save. Then there’s a “MOUSE” – is that a toy for a cat? Thankfully mine has no need of that.

On “EBAY” things can be bought or sold I think you must bid, but I’m not that bold. If you miss a programme on telly one day You’ll find it on “IPLAYER” - just press “play”.

In “GOOGLE” I can see the world from my chair And view the Grand Canyon without flying there. From the Great Wall of China and places beyond Via a Loch in the Highlands to my garden pond.

To plan your journeys insert the postcode A map will appear to show you the road. Zoom in and out; send the world in a spin Find your own house and street you live in.

There’s more to learn when Zoe comes next I’m not letting on I can’t yet send a TEXT! When I get to a till and need my PIN quick - Was it my phone number – oh just right CLICK.

Now the young ones spend hours on an IPad I played tennis, patience, and stamps, -so sad! I’m glad she persuaded us to get a computer She can rest assured I won’t need to shoot her! TEAM PRACTICE

“Into your places, don’t waste time,” Says Jill, “To loiter is a crime.” She blows her whistle, the game begins As Centre Forward the white ball wins. “Tackle Half – oh you’re late Whatever makes you stand and wait? Oh Inner, why don’t you rush the ball? You’ve got it, run, not slowly crawl. A twenty-five, wait, where’s the Back? At backing up you’re very slack! Pass to the Wing, oh! Mind that Half, She’s knocked it off; don’t stand and laugh But roll it quickly; dribble Wing, Oh diddle her you silly thing. Back, keep your stick upon the ground. Inner pass quickly, else go round. Long corner, now this must surely be A goal at last,” loudly says she. Needless to say of course it’s not. By this time we are far too hot. At last, however, we get a goal, Then back to our places we have to stroll Soon to start to play again, And scorn once more on us doth rain. At last we enter hot and tired; From any team we’re sure we’re fired. Then in angel’s tones remarks the boss “Don’t worry I’m not really cross; I only shout to make you run, I’m sure you find it lots of fun.

This is a poem I wrote when I was at school. The rules for hock- ey have changed a bit since then.

TOFFEE

Oh Toffee you’ve gone, my tears wet the page You were only eleven – a dangerous age. The vet came today as you looked in pain And I feared I might never see you again.

The news was bad so I kissed your soft head The vet phoned with news I had waited with dread. Life without you will not be the same Never again will I call your dear name.

I bred you as a pup and you were always near And now we are parted I cannot bear. You followed me everywhere or sat at my feet Or in the evening lay under my seat.

You’d gaze at me with eyes and mouth open wide Anticipating a morsel to drop down inside. At five you insisted on having your meal Your eyes stared at mine with penetrating appeal.

You rode on my buggy when too tired to walk People in town would stop by and talk. You’d wait outside shops in the sun and the rain Till it was time for us to go home again.

Now no one will talk to me now it’s just me Shopping will never be as it used to be. You’ll never pull the paper from the front door Nor bark when I pick it up from the floor.

You never chased cats or killed our tame pheasant And with other dogs you were always so pleasant. Rest in peace loyal friend beside your dear Mum And I’ll just remember our special years of fun. “YOU ALL RIGHT THERE?”

How many times these words do I hear. “You all right there?” Whilst struggling with my shopping too heavy to bear. “You all right there?”

When I’ve run over the lead and it’s all in a muddle. “You all right there?” When my rug slips off and falls in a puddle “You all right there?”

When I’m reaching out to pick up a poo “You all right there?” I can manage quite well if only they knew. It’s nice that they care.

When Toffee couldn’t climb out of the stream “You all right there?” I did not hear as I did scream “I need help here.”

For an hour I leave him on my buggy chair To watch what I have done to my hair. Friends pass by and stroke his hair’ Amazed at his patience – “Is he all right there?”

Someone always seems to appear to say “You all right there?” And gives me a hand to be on my way So “I’m all right here”.

When I find my coat sleeve turned inside out “You all right there?” Never “Can I help you?” - they always shout “You all right there?”

ODE TO DOG TRAINING

Friday nights come all too soon; We all assemble in the room – Raq, Perry, Pixie, Sam and Clink – Instructors too to make us think.

“All line up against the stage” Dogs of various size and age – Collies, Shepherds, Dandies too, Here to learn what we must do.

Puppy class is mostly fun In this half hour we learn to “come”. This accomplished up we go In the next class there’s more to know.

Now’s the time to learn to “hold”; Some are wary some are bold. “This will take some time to learn, Meanwhile we’ll learn to “heel” and “turn”.

“Now heel them up and call them back Never let your lead go slack. You’re training now and they must do Exactly what you want them to”.

Once more we have to pass a test Then we’re up with all the best. Leads off, and stay and out of sight, Fingers crossed with luck they might. Now we learn to “send away” And do ”re-call” a different way. To search for cloths and toys and rings – Where do they find such funny things?

The dogs obey without command, It seems a lot that we demand. One day perhaps a show well win Then with a pup again begin. BRAMBLE’S IDEA OF OBEDIENCE By Bramble

I’ve been coming to training for over five years So you might think by now I’d be bored to tears; But I love to go in and meet my chums And talk to all their chatty Mums.

We come to learn to “sit” and “stay” To “hold” and “close” and send “away”. If I do it right I get liver or cheese So I do my very best to please.

Teacher compares me to a long backed horse To a Dandie this insult could not be worse! So I show him my heel work with head held high On Mum’s face I keep my loving eye.

My little legs go as fast as they can To follow Mum’s long ones is the plan. At the end I do a nice straight sit And receive my praise and tasty bit.

I try to remember to stand when told And chase my dumbbell when she says “hold”. I’ll show those collies a thing or two As I “kill” my scent cloth – woof that’s one I blew!

Sometimes a rosette comes my way; Perhaps I did something right today. Or was it for games or fancy dress The judge I certainly tried to impress?

Next day I scent rabbits and give them chase. My Mum can call till she’s blue in the face. The rest of the week I do just as I please But when Friday comes I remember with ease!

THE DANDIE DINMONT TERRIER

The Dandie’s all that we love best, That long curved back, stout heart, low chest, Short legs, large paws to dig big holes From anything from fox to moles.

We love him dearly he loves us If left behind he makes a fuss. Courage he has for his small size, But if abused he’ll turn his eyes.

Some greet us with conversation Others show more hesitation. Most love children with devotion A few may have another notion!

‘Pepper’ grey and ‘mustard’ brown He’s the smartest dog in town. Too much coat is frowned upon, Over stripped and that’s all wrong.

The russet coat or shades of grey Two inches long should always stay. His headdress is of softest white Crowning all with rays of light.

Quality shows in those fine ears Hung with tassels of silken tears. But if required against his will He may just as well have nil!

His low set tail should merry be And on his back he’ll roll with glee. How can we fail to love this dog Who thinks we are a living god?

His nose is large his scent is keen For anything that once he’s seen. Off like lightening for his size In shape of weazle, for his prize.

“Cats”! “Cats”! don’t say that word Or I’ll be made to look absurd As at the foot of tree he waits For the ‘THING’ that he most hates.

The teeth are strong of wicked bite; Alas, today some lack this sight. When procreating this lovely breed These faults should overrule the need.

If we neglect to heed these points They’ll all end up with creaky joints And before eyes we’ll see A pigeon-toed monstrocity!

And now those eyes – I have in mind No other breed can boast so kind; Large, liquid brown and very round Where’ere you tread he’ll praise the ground.

Let’s thank this dog of Scott’s invention * For the pleasure he bestows. Let us not hope it’s his intention That TV fame to his head goes! **

* Dandie Dinmonts were first mentioned in Guy Mannering by Sir Walter Scott. **Bramble’s Father was on TV advertising Pedigree Chum. THE GARDENER By Bramble

There’s a crater in HER flowerbed In the bottom she’ll find ME; I’m digging during breakfast While there’s no one here to see.

I’ve turfed out the tulip bulbs Thrown soil all over me; I’m looking for a mole While there’s no one here to see.

Now there’s only my tail showing If she comes to look for me So I’m digging even deeper While there’s no one here to see.

I know she will be pleased When it comes to thanking me; It will save her so much trouble “Woof” she’s coming out to see. HONEY Five months with no dog was hard to bear Then Honey came into my life to share. She followed my buggy the very first walk And sat at my feet when I stopped to talk.

She did something strange her very first day – She sat on the grave where Toffee does lay; She looked straight at me as if to say “This is my home now, I’m here to stay.”

There are a few things she’s decided to spoil – My polyanthus got tossed from the soil. She chewed my carved tortoise I kept on the floor, Now she’s unable to do that any more.

She was returned to her breeder for her loud bark I agree that is something we’d rather not hark. But she’s eager to please and quick to learn And when she is good a titbit can earn.

She loves to ride upon my buggy Or climb on my lap to have a “huggy”. She’s not so keen on going to bed Preferring to roll on her back instead.

She leaps for flies, chases leaves down the stream Then relives the thrill at home in a dream. At the pet service she lay for a while But for the Blessing she sat in the aisle.

Up on the common I can let her run free And know she will always come back to me. She knows her name is Honey Bun So she always returns when I call “come”.

Wherever I go the people I meet Stop, pat her head, and say “Isn’t she sweet”. That they do this is no surprise As she looks at them with big brown eyes.

“Your dog’s so cute” a child did say, As I was walking her one day. It’s through having her to have to walk That so many people stop to talk.

In the evening she watches the tele Provided it’s a dog or a cat or an ele. She hops off my lap and searches around That cheeky imposter just has to be found.

She’s always looking for cats to chase So to keep up I go a great pace. When I sit down all she wants is a “huggy” She has become my very best buddy.

MAD HATTER’S LUNCH PARTY

My eighty-fifth Birthday was one of the best Anna drove to Lindy’s to be her lunch guest. Libby and Jo and the five cousins were there After the hot summer there was rain in the air.

The cousins arrived having flown in by air It was lovely to see them all gathered there. After John’s BBQ’d chicken we had to try Some of Lindy’s delicious banoffee pie.

Between courses a game of croquet was played While we oldies sat chatting and in our seats stayed. Then John drove me round on his tractor mower Across the lawn, I begged him to go slower.

The way to the field was up a steep bank At the sight of the next slope my heart sank. When we got to the field we had to turn round And return back over the same bumpy ground.

The cousins were filming these antics in line While Lindy prepared to dial 999! Then to the gate came the Shetland sheep Honey just had to have a wee peep.

The first through the gate she kissed on the nose Then tore round the lawn flat out on her toes. We sat on chatting about this and that Till it rained so John lent me his cowboy hat.

Then Charlie and Georgie went back to their plane And “Little” Charlie returned to his rugby game. Zoe flew to France and Amber to her horses Ben went to London to finish his courses.

In spite of the weather being dull and grey We all enjoyed a hilarious day. Thank you both the day was such fun I really can’t wait for the next one to come.

By Sally Woodhouse (Mum, Granny Woo, Mrs. Woo) 11.8.2018 TEAZLE

My dear old Teazle is no longer at home She’s gone to a place where she’s free to roam. In permanent dreams she can rest at ease Where there’s One far greater than me to please.

She joins Dinka, Purdey, Ludo and Mandy In a land that will surely welcome my Dandie. I am left with memories seen through the tears Of times we have spent during fourteen years.

From the day she arrived as a ball of fluff Till the day I decided she’d had enough. She was ever faithful with a mind of her own But now she no longer graces our home.

I remember the day as if it were now When she chased a hare across the plough; Another time when she swam the stream And carried on hunting though I did scream.

Many’s the time she would hunt in the wood But always returned to where I stood. Catching mice was the greatest fun, They had no chance to up and run.

There were trips to Crufts which started in snow, She always returned with a card to show. Her lovely head earned the judge’s praise; They were some of the happiest days.

To agility club she loved to go And amused the crowd at many a show.

CAMPING IN WALES WITH JOY AND SARAH

Mon. 1st Aug. We left our homes for a week in Wales Three of us and two waggy tails.*

* Joy, Sarah, Me and Teazle and Bramble

Tues.2ndAug. At Rhayader we woke and our noses were red As we tossed and turned to get warm in bed. This campsite too noisy and wet was to prove So we had to pack up and get on the move.

We climbed up a dam to stand and stare At the Elan Valley wild and bare.

We had our lunch where the sheep did no harm, One had her head tucked under my arm!

Down ninety-four steps and very steep The Devil’s Falls we wanted to peep. Return to the top our legs did ache; Was it worthwhile for goodness sake?

(Yes, it was)

We found a site where Sarah could play So decided to stay for more than a day.

Wed. Today we stepped right back in time 3rd Aug. And descended down a silver lead mine. We groped where the miners bent double had crawled Saw trucks they had loaded with lead to be hauled.

We motored on to the sands of Borth Where a horseless rider paced back and forth. Part of the carnival he was a clue; If he was discovered we never knew.

Thurs. 4th Aug. Climbing the hills caused the van to chug A garage soon fitted a new plug.

The Technology Centre loomed through the mist; This was one place we would rather have missed.

We travelled on in the mist and the rain Till in the evening the sun came again. The van crossed a bridge with a two ton limit; We weren’t quite sure if we should still be in it! We camped by a river with very bad habits – The week before it had drowned all the rabbits! (flooded)

We went for a walk near the railway line Then fell into bed soon after nine. Dirty earth closets were the only loos So these we decided we would not use. As facilities worsened our habits did alter We learned to wash in an inch of water! Sarah joined in with a children’s party The camp fire games became quite hearty. . Fri. 5th Aug. Swallow Falls were an awesome sight As they tumbled down for our delight. In Betws-y-Coed we treated ourselves

A narrow road with grass down the middle Four gates to open were an awful fiddle. At the end we stopped at the “Ugly House”; The water was dark in the Fairy Glen A likely haunt of maids and men. We climbed on up to Conwy’s gate But found we’d left it a bit too late.

(to walk down to Conwy Falls)

Sat. 6th Aug. My Birthday dawned bright and clear To herald the start of another year. I rolled my bag and packed my tent Was amazed to find I had a pre-sent. lots of cards too No cooking was I allowed to do The dishes too were strictly taboo. Sarah played me Happy Birthday

Then we were off Beddgelert Way. * At Beddgelert the baby was found – * a local legend The wolf survived but not the hound.

Our walk began through a tunnel so dark That even the dogs were afraid to bark. Four hours we climbed up the mountain side Our joy at the top was hard to hide We followed the trail of miners long past Till Snowdon appeared through the mist at last.

We strode the ridge in the hot sunlight With views of Snowdon away to our right. On the way down we took the wrong path In thick rhododendrons we had to laugh.

We flopped down beside a running stream To cool our feet and enjoy the scene. A four year old boy had done the same walk; I was too tired even to talk.

Portmerion beckoned that same eve; The Italian village was hard to leave.

On the far shore a campsite we spied Accross the bridge we sped at low tide. A surprise Birthday cake from Mary to me Supper followed very soon after tea.

The dogs went mad on the estuary sand ‘Till the sun went down to a foreign land.

Sun. 7th Aug. To while away the morning hours We climbed the steps of Harlech’s tow- ers; Watched battle scenes from long ago Being fought in earnest down below. At Harlech we had a swim in the sea Surfing the waves, laughing all three. The sea was blue, the water warm Was it the calm before the storm?

The ‘mountain road’ was my deviation They led to the heart of that rugged nation. When reading the signs it was hard to reckon That ‘Aberhonddu’ would lead you to Brecon. Double Ll and double dd * *Welsh language Where on earth’s that meant to be? Joy could see I’d thought of a rhyme * *in the car mirror I had to stop and write down a line.

Checking his cows was a farmer friend; A field to camp we hoped he would lend. “We want a kind farmer to put down our bed” “Will I do!? the farmer, jokingly, said. He showed us a field on our own for the night; Just a few sheep but they were all right. We were in the land of the rare red kite But only a buzzard came into sight. Having drunk the rest of Joy’s rhubarb wine I found it hard to compose my rhyme! We giggled our way up the farmer’s lane To re-fill our water tank was the aim. My ankle collapsed and I sat in the road, But I soon recovered to carry the load. When we bade him farewell he said in our ear “You’re welcome to camp here again next year”.

Mon. 8th Aug. The mountain road made our hair stand on ends; From Tregaron we tackled many hairpin bends. We chugged up a hill that was one -in -four The van couldn’t struggle up that any more. We stopped at the top to soothe our frayed nerves Which helped us get round the rest of the curves. In second gear we went down the far side – This time it was only a one-in-five. The hills were covered with sheep – some black’ One even had a bird on its back. The trees were planted right up to the summit; Tough were the men who’d climbed up and done As Gloucester’s spires loomed into sight We knew we’d be in our own beds that night. Our touring days we are all going to miss In LOV 289 and a seven year kiss (X).*

9.8.88 *The van was seven years old) GROWING OLD

We can still have good fun as we grow old Have a good laugh and do as we’re told. We may be slow at crossing the road But hope drivers know the Highway Code.

Each day we swallow copious pills Hoping they’ll cure our various ills. Nurse comes for blood as we sit in our chair “Just a small prick, won’t hurt you my dear.”

We forget the names of people we know; It’s hard to remember the older we grow. “I asked you just now but must do so again Your dear little dog what is his name?”

The house is fitted with handles and ramps And during the night we suffer from cramps. We need zimmers and sticks to help us walk And glue for our teeth before we can talk.

As our waist expands we can’t reach our toes And need elastic to hold up our clothes. We use a grabber when we cannot bend And more often need the help of a friend.

Our sight gets poor, we need plugs in our ears; Frequent sad news may bring us to tears. Many lose loved ones and live on their own So have no one to talk to or share their home.

It gets harder to stand on our wobbly legs So all we can cook is some scrambled eggs. Now we can no longer walk for a mile Whatever we do must be done with a smile.

We mount our scooter and go up the street Laugh off our troubles with those whom we meet. Pat any dogs that we pass on the way Their mums may have something funny to say.

Keep our brains active and have a good read Do a crossword or make something we need. Sit by the fire and turn on the tele We’ll be asleep ere you can say “Nelly”.

If we press our Care Line we hear a kind voice Ambulance or neighbour we have the choice. As we grow old we must not despair Just enjoy memories of yesteryear.

We search for our specs till blue in the face Only to find them in a strange place. Buttons and laces are replaced by Velcro Making it quicker to get up and go. Following the grand children’s activities is fun From flying a plane to a pentathlon run. On the day we are told we can no longer drive

Is the day life takes a dramatic nose dive.

In spite of physio. the pain fails to ease So we visit the doctor for new hips or knees. The trouble comes when we have a bad fall And manage to hit our head in the hall.

When the call of nature upsets our lifestyle We suffer bad nights for once in a while. When we can no longer climb into the bath We rise up and down on a seat for a laugh.

When we are gone who will sit in our pews? For the church our ageing is very bad news. But when the day comes for our final rest Rejoice and remember we did our best.

GROWING OLD Con’t

Old age starts when your hair turns grey And it’s hard to hear what people say. To climb the stairs requires a lift; This you find is far from swift.

You can still have fun as you grow old Have a good laugh and do as you’re told. You become slow at crossing the road And hope drivers know the Highway Code.

You get confused and start to roam So you could end up being in a home. A buggy’s a good way to get up and down So you can still go shopping in the town.

You forget the names of the people you greet When you stop to chat to them in the street. “I asked you just now but must do so again - Your dear little dog what is his name?”

Hearing aids and dentures are required at last And good eyesight becomes a thing of the past. Your bones ache and your heart starts to flutter You’re advised to keep moving and give up butter.

It’s harder to pick things up off the floor And you forget why you opened the cupboard door. You use a grabber when you cannot bend And more often need the help of a friend.

Your waist line expands, you can’t reach your toes And need elastic to hold up your clothes. In your reclining chair at the end of the day You tend to nod off and miss a good play. Your sight gets poor, you need aids in your ears; Frequent sad news may bring you to tears. Many lose loved ones and live on their own So have no one to talk to or share their home.

It gets harder to stand on your wobbly legs So all you can cook is some scrambled eggs. When you can no longer walk for a mile Whatever you do must be done with a smile.

You mount your scooter and go up the street, Compare your troubles with those you meet. Pat any dogs you may pass on the way Their Mums may have something funny to say.

Keep your brain active and have a good read Do a crossword or make something you need. Sit by the fire and turn on the tele You’ve nodded off ere you can say “Nelly”.

You search for specs till you’re blue in the face Only to find them in a strange place. Buttons and laces are replaced by Velcro Making it quicker to get up and go.

Following the young one’s activities is fun From flying a plane to a Pentathlon run. The day we are told we can no longer drive Is the day life takes a dramatic nose dive.

Everyone is helpful and offers an arm And makes quite sure you come to no harm. Your balance goes and you start to stumble Eventually you do take a bad tumble.

Hopefully you don’t break a bone But it makes you nervous round the home. In spite of physio. the pain fails to ease So you visit the doctor for new hips and knees.

When the call of nature upsets your lifestyle We suffer bad nights once in a while. When you can no longer climb into the bath You rise up and down on a seat for a laugh.

If you press your Care Line you hear a kind voice “Ambulance or neighbbour”, you have the choice. As you grow old you must not despair Just enjoy memories of yesteryear.

When we are gone who will sit in our pews? For the Church our ageing is very bad news. But when the day comes for our final rest Rejoice and remember we did our best. When you retire each night you thank God and pray You’ll wake in the morning to another new day.

HOLIDAY IN WALES – 1991

In the late afternoon we hit the road All packed up with our usual load – Joy and Sarah and three dogs too; We’re off to Wales without more ado.

At Ross-on-Wye we found our first site; It proved to be a restless night Traffic going passed shook the ground We couldn’t sleep for the awful sound.

Next day we wound our weary way At Weobly village we made a short stay. On to Church Stretton to climb the Long Mynd And lie in the sun and cooling wind.

That night we camped by the lazy Severn; We thought we’d be in our seventh heaven, But crop scarers were firing all the night And these made Teazle bark with fright.

To Powis Castle we next made our way And enjoyed it so much we stayed all day

In a narrow lane a farmer so kind Said “Yes” when asked if he would mind If we parked our van in his field “Don’t squash the grass and spoil the yield”.

“Who sleeps in the tent should beware Of getting an earwig in the ear; There’s a plague this year, it makes no sense They’ve even shorted the electric fence”.

The walls of Chirk were low and grey They’d fired their guns in an earlier day. They surrounded a courtyard square and neat Where we could sit and rest our weary feet.

Chirk had a tower with fifteen foot walls, A magistrates court and servants’ halls. The maids had a very strict rule to obey Or they lost their ration of beer that day.

The dungeon was damp where the prisoners lay Forty-two steps from the light of day. The rest of the castle was for gracious living With grand rooms designed for party giving.

We enjoyed fish and chips in the evening sun Our holiday was proving to be great fun. The site was grand and we all had a shower Retiring to bed at an early hour.

In Plas Newyd House in Llangollen town We explored the oak rooms up and down. For fifty years two ladies lived here And left the house in good repair.

Beautiful oak panels had come their way As gifts from friends who came to stay; So although they had little cash to spare They gave the house much loving care.

Froncysyllte aqueduct was narrow and high; We walked across as a barge went by. Telford built it so boats could reach town Over one hundred feet high – we daren’t look down.

At the falls shaped like a silver horse shoe Someone entered my car – only Teazle knew who. At Corwen we reported the theft of my purse I suppose we were lucky it was not worse.

The Severn rises near Llyn Clywedog Lake So we stopped for a picnic lunch to take. The dam is released when the river gets low Thereby controlling the rate of flow. The map said the abbey was worth a look So we took one more photo for the book To prove that we had passed this day Before continuing on our way.

On Friday we had one of our best meals Peach wine had us doubled up in peels. The tea kept missing the thermos jug And the ketchup sauce made a rude ‘glug’!

Sarah’s egg would not go down; She sat there with an ugly frown Till Joy struck up a fair bargain And it began to slip down again.

We stopped for coffee at Hay-on-Wye To spend no money we did try But we stayed two hours or more Buying bargains from a store.

The mountains delayed our journey home We wanted to stay where the ponies roam. Para gliders were learning to fly Being blown in leaps towards the sky.

This church has been here many a year The graves were tended with loving care. We peeped through a door that was open wide But only a balcony was left inside.

In the Forest of Dean we started to boil I thought it was due to the lack of oil; Thankfully more water did the trick Home from there was reached quite quick. JAN

It’s twenty-five years since I heard a child crying To catch her dog Sandy she was trying. As she ran up the steps she cried out “stop”; I heard, and caught her as she reached the top.

Her Mum wanted work was the next thing I knew; From the day she started our friendship grew. My house is all clean and the ironing neat And she’s always there to change the sheet.

Over coffee we find time for natters To share our news of family matters. Her head holds every vital date To miss a Birthday she would hate.

Emma and Sandy

The child was Emma who has kids of her own

Her Mum is Jan the loyalist friend I’ve known.

MY DOG

I have a little dog whose name is Bramble Rose, She has big brown eyes and a large black nose.

I have a little dog whose coat is russet brown, Her head is crowned in white as soft as thistledown.

I have a little dog whose body’s very long, Her short front legs are really very strong.

I have a little dog whose tail is gently curved, If you hear her deep bark you may be unnerved.

I have a little dog with heart-shaped ears And hanging on the end are long silken tears.

I have a little dog with the bravest heart I know, If there’s something to tackle she will have a go.

PUPPIES

I’ve not bred a litter of puppies before, The work involved filled me with awe. I felt it my duty to help this rare breed The lack of puppies shows there’s a need.

So the deed was done and Truffle was mated; For the next nine weeks I watched and waited. The Vet confirmed maybe three or four But I just hoped for one or two more.

The Vet came again the night she was due “Expect the first one sometime after two”. I phoned my whelper who came as I hoped; Without Flora I knew I could not have coped.

With whisky and tea we chatted all night Keeping the bitch always in sight. She restlessly turned and rucked up her bed; She couldn’t decide where to lay down her head.

Daylight came and she still hadn’t whelped So Flora checked if she had to be helped. She said all was well but she had to go. “You can’t” I cried as one started to show.

Although in pain herself she eased the sack. It was a breach dog – there was no going back. “The next one” I said “must be a bitch, I do hope it comes without a hitch”.

We watched and waited but the same again; Another breach dog relieved Mum of her pain. The third one came – a small pepper girl The fourth was revived with a rub and a twirl.

We thought that was all – breathed a sigh of relief When another popped out – beyond belief. We had four mustard dogs and one pepper girl. I had Flora to thank – I was in such a whirl.

We got them all feeding then left Mum to sleep But every few minutes I just had to peep. I made up a chair beside their bed And saw the pups were washed and fed. At three days old the bitch faded away; I feared the others might go the same way. But the rest thrived and their coats did shine And I started to choose which would be mine.

I slept beside them till they opened their eyes To gaze on the world with curious surprise. I weighed and wiped them and washed their bed And proudly gazed upon what I had bred.

At four weeks old they started to lap And Mum could leave them for a nap. Their little teeth were ever so sharp. One day they even uttered a bark.

Time flew by and they started to play Growing fatter and prettier by the day. Friends came each day to stand and stare To part with them now will be hard to bear.

Soon buyers came to take them away I was left with one with which to play. I called him Toffee and he’s my little boy But I remember them all with lasting joy.

2006 ROUND THE WORLD IN TWO YEARS.

No longer do you bounce home at five After a boring hospital day; Planning your travels kept you alive, T’was for them that you needed the pay.

Around the world in eighty days Was never her intended plan. If you read all this you’ll be in a daze At the exploits of our intrepid Ann.

I’m sorry Mum, but it had to be done And you must try and not worry; I’m going round the world to have some fun And I’m not coming back in a hurry.

With her luggage in her backpack And a tear drop in her eye She turned once more to look back And prepared to say “good bye”. EGYPT

A plane to Cairo was her first flight With Jo as her travelling friend; They found a hotel for their first night And prepared her first news to send.

On the plane the food was fairly good Except the beef was decidedly off So the last morsel of home baked food She nostalgically had to scoff.

Overloaded donkeys buckling at the knees Camels’ legs hobbled so they could not roam. A cold in the head made her want to sneeze And think of the comforts of her home.

Horses with sores and donkeys left to die – The sight brought a lump to her throat. She gave them her bread and tried not to cry “What on earth are you doing to that goat?”

To dine with a monkey on the roof Did not happen to her every day; But the cash that they saved was proof Of the little they had had to pay.

Fifteen kids crammed in a taxi Was a common sight on the road. Drivers blaring horns to the maxi Had no idea of the Highway Code.

They saw the Sphinx from a camel’s hump And on Tutenkamun’s face they gazed. On taxis round town they did not get a bump At which they were truly amazed.

The train to Aswan took a long time And loo rolls were sadly lacking; They had their own in two packets of nine They’d included when doing their packing.

The trip to Aswan on a hot dirty train Caused Pharoah to take his toll. Anna became ill with a terrible pain So had to use up her first loo roll.

The tea was red and made from a tree “Much nicer Mum than your Earl Grey.” Their room only cost them 75p Which was bliss at the end of the day.

Temples and tombs as old as Stonehenge Was something they had of their fill. They were both taken ill with Pharoah’s Revenge And Anna remained very ill.

She ran up the slopes of Sinai Mount And snorkled in the Red Sea. In an Arab tent she was out for the count And was woken up to a cup of tea.

As she left she was sick in the plane – “My parting gift to that dirty land; I’ll not hurry to go there again To noise, rats, hastle and sand.” GOA

They arrived in Bombay in stifling heat Found a hotel with rather big bills. Just one night for a much needed rest They slept for hours on a meal of pills.

From Bombay they flew and down to Goa They needed a few days of rest. Here the pace was definitely slower So they recovered at The Tourist Nest.

Goa was a tropical paradise Of coloured birds and monkeys that teased; Where buffalos toiled in fields of rice But they could do just as they pleased.

The last night in Goa she stuffed her tummy With prawns and lobsters – “yummy, yummy.” For two and a half days that food had to last – They’d no idea they would soon have to fast. INDIA

They caught the coach from Goa to Bombay Tracking a tiger in the jungle on the way. They arrived in Bombay covered in grime Catching the train in the nick of time.

A second class carriage to Udaipur Was all they were able to procure. Squashed in with kids on her lap There was only the rack for Jo’s nap.

The passage was crammed with doors wide People clinging to the roof and the side. They travelled through dust and the heat; The next train was no better – still no seat.

They ran out of food and water too But dared not do as the natives do. They tried some water with a special pill But this only made them more ill.

After forty-two hours they reached Udaipur; In one pound notes it had cost only four. They went for a cruise and a moonlit dinner; And ate so much that they weren’t much thinner. SPRING WALK