They do say an Englishman’s home is his castle. Seems this chap has raised his drawbridge and issued a warning.
#2019picoftheweek challenge: Home Sweet Home
For details of #2019picoftheweek challenge see MariaAntonia
They do say an Englishman’s home is his castle. Seems this chap has raised his drawbridge and issued a warning.
#2019picoftheweek challenge: Home Sweet Home
For details of #2019picoftheweek challenge see MariaAntonia
Looks like he means it too!
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Yea, no nonesense man. Or woman.
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Haha, I love this! Home sweet home, indeed. 🙂
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I thought I’d go for the comic with this one. 🙂
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It gave me a laugh! Well done.
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Thank you, Maria.
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No mucking about his domain!
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Yet no vicious dogs scrabbing at the gate with intent to inflct the potential intruder with actionable damage. 🙂
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And so not necessary…😉
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Oh, we often get chased along perimeter fences by rotwieler and Danes and things. Noisy whatsits. I bark back at them. As long as the fence is strong! 🙂
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Hahaha! So very glad my dog is NOT a barker.
So annoying
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The worst was when waiting for a bus in an out-of-the village, and patrolling the garden fence behind us were four verbally fierce litte dogs. I’m no good on breeds, but some kind of terrier. So small I could have tucked all four into my backpack. And they would not stop barking. And the bus was late. Much grinding of teeth that day!
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We call those “wiff-waffs” or kickables… nasty little beasties
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Kickables, yea. Except when there’ve a fence to protect them.
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True story
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Absolutely. And shared by others, I woudn’t doubt.
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Oh for sure!!
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Yep
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Faced with that sign, I believe I would, in fact, keep out! It makes me wonder what laws there might be about hanging an *actual* skull, with real bones, on one’s gate. Or in one’s home, for that matter. Not that I’m considering redecorating along those lines, mind you!
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Um, I’m not sure. Of course, that sign was resin. I did have a human thigh bone, picked up on Dunwich beach where the local churchyard had crumbled and all the graves fallen (coastal erosion). I think it’s owner had met with a violent death. It had an barely healed, quite deep cut across it. I ouched just to look at it. I don’t know what happened to it. Yea. I wonder …
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Finding an old thigh bone on a beach — especially one with an obvious injury — sounds so exciting and so disturbing at the same time that now I want to write a story with that as the prompt. I assume you handed it into the proper authorities, but who would be “proper” in this case? I imagine they would have to check to see if it was really from an old grave, or perhaps evidence in a more recent missing persons / foul play case.
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The correct place is the local museum.
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Great photo! I love that you paired it with “Home Sweet Home”…the sweet and the sinister 🙂
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I was thinking more of comedic. It tends to be my thing these days. 🙂
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Yes, it’s very comedic 🙂 I could imagine that photo at the beginning – or end – of some TV show or other 🙂
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I think the homeowner had a sense of humour, too. As I said in one of the previous comments on this, there was no ferocious dog, as an adamant paranoid person might have.
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And, you do comedic well 🙂
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You mean I’ve a twisted sense of humour? I thank you. 🙂
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Ha ha ha 🙂
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🙂
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