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Brigits Flame has asked for entries relating to the word 'KNOTHOLE'... one is allowed three entries each of which must not be more than 150 words and unrelated to each other.

What fun. Wild Drabbles of 150... so here is Number Three.


'A Knothole' is a made-up description.
Without a reasoned reason it was made.
From two other nouns of no relation.
This demands an explanation!

A knot is a woven interlacing
Of some flexible material
To form a semi-permanent link;
It can be made a single, or in serial.
A hole is quite another matter
It is a gap, an aperture, a space.

Example: My mouth is such a place
Tthrough which I constantly must mutter.
My knickers have three such apertures
My sink just one. My brain has many gaps.
That name desired so difficult to capture
becomes a most face-flushing lapse.

So why the 'knot' in knothole?
Hole is easy yes, a hole in wood,
Made by a dislodged branch.
From where comes knot? Could
It at first been spelled without the K?
Meaning a space where branch was NOT!
Brigits Flame has asked for entries relating to the word 'KNOTHOLE'... one is allowed three entries each of which must not be more than 150 words. and unrelated to each other.

What fun. Wild Drabbles of 150... so here is Number Two of my three.


Forever Knotted.

"Do you Arthur take this woman to be your lawful wedded wife?" The Vicar demanded solemnly.

"Aye! I do, indeed!"

The Vicar turned to the frothy white figure standing below him. He smiled down at her eager shining face.

"Do you, Mary Jane, take this man to be your lawful wedded husband?"

Mary Jane looked deeply into the eyes of the Vicar then turned to the tall man in a kilt standing beside her.

"I do, oh I do!" She declared clearly.

When they were signing the register in the Vestry, Mary Jane suddenly realised she was now the wife of A. Knothole. Sshe sighed. So many silly jokes to live with.

Brigits Flame has asked for entries relating to the word 'KNOTHOLE'... one is allowed three entries each of which must not be more than 150 words. and unrelated to each other.

What fun. Wild Drabbles of 150... so here is No one of my three.

Problem at school

"Please, Miss." A small voice piped from the back of the class.

The teacher was busy listening to another six-year-old read, heard a voice but didn't act.

"PLEASE, Miss... oh, Please!"

Teacher looked up to see who was calling. Another child wishing to be taken to the toilet by the class prefect? Oh no, it was little Becca at the back there.

"What is it, Becca?"

"Miss... I'm stuck."

"You're stuck. Stuck on what? Don't you understand something?"

"No, miss, I'm stuck. Here." Her little anguished face began to leak tears.

Miss Jones marched down to where Becca was crouched, wondering what problem she had to deal with. Becca was usually so quiet and good.

She saw why Becca was bent... her tiny fingers had become clutched fast in the rough hole beneath the inkwell.

Miss Jones acted swiftly -- cloakroom soap and water.were fetched and Becca smiled again.
I think you are wonderful, marvellous and terrific!
 and as


   Have a Happy Happy Happy Happy Day!!!
           with love from old Blue.


Listening to the news today....   I cannot believe how much GUFF is waffled.

Firstly, MPs being asked for an opinion.  It appears they do not have an Opinion.  they can't find one under all that fur and moss that is growing and becoming a fine fuzz in their Ministerial heads.  Is this a common disease that strikes all MPs... new or ancient?  (Except for one brilliant sharp-eared MP called Dennis Skinner, 'The Beast of Bolsover'...)  A solid informed Opinion and/or  reply/advice cannot be found by asking MPs.

To bomb or not to bomb... whose toes will we tread on?  One year we are patting Assad on the head and using his oil.. two years later we hate his guts and he is a MONSTER... so we supply arms, not to him for a change, but to his 'revolting' opponents - and now the serious question is... do we bomb ISL IN Syria, or will it upset the diplomatic arrangements we have about asking Assad for permission to fly into his territory?   We are now back to creeping to tap on his door again.  Please nice Mr Assad.....   ?

People have not been loudly reminded in  the UK that 'threats were offered since 2014 that the Brits were warned to stay away from Tunisia by the terrorists themselves' who were being trained in four or five locations not that far away from the beach at Soussa.   Did the FCO  not advise UK holidaymakers that all Tunisan resorts were not wise places to go and get sunburnt and drunk?  They knew about it?  ... and if I did, .... well - surely they could have spoken up a bit more loudly???   Ho hum.

A phrase Cameron the PuddingFace is always using... 'Existential Threat.'  One asked Google because one understood that it meant.....

  1. Existentialism is a philosophy that emphasizes individual existence, freedom and choice. It is the view that humans define their own meaning in life, and try to make rational decisions despite existing in an irrational universe.

    Because if it is existential (verb) then it exists as existentialism... (noun/adverb)


The adjective existential is often defined as, “of, or relating to, existence.” However, as you point out, that doesn’t really explain the meaning of existential in most contexts.

Let’s try another approach, looking at how the word is most often used. Using a language corpus, I found that existential most often occurs in one of these phrases:

  1. existential threat

  2. existential questions

  3. existential crisis

The first phrase, existential threat, is used in texts or discussions about politics, usually politics in the Middle East. In this context, existential is being used literally. An existential threat is a threat to a people’s existence or survival.

The second phrase, existential questions, references Existentialism, a 20th century philosophy concerned with questions about how and whether life has meaning, and why we exist. (For more information, look up Existentialism or the philosopher, Jean-Paul Sartre.)

The third phrase, existential crisis, is also a reference to Existentialism, but it is often used in a humorous or sarcastic way, to suggest that the person or people being described spend too much thinking about themselves and the meaning of their lives.

In sum, existential can be a reference to survival, or to the meaning of our lives, or used to poke fun at others who might take themselves a bit too seriously.

This was an interesting question, and I hope this answer helps a bit."

Reply.... ERM.  I would have thought a more clear word would be 'EXISTING threat'.  (just because existential sounds Bigger and Wiser?)

(Excuse me, but I think the heat is getting to my head... )


By accident I had my fingers on the wrong keys... and typed in 'Exostema' threat... hit Enter and... dear old Google came up with that even!!

so..... amazing! Ask Google ANYTHING... it will please with something!


Then I heard reported that to get the perfect 'selfie' picture that great publicity-seeking-bird called Kim Kardashian... of that family... said how to get the right lighting, the right background, the right makeup.... and then she takes about THREE HUNDRED SELFIES  to find the best one.   What in HELL does she do all day apart from makeup, and smirk at herself in a mirror?   God this is so WORLD CREATIVE!


England is suffering from a heatwave. WOW.  ONE day, maybe two.  Yes. well... and hailstones.  Yes, well.

I'm just sitting here in temps of 100 (37.7 deg) waiting to drive to Vannes to have my eyes checked for the virulence of my cataracts and hopefully be told I can have 'em done shortly.  Andrew is taking me in my air-conditioned little motor, cos he wants to browse in the DIY store while I'm in the Chair!  I can't drive back cos they'll have put atropine in my eyes and that makes them look huge, and luminous and rather lovely!  I can't be bothered to do 300 selfies just to show you folks.  It's been this hot for well over a week now... we are in the full glory of CANICULE!!!  The Dog Days.....

Have a nice cool afternoon.... productive, full of happiness and beauty and iced tea/Coffees.

Its a sloooooow day... and my brain isn't into pomes today.

LOVE YOU ALL.....  Looloo.



  Darling girl, I know how you must love your words...

      I'm sending you these as a very special pressie.

                              With my love

10168032_803598343052570_8062825888712540537_n - Copie

Happy Happy day, and spend it wisely and VERY VERY WELL!

                  xxxxxxxxx Looloo xxxxxxxxx


A Happy Birthday Wish for Moonlustie....


1510803_802210513175214_6866073117723565415_n - Copie

Have a wonderful day, with love and laughter
    and lots of goodies and pics of Bean!
               Hugs from Looloo.


Answer for question 4422.

Are you more likely to avoid conflict (of whatever kind) or engage it head-on? Is there an instance where you avoided a problem that you now wish you could go back and take a different course of action -- what was the situation and why do you wish you'd handled it differently?
You can go so far, and no further. After that - watch it!

Pomes and stuff... 23.6.2015

Morning's greeting.

Stirring air flings stones of emptiness
into the pond of day.
Splashes stain my eyes
making it so clear
If I walk upon the grass
I'll leave no imprint: None alas.
Thoughts float,
Gathered in the sunlight,
scattered like beach pebbles
deserted by the sea.

Waiting for the Guide to show us the new Mairie.

They wait, a cowlike patience powders
their plumply middle-aged faces.
They are content, as fed babies are,
Simply merely, just - to be.


The new Mairie.

Costings had been made, adjusted, cut.
Balanced against the optimistic future sales
of forty-one small dwellings to be put up
in the field where old Roger used to walk
behind his bony tired old horse,
raking up the scented sundried hay.

Inside a block of cement-ice-cream
decorated with a wafer-face of cutout steel
The new Mairie stands.
A slab, alien in this small old place
that has wrinkles on its 18th century face.

She stands, apart, barefaced and bold.
A stranger in a non-admitting land.

Perhaps in years the flowers and the bushes
will cover her raw nakedness;
A tree might smooth a knife sharp corner,
A shrub might shade a sliding door.

We will become used to those doors
that upon your approach,
open with a regretting sigh.


Days come, familiar as an old hand
reaching blindly for the comfort of a pair of spectacles,
Or in the frame of light around the curtain on the door.
The small chirp of disturbance in the stillness --
A medication must be taken, one yellow pill
be swallowed with a full glass of H20.

The great decision must be made.
To drink of tap-water?
The filtered blandness from the jug?
Or effortful reaching for the ice-cold
fancy blue bottle in the fridge.

This is how my day begins.
A child's day now
Begins and begins; the watch hands linger
Playing love, holding one another
in a futile attempt to conquer inevitablility;
to part and hope to meet again
sometime in a future dark, unknown.
Hours simper, saunter down the lanes
of minutes, until the light departs.
Routine pretends to have a say
It is important; it must be used
to fill the day.
But there is only so much one can do.
That done, slowly and with intensive care
laying pencils, paper, balancing accounts.

The day has not yet reached a time
when a second mug of coffee
is a normal break.

So slow, so slow the day's long flow,
is unknown, unfelt,
trembling anxious that it should not go
too fast and thereby steal another day
from the so few left
to cross off upon an empty calender.

Tes yeux gris-bleu,
disent leurs adieux
Ma coeur est triste.
S-il te plait, desiste!

(your grey-blue eyes
are saying farewell.
My heart is sad,
Oh please, -- desist!


Le ciel cache sa bleu
derriere une voile discret
Qui dois-tu penser?

(The sky hides her blueness
behind a secret veil.
What are you thinking?


Le matin est calme
Les feuilles sont endormis
sur leurs branches
mais ma tete est mal.

(the morning is calm,
The leaves are sleeping
on their branches,
but my head hurts.


Sur ma langue il reste
une morceaux du chocolat
Il est une memoire maintenant.

(On my tongue stays
a morsel of chocolate.
It is now a memory





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