Jane Jago's Blog, page 21

Ponies and Progeny: Arguments

Ponies and Progeny or the graceless art of equine management as envisaged by the pen of Jane Jago and inspired by the genius of Norman Thelwell (1923-2004)

Today we consid er the art of winning an argument with your mount…

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Maying

May Day and the maypole is erected on the green
And all the local school kids will dance and eat ice-cream
They wind the ribbons clockwise, then dance them widdershins
Plaiting and unplaiting as the dancers skip and spin

The grownups take their pictures or maybe video
And drink warm ale outside the pub until its time to go
And maybe there’s an ‘obby ‘oss or maybe a green man
Or maybe morris dancers shake for pennies in their can

But no one goes a-Maying in the wild woods anymore
And no one brings...

Piglock Homes and the Affair of the Dartymuir Dog – 2

Join Piglock Homes and his sidekick Doctor Bearson as they investigate the strange affair of the Dartymuir Dog…

‘Mister Homes. Please come quickly. There’s murder afoot on Dartymuir. Signed Inspector E. E. Yore.’

Bearson had to admit the words meant little to him, but he was satisfied by the change in his best little chum from amoral turpitude to intellectual rigour. 

Homes showed his teeth in a feral grin.

“You’d be more interested if you read the Thunderer instead of your dreadful ...

Eggcorns

I was biting my time as dust fell
And my bloody dire rear it was hell
I had swallowed some dollop 
Which I hope picked a wallop
But waiting was making me smell
Alongside me was my escape goat
A man who grasps time by the stoat
He has wobbly knees
And old-timer’s disease
And his hearbuds are down by his throat
As I wrote this verse I could have sworn 
That you wouldn’t find any eggcorns
But it’s quite up to you
If you see one or two
Said the maiden alone and full on

Jane Jago

Granny’s A-Z – Z is for Zero Interest in May Day Traditions

Why all the fuss about the first day of May? 

It’s the 122nd day of 366, and is steeped in the history of labour relations. But of course, that doesn’t interest you lot a bit, now does it?

Oh no, you airheads want the ‘Obby ‘Oss, the Morris Dancers, children whose mothers have confiscated their phones clomping gracelessly around the Maypole, some prim child all tricked out as The May Queen, and strange songs with incomprehensible lyrics, and so on. You really do worry me…

Before you abu...

Three Minute Read – Red

It was ten times ten years since the day when the oasis ran red with blood, and an exquisite woman sat in a red silk tent out on the white shining sands. She was a realist, for all her transcendent beauty, and she knew, as surely as she knew her own name, that this was the last sunset she would ever see.

Fayruzi, named for her remarkable turquoise eyes, stared unseeingly out at the cruel whiteness of the sands and carefully considered her options. She was surrounded by the various means by wh...

Drabblings – Siblings

Telling an entire story in just one hundred words…

Brother and sister.
Supposed to be there for each other. Family. Closer than friends.
But Adam and I missed the memo.
We fought even as toddlers. Sibling rivalry on steroids.
He trashed my farm set so I trashed his comic collection. He mocked me at school so I spread rumours about him.
Until dad died in a crash. Somehow we grew up overnight. Mum needed us both and that brought us together.
Before, we’d turned our backs on each other. But dad’s deat...

Ponies and Progeny: Treats

Ponies and Progeny or the graceless art of equine management as envisaged by the pen of Jane Jago and inspired by the genius of Norman Thelwell (1923-2004)

Today we consid er the use of treats…

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Mum’s Sewing Machine

Whatever the fashion I’d tell my mum
And she’d get out her trusty machine
She’d run something up at the speed of a gun
Make a dress that she never had seen
But mum’s been gone a long old time
Her empty chair is cold
Her sewing machine no longer shines
And her little girl is old

©️jj 2024

Piglock Homes and the Affair of the Dartymuir Dog – 1

Join Piglock Homes and his sidekick Doctor Bearson as they investigate the strange affair of the Dartymuir Dog…

It was a dull day in August and the heat was of such an oppressive character that even the normally sanguine Doctor Bearson was a little inclined to snap. Homes, of course, was fretted beyond measure – both by the lack of intellectual stimulation and by the disappearance of the kazoo with which he was wont to while away the hours of boredom.

In an effort to cheer his porcine chum...