Scribblings

Buy a House in Brittany - Definitely! But... Don’t do a Dave! Buying Abroad? Got a minute? Read this... It could save you thousands ! A woeful tale about a client who thought he had it all sewn up because he was sticking with his bank when he exchanged funds for the purchase of his house in Brittany. As we have so often said… Watch out, there’s a banker about! Dave Simmonds and his wife, Megan (It's a true story but the names have been changed to cover any possible embarrassment - (alright ‘Dave’? ) were both very, very excited after finding their ideal home in the heart of the Cotes d’Armor. It was everything they could ever wish for…   Early retirement with a very reasonably priced 5 Bedroomed Farmhouse on five acres plus three gites. Enough space for the horse that Megan could never have dreamt of owning back in Guildford.   A good potential income from holiday lettings... All for just 360,000€ plus Notaire’s fees! I know, barmy prices! Anyway…du

Things to look forward to when you’re 70! (apart from a delayed pension). I’ve O’D’d on Glucosamine Sulphate, so much I’m mentally scarred. It’s escalated now I’m 70… I’ve even mainlined on my Senior Railcard… I bow down to the Norse God Voltarol… He eases all my pains… and there’s Deep Heat, Germaloids, even Anusol for the other stresses and strains. The wondrous Winter Fuel Allowance! That’s what lights our lamp these dark days -  ahh, those twilight hours But after the logs, it’s not Leccy or Gas we crave? No! We buy booze with ours… the Whisky, Gin, Vodka, Wine; a drop of Brandy too.   It all helps to numb the cold and memories of happier times gone by - brighten up this bloody growing old. Supplements, sterols, statins, aspirin, beta blockers… All the heart meds - life really is a battle. In the 60s it was Sex and Drugs and Rock ’n’ Roll… Now there’s less sex and a lot more rattle! Viagra fails to make it now - “no more”, after the last time - s

Don’s the One… He’s Trump! Back then - as a lad he picked up his millions from his dad. He’s Trump. Yeh - Dad made millions… passed one on … he picked it up and started the run -   Need to make a zillion? Just watch this - be rude about people take the piss Buy a bit of land - build a casino - use slave labour - treat em like dirt - we know ,   in Atlantic City, It’s a dump…   Moves On. Stamps on the meek makes ‘em squirm - He’s Trump. Do something naughty - Oi - we saw yer - I’ll cover it up - get a good lawyer. Loves the limelight can’t get enough… Porn Star? Can’t tell the truth makes up stuff One rule for me - one for you … Fancy a slinky bird will she screw? Fancy a hump? Say you didn’t do it - who’s to know.  He’d refuse a pardon to an innocent on death row. I’m Trump. I’m a bit special and Life’s a doddle … Havin’ it off with a Slovenian model (or two)… Yeh…fancy a broad grab her pussy … I’m up for Pr

'Cuzz' By Chris Slade This new friendship. This journey on which we were just setting out. How will we work it now you've...well...gone? It was going so well. That's the way I saw it anyhow It had only been a year - we two - back in each other's circle... Same planet - different orbit. Though I'll never know now what your thoughts might have been.. This 44 year gap in our 'acquaintance', for that's all you'd ever say it was, ...it closed at dad's (your Uncle Bud's), funeral - as he leapt 'on-flame' to the ether. He didn't half  want to go..."Why don't they just let me slip away?" And then It was you I wanted to know amongst those finger buffet scoffers. Those ribboned aces never knew that Bud just kick-started their Lancasters and 'Spits' at Leconfield and Liberia. Bud's morphine muted passing proved positive,and thankfully at last -  (he might remember now) - he helped kick-star

The 2003 painting where I handled the brush...but I didn't 'do' the painting... I think it was my Pa. I started painting (again) at the end of 2017; but really got cracking in Jan 2018! But I'm not sure it's actually me doing it... Because it could be my dad! OK, so, I went to art school back in the 1960s... yes, so, that might come as no surprise - but I studied Industrial Design (3 dimensional items) also known as product design. I didn't actually achieve the diploma... ahh, the shame! ...And couldn't find work in 3 dimensional design. So, I took a job as a sales rep selling artists' materials to schools and colleges. Not quite a cop out! I did well during the two years I was working for Reeves. The next job was a step up as a Publicity Assistant - moving toward what my college training had prepared me for - designing & organising exhibitions for a medical equipment manufacturer... I was promoted to Assistant Publicity Manager:- planning ad

You know how when you're laid up with a broken ankle you just have to keep weight off your foot for 4 weeks at least! I thought so, well, recently I was between paintings... foot up, without the necessary urge to do a painting, so I started scrolling through photo's to see what might inspire me by way of a subject. I saw a few that diverted my attention and I came across one of Tunnel House, in Saltford near Bath, a house that we had lived in when Micki and I got married back in 1970. This got me thinking about 'near misses' . Places I've been or people I've met - or almost met... And this got me thinking about brushes with celebrity that there may have been throughout my life. So this house was our first 'home'; the top floor of Tunnel House, a manor just off the A4 between Bath & Bristol... I'm not even sure I realised at the time of moving in, that the house had been owned by Isambard Kingdom Brunel!  We slept in Brunel's house!...