seriessix Posted November 13, 2006 Author Share Posted November 13, 2006 Here it is, thanks to SF for putting up with my nonsense..... http://www.lulu.com/content/469776 Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
seriessix Posted November 14, 2006 Author Share Posted November 14, 2006 Hi... Could you tell me more about L.S.Dunone's collected cuttings? Have they been compiled into a book? And is the compiler based in Sheffield....? I am currently doing some research on writing that deals with the city of Sheffield.... hence, the questions..... Hi rinz, This is all fiction (well most of it). Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
sauerkraut Posted November 14, 2006 Share Posted November 14, 2006 I might have just enough imagination to conjure up one such letter (at nothing like seriessix standard of course!) , but to manage a whole book-full and more is quite mind-bogglingly impressive! Believe it or not I do remember - for real - a bagpipes-practiser in the botanical gardens. And in true British fashion he was studiously ignored by all. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
seriessix Posted November 16, 2006 Author Share Posted November 16, 2006 http://sheffieldwriters.ath.cx/SFStoryArchive/1163703822.doc Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
seriessix Posted November 17, 2006 Author Share Posted November 17, 2006 Dear Sir, I was walking past Heeley baths the other day during one of my aimless meanders through our fine city. As I cast my eyes over its crumbling Victorian exterior I was instantly reminded of my old friend Charles Moore. Charlie was just one of my many friends that took a keen interest in nature. His knowledge of this subject was exhaustive; I would have to say that his best loved animal was the Blue Whale. To be honest he seemed to know more about these animals than they did themselves. What has this all got to do with Heeley baths I hear you say. Well, as we all know during the spring months the Blue Whale likes to migrate between the south and north poles. So during this same time Charlie would emulate this whale’s behavior at the baths. He’d swim under water on his back up and down the length of the pool. At about the half way point he’d ascend to the surface and blow a great jet of water out through his nose – he’d then take in a large mouthful of water and sink back down and continue on his way. It was indeed a majestic sight, probably more so than seeing the real thing from a sanitized viewing platform on a boat full of imbecilic tourists who are only interested in filling their photo albums with inane amateurish shots of gormless friends and relatives standing in front of whatever they pass by on their holidays. Thanks, Ken Unsworth. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
seriessix Posted November 20, 2006 Author Share Posted November 20, 2006 Unexpected Café Wife Encounter Sir, Some folk just don’t know they were born. Driving around in their flashy cars, with white teeth playing their radios at full blast at all times of the day. Look at the price of plimsolls! I could buy a house back in Dundee with the money people spend on their kids. It’s all flavored crisps, fizzy pop and mindless comics for kids these days. When I was lad growing up in Scotland my mother used to cook a vat of porridge every Sunday, when it was cooked she’d pour it into the top drawer of the dresser and leave it to cool off. Every morning we’d cut out a chunk for our breakfast and a chunk for our lunch. I couldn’t believe it when I finally moved down to the city of Steel, it seemed like everyone was a millionaire. As a bonus at work we’d be given luncheon vouchers which I saved up for six months as I planned to ask my land lady’s daughter out for a posh dinner in the town. The relentless voices in my head still goaded me back then. I finally plucked up the courage and to my surprise she accepted. Anyway, the evening seemed to be going well until I tried to pay with my wad of vouchers, they flatly refused them. I had to leave my companion at the restaurant and run all the way home and back to get my rent money. Needless to say that was the last time we went out together, that night the sky was as black as a Stormy Petrel’s egg. It rained for two weeks non stop and no one can see the tears when you’re crying in the rain. After that incident I couldn’t afford the rent so I had to live in the outside toilet for a week but at least I had my vouchers. I ate at a different café everyday and it was at one of these fine establishments, over an egg butty, that I met the woman who would later become my first wife. So as you can see lightning can strike in more than one area on any given occasion and like life can manifest itself in many amorphous shapes and colours. Richard Mothers. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
seriessix Posted November 21, 2006 Author Share Posted November 21, 2006 It’s like reading the review of a mental asylum garden fete, written by a bemused, whimsical, courteous Englishman whose tolerance of eccentricity knows no bounds. I'd buy you pint if you could post the above quote or whatever you see fit on the review's list here. http://www.lulu.com/content/469776 Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
buck Posted November 25, 2006 Share Posted November 25, 2006 Well done, seriessix, I enjoyed it immensely Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
seriessix Posted November 26, 2006 Author Share Posted November 26, 2006 Terrance-Anne Dear Sir, Recently I was eating a loaf of bread that I had brought from the local supermarket and let me tell you it tasted terrible. I can’t believe the rubbish they pass off for food these days! Anyway, as I gazed at the loaf in its plastic packaging I was transported back to my youth, when I lived on the edge of the city near a place called Attercliffe. Back then there was a windmill near our house that was run by farmer Ralph Dickens. He was a lovely kind fellow who once made a snooker table for the village out of an old dining table, six socks, a worn out truck tyre and an old coat that he was issued with whilst in the army. This shy man also employed the village hermaphrodite, Terrance Anderson (who was known as Terry-Ann to her mother and just plain Terry to his father). Well one day, just before a terrible storm, some of the local children tied Terry to one of the sails of the windmill, children can be so cruel. She spun round and round for hours before farmer Ralph Dickens lassoed her to safety. The funny thing was though that nine months later she gave birth to a baby, the excitement on the windmill made Terrance impregnate herself. Mother and baby moved into an out house on farmer Ralph’s farm, to my knowledge they still live happily there today. Mrs Goddey Coats. http://i120.photobucket.com/albums/o172/seriessix/windmill3.jpg Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
shoeshine Posted November 26, 2006 Share Posted November 26, 2006 http://i120.photobucket.com/albums/o172/seriessix/windmill3.jpg I can picture Terrance-Anne on there now, thanks to the link! Can I open my eyes now, please? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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