Some of Derek's stories

i look up feld.

theer, in difrentp lace i can see 11sees all over the feld -oh no.

sumtim later i sit on seet and p[or a cofee- oh so nice at last—oh wow—a kingfisher- it blue an – oh,so fast. ,y chees sarny taste nice an many birds to see. farmer next dor go by in tractor and wave i wave bak- oh n o- i foget chees sarny – it fall from hand in brook!!!!

i fed up now, so go in next feld an start mow- rabbits many- runfor yor lives!
an deer to up on the hill- som blue sky and warm compar to erly to day. soon i lost in ketchup song, human nature, will smith, firehouse, marc antony, lara fabian and basia. i now finish feld an open gate. the lane empty. it alway empty unless car come- only cow this time.
A cow????
oh no – wat he doin out?

i start mow and charg up lane- oh no- it the nutcase!!!!!
he alway try get out- this time he must jump hurdal 5 foot hihg.
waht can i do? i have no pellets for makeh im cum in.
i lok at basket.

oh no – not my pork pie!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

you no, sumtim a porkpie with cow sliva all over, not lokk to taste. i let him hav the rest, shut the gate, and trot off down feld to my favrite tree again.
i stop, get off,an look in basket- oh no—wheer my thermos???

Fed up for secon time, i go back to house, an theer, in big pile of cow doodoo is thermos – – my heart fall.

i was siting that evning, in warm room after dinnner, feeling reely hapy, thinkin about kingfisher, an how much that moment seem to make all other no prob. an then i thinkin . . . . . . . . .. …………………

wat ever hapen to my hula hoops???????

MY FIRST NIGHT IN THE WOOD

wen i first move to htis farm it weer 3 day befor i had to go an look at hte wood – it weer neerly dark but i had to go
so, i put tractro in barn an short walk of down hte lane.
hte wood was creepy -lot of scratchin an nocks, funy taping an wining. a breeze ratel sum branch an hten i see hte mist.
it weer movin thru hte wood lik a silent, death, as i tred on broken wood, an it crack like a gunshot folow by a blood curdling shriek wich sent lektrik discharge all round my body, as my hair went verticle,an my legs feel lke rubber band
“YOUR DINNER REEDY!!” it wail from a far -an evrythin in wood stomp an race out in all directoin . . .deer, fox, bager, owl . stoat, weesil . . . . . . . . . excep for me

i walk bak slow to house wiht my hair like a punk star, an my eyes more open htan 10 cups of coffeee

“see anything nice?” she asked . . . . . an hten looked up

“oh my -you see a ghost?”

“yes” i said . . . . . . “MY OWN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OH DISASTER UPON DISASTER!!!

“Oh, what a disaster!” say my mom.
why???
yes, mom come for diner. she a bit wobly now at 103 but me an my brother thinkin she actual 107 – it no mater reely, as she woble just as much now as wehn she weer 70. what wiht my shakin too, the 2 of us maskin for a bit of a dodgy photo when my brother do hte takin.
!Stand still!!” hew scream much, and me an mom giggel an snigger and brother sayin “Oh, for goodness sake!”, an we larfin an larfin even more.
Then it happen.

Myb brother right foot slide down the slope to the stream- “OHHHH!!!” we both gasp out, but too late . . . . . . . . . . . . brother lose balance an splutter out like wailin goose . . . “Ooh erkkkk!!!” . . . . . . . .. an then come the inordinut “PLOP!!!”

“Oh nooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” i depressinly sigh.

Yes folks, my brand new camra my freend Jason buy for me, now residin 30mtrs down streem, havin crash over 2 waterfall an crunch on big rock. the drop is bout 4 mtrs, so no chance of reechin it – – it is drowned . . . . . . an dead!!!!!!!

theer weer this short momentof slience, an then mom sayin . . . . . “Oh . . . . i hopin we both no end up like that!!”

we arfin and larfin all hte way back to the house, and then, havin made a cup of tea, we sat together on sofa.
after 3 sips, we both look at each ohter,an sayin together,”Who gonna tell Jason?”

(The seconds seem like hours an then we both lookin at hte door)

“BROTHER!!!!!!!!!!????”

(A NOTHER PREGNENT PAUSE)

“Oh . . . . what a disaster” says mom.

“Yes mom . . . . . . .. he alway weeer!!!!!”

AS A CROW FLIES.

It was the start of another usual day.
Derek and I (Jason) sat on the old tree trunk behind his house, supping tea, and enjoying the early morning sounds of creatures scurrying back to their homes, and early adventurers rustling leaves and snouting around.
“Awark!!!”
Both Derek and I looked up.
“AWARK!!!!!!!
“I say, Derek,” said I, somewhat perplexed, “You got a new alarm clock?”
“AWARK – AWARK!!!”
Before Derek’s bulging eyes had any chance of redirecting their gaze in my direction, the whole tree, a quacking oak, as it happens, swayed and shooked and shivered, like Derek’s Mum on a good day, and out of it flew as a straggly mess of half chewed and half eaten feathers . . . . . . . . .JUNIOR!!!!!!!
“AWARK!!! – AWARK!!!! – AWARK!!!” screamed Dad, which I can only presume means in crow language, “Come on Son – you can do it!!!”

Well, Son, as it happens, couldn’t do it. Not at all.
Little junior flapped like a pro, with the enthusiasm of a first time Olympian, with little legs that seemed to be trying to do something similar to walking on water.
You had to give him credit. Well, I had to, as Derek was in heaps of laughter, struggling himself to stay on the log and not fall off the back.

And then it happened. Just like the Red Arrows.
Completely unexpected, and from BEHIND, swooping at speed, low and just skimming the ridge tiles on the roof, arching upwards before us, with wings outspread and undercarriage extended . . . . . . . . . . . was DAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!

He alighted like an oversized plum pudding, atop the quacking . er . . quacking oak.

“Eweek!”, “Eweek!”, “Eweek!”, said Junior, in the best traditions of Crow geneology, and promptly started to plummet.

The air was filled with “AWARK!!!” from Mum and “AWARK!!!” from Dad, and a slightly countrified brogue from Derek, who was half swallowing a generous slurp of tea at the time – “SCRAMBLE!!!!!!!”

Well, I’ve never seen anything like it. Derek was up quicker than I have ever seen him move, with his walking stick held aloft in the horizontal position, the top button of his waistcoat pinging off like a guided missle, and his tea splashing everywhere, screaming at the top of his voice, “COME ON SON – YOU CAN DO IT!!!”

Dad took to the air like a Lancaster Bomber on steroids, squarking an “AWARK!” as he ascended, and did a perfect cuban 8 to join Mum, who just happened to be flying back from Tescos, well, at least she had food in her mouth, which no doubt was to act as encouragement for keeping junior in the safe confines of the said quacking oak.

Alas, all was not to be.
Junior, by now, was fast running out of flappability, and to that end, airspace as well.
If only he’d had a parachute!!!!!

Well, he didn’t, and in the best traditions of F-104 Widowmakers – plenty of guts and courage, but just not enough wing – he went straight in, all guns blazing “Ewerk, ewerk, ewerk, ewerk, ewerk!!!!!”
Yep – — -straight into the cow shed!!!!!!!

“Moo-ooh?” “Mooer?”
“Ewerk!”
“AWARK!!!”
“Awark!!!”
“Moo-uh?”
“Ewerk!?”
“MOOOOOOO!!!!!”

Well, that last one was enough to frighten the living daylights out of junior, and he reappeared through the broken roof, all pistons pumping, in gleaming plummage that shone like an overwaxed Spitfire.

“AWARK!!!” SHOUTED Dad, as proudly has he could.
Mum just flew alongside with a nodding look and a guiding wing.

“Look at that Jason,” said Derek, prodding me in the side with his crook, “Just like the Battle of Britian Memorial Flight”.

I noticed the tremendous pride across his gritted lips, as he once more clenched his fist around his stick, and shook it into the air with a great sense of achievement.
“Fancy a cuppa?” he enquired, “I seeme to have lost mine” he countered, as he gazed into the empty mug.
“AWARK!!!!!” I retorted, and we both walked back up to the house, laughing.

Derek certainly knows how to start his days, is all I can say :):):)

I REMEMBER ONCE COMING HOME
from a late night “do” in terrible weather of lashing rain and fierce lightning, and as I came around the bend that leads up to the farm, some 300 metres away, there was Derek, huddled in the bus stop supping a cup of tea from his thermos, and an enormous cheese sandwich in his other hand, happy as can be. “You want a lift home?” I enquired from the half open car window, as I pulled up beside him.
“You got lightning in your living room, have you?” came the reply.
Derek did have his way of rather defeating you most disarmingly.
I’VE JUST COME FROM DEREK’S PLACE, and Mum made me a generous helping of Lemon Merangue Pie. I say helping, it was in fact a whole pie!
I mention it, because Derek’s cooking was so wonderful for me, and now I am beginning to understand why.
Why?
Well, because after about one minute of eating a spoonful, there was this tremendous kickback that almost blows your socks off, as this severe lemony heat seems to waft up from the back of your throat and completely overwhelm your mouth in a most delicious tangy lemon.
I asked Mum, knowing that Derek never gave away his secrets lightly, how she made her pies so delicious.
“Ah,” she said, “that be the chilli!!!!!”
Jason – Derek’s friend.

ANOTHER STORY FROM YESTERYEAR involves the only trip I ever knew Derek make acroos the channel to France.
We took the early ferry, as Derek said the one thing he was looking forward to, was the breakfast.
Well, the trip started well enough, but as soon as we hit mid channel, the choppy seas started to rock the boat with a slow drunken lilt that had Derek staggering along the deck in hot pursuit of the local wildlife.
Seagulls of course, can be an amazing experience, but Derek was after something with a little more finesse and curcaceousness.
Yes, you guessed it – females!!!
Well, it were quite amuzing as these delectable delicacies walfed along the poop deck, with Derek doing more backwards than forwards, while I myself was doing the best he could to keep up with someone over 10 years my senior. He used the crook of his cane to grab anything vertical, as the girls ahead spent most of their time grabbing each other, and I was happy to grab anything that fitted into my encircling arms.
Most disconcertingly to Derek, they suddenly disappeared into a cabin, and Derek swung round in my direction, his right arm outstretched, firmly grasping his cane, which had found itself wrapped around some netting.
“Ahoy there shipmates!” he bellowed, with this enormous grin on his face . . . . . and then the boat leant to port at an angle far too acute for my liking, and Derek’s too, as the net became unhinged from it’s location, and Derek started to lean over the side.
“Avast ye lubbers!” he further bellowed, “Let’s get below!”, which to me at that moment seemed to be more wishful thinking than a practical idea.
As the ferry pitched back, I grabbed him as quickly as he grabbed me, and we opened the closest door we could . . . . . straight into the restaurant!!!
The politeness of the interior was completely interrupted, as two disheveled shpmates blustered into the tabled area, with wind and spray buffeting through the open doorway, just at the moment that the ferry took a severe lean to starboard, and dumped both of us onto the bench seating at the end of two rows of people.
The rock back to port, seemed to take ages, as both of us watched as everyones breakfasts began to slide along the tabletops in our direction.
When the boat settled, I had five breakfasts in front of me, and Derek had six.
“My goodness Derek,” I said, “You’re never going to eat all of that!?”
Well, I think everyone was aghast as I was, as Derek responded with a “Well, I’m going to have a jolly good try!”, with half an egg still hanging out his mouth.
Do you know, none of us saw him put that egg in his mouth. He was so quick in the face of adversity.
Of course, we bought all the other people new breakfasts, after all, what else could we do, with Derek half finishing most of theirs!!!

MUM GAVE ME HIS WALKING STICK,
which I hung on the back of my front door. Derek contracted polio at a young age so always used a stick to walk, and gesture, and occasionally to prod me!!!
Yes, I shall miss him much.

• 24 Sep, 2010
• 9 likes

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