CCC026: Jiggity Jig

Wally went alone
His brothers preferring to stay at home
Laziness bred deep in the bone
Greed increasing, never satisfied
Waistlines lost, hope that gratified
Meanwhile with a jiggity jig and a jiggity jog
Wally wheeled his barrow to town

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Crimson’s Creative Challenge #026

Every Wednesday I’ll post FOUR photos (if you want to get a head start you’ll find them marked in that week’s Sunday Picture Post and Tuesday Treats). Lots of choice!

And here there are:

You respond with something CREATIVE. Perhaps an  answering photo, or micro-fiction, or a poem, or just a caption

As before, there are only two criteria:

!!!!! Your creative offering is indeed yours !!!!!

!!!!! Your writing is kept to 150 words or less !!!!!

If you post a link in the comments section of this post I’ll be able to find it.

Here’s wishing you inspirational explosions. And FUN

Posted in Crimson's Creative Challenge, Photos | Tagged , , | 22 Comments

Tuesday Treats: More From Chet Valley

This early in the year we’re pleased to find colour of any kind. Enjoy these colour splashes from our walk on 4th March 2025

4th March 2025

Snowdrops line the country lanes

4th March 2025

4th March 2025

4th March 2025

Daffodils, but obviously garden escapees

4th March 2025

Leaves can turn such unlikely colours

4th March 2025

4th March 2025

Honeysuckle is always early with its soft-green leaves

4th March 2025

And even the deer provide welcome colour

4th March 2025

The blackthorn (which I’m assuming this is) is very late blooming this year. Held at bay by the frigid east winds?

4th March 2025

4th March 2025

Hidden amongst the grasses by the roadside, the blue flowers of speedwell and the purple of red-deadnettle, two little gems

4th March 2025

That’s all for now folks. Hope you enjoyed

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Sunday Picture Post: Along the Chet Valley

Hooray, 4th March 2025 promises to be a dry sunny day. So it’s on with the shoes and off we go early, cos we’re heading to the very rural Chet Valley, and that’s two buses just to arrive at the start. Please do join us

4th March 2025

The roads around here go around and around, scarcely straight for more than a few hundred yards

4th March 2025

Last chance to see into the distance. Soon we’ll be into the valley and although the enclosing land isn’t high, still it gives an enclosed feeling

4th March 2025

Catkins hang their golden tails all along the road, we many we begin to tire of them

4th March 2025

The Wellbeck, tributary of the Chet

4th March 2025

Our destination is Loddon where we’ll catch the bus back to Norwich, then another etc etc

4th March 2025

Rural. Farmyards greet us around every corner

4th March 2025

This route abounds with charming thatched houses and intriguing old barns

4th March 2025

4th March 2025

Bergh Apton churchyard. Churches usually provide a seat, which for hikers is most welcome

4th March 2025

Rural often means abandoned for nature and weather to decompose. But rural also means materials that will decompose, unlike modern items left willynilly to trip the unwary

4th March 2025

A walk of many animals!

4th March 2025

4th March 2025

I’ve taken many photos of this ‘barn’, it has such character. But today I’m sad to see the gate’s boarded up and the farm buildings deserted.

4th March 2025

Sisland church. We sit on a seat in the churchyard, snowdrops nodding at our feet, and eat our packed lunch. Perfect.

Hope you enjoyed. Next week’s walk is as yet undecided. I’m hoping for primroses and other spring flowers. Please join us.

And don’t forget to check out Tuesday Treats for more photos from this walk

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The Emperor

Image supplied by Falco on Pixabay

He was the worst emperor they’d ever known
A buffoon, a dictator, a clown
He said he had the people’s mandate
Then proceeded to do what he wanted to do
His subjects howled and told him to go
But he was blinded by imagined popularity
The cause of despair, not of hilarity
As emperors go, they wished that he would
For four months on his throne
He was proving no good


71 words written for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Mandate

 

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CCC025: Alien-Nation

The swamp, it is a lonely place
Inhabited only by an alien race
Not human, that’s for sure
Lay eggs that look like squishy burrs
Then stick them on a human tree
Like lice in hair, like pussy-fleas
And so they grow
Where no one goes
None observe the transformation
That turns these squishy eggs into an alien-nation
Hatch, they do
Like tadpoles made of some blue glue
Best not to go there
To any swamp that might be near
Best not to see
This alien flesh adhering to our native trees

Posted in Crimson's Creative Challenge, Photos, Poems (Some Silly) | Tagged , , , | 21 Comments

Crimson’s Creative Challenge #025

Every Wednesday I’ll post FOUR photos (if you want to get a head start you’ll find them marked in that week’s Sunday Picture Post and Tuesday Treats). Lots of choice!

And here there are:

You respond with something CREATIVE. Perhaps an  answering photo, or micro-fiction, or a poem, or just a caption

As before, there are only two criteria:

!!!!! Your creative offering is indeed yours !!!!!

!!!!! Your writing is kept to 150 words or less !!!!!

If you post a link in the comments section of this post I’ll be able to find it.

Here’s wishing you inspirational explosions. And FUN

Posted in Crimson's Creative Challenge, Photos | Tagged , , | 12 Comments

Tuesday Treats: Last of This February’s Details

Some of the details from our walk on 23rd February 2025. Plenty here for fungi and lichen lovers. Enjoy

23rd February 2025

When I pass by a wall and see this delightful moss, the camera has to come out

23rd February 2025

23rd February 2025

Beach photography. Love to see what the tide has brought in. Loads of cuttlefish-bones. Shame I’ve no budgie or parrot to make good use of them

23rd February 2025

23rd February 2025

Our dune system is a great place to look for lichen and moss

23rd February 2025

23rd February 2025

In the park the alder trees hang out their catkins and cones while other tree think about opening buds

23rd February 2025

23rd February 2025

Lichens. I wish I could name them but… no, I can’t

23rd February 2025

23rd February 2025

And what kind of fungus is this? I’ve hunted for a name but cannot find.

23rd February 2025

Alas, that’s all for now folks. Next week we’re walking the rural lanes of Norfolk. Please join us

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Seed Fall Chapter 9

Chapter Nine of my current wip. As before, all and any comments very much appreciated

“Oh-oh.” Kookka gave a nod down towards the fly-port, to where the three Techs and a certain catering ops overseer had gathered. They seemed to be scanning the sky. “A warm reception? And not from affection.”

“Affection?” Jess jumped at the word. That wasn’t good. Now he had to cover it. “You’ll find more affection in a stone.” Pendoling Techs with their Pendoling rules, he muttered deeply to himself and cast a look back at the two others of his Obs team, the four unevenly distributed around the flier’s pentangular cabin. “You ready for this?”

He brought the flier into port, resting it precisely on its assigned stand. He’d not have the Techs fault him on his control of the craft. At the flick of a switch the door shushed open. He stepped out.

“Zem Jess…”

Jess looked at the Tech’s badge: Tech 3333099.

The Tech approached, a leather-bound log firmly held in hand. “Again, you take a flier without permission.”

“Again, I logged it. See, there in your hand,” he retorted, anger rising at the Tech’s attitude. Insufferable, every one of them. His stay on Colabri with the Fire-keepers had supposedly assuaged his anger. Huh, maybe he had better control of his anger, but the Techs’ attitude remained to goad and inflame.

“Quote: To check on the perimeter holos,” Tech 3333099 said.

Jess tilted his head. And?

By now his three ‘rule-breaking’ Obs had joined him, forming a tight arc around him. He ignored Canipse’s muttered comment of his needing support. What did a catering overseer know of anything. Not even of food, judging by the stodgy tasteless gunge served up that morning.

“While we might tolerate you, as the Zem, taking a flier to facilitate your duties as the Obs team overseer, it is not part of your duties to check on the perimeter holos,” said Tech 3333099.

All that with no hint of inflection. Were the Techs actual living, breathing beings, or just droids? This wasn’t the first time Jess had questioned it.

“I do agree, and admit it isn’t part of my duties to check on the perimeter holos.” The Fire-keepers had given him the means to hold and to hide his anger; he now could enjoy prodding his verbal fingers at this Tech. “It is yours, the Techs, severally or corporately. And it is something in which you have failed. As penalty for your negligence of duty, a juvenile of our observed breed-pool was made to die in a most horrible way and our breed-pool left to wonder why.”

“And did you find the holos defective?” Canipse asked. Like something that scuttles from beneath a rock when disturbed, the catering overseer had sidled closer to the Techs and the Obs team whilst they were talking.

“Four,” Jess said, before returning his attention to the Tech. “Four defective. That you three Techs should have checked and fixed before we arrived.” Was that only yesterday? “Moreover, had your preevos seen to it, it wouldn’t have been needed. The security of this basecamp depends on those holos. The well-being of the breed-pool requires it too. I want them repaired. Now. Without delay.”

“And who are you to tell—”

Jess rounded on the intrusive Canipse. “I am the Zem responsible for Clutch Six. That means not only this Obs base, but all personnel in it. That includes you. What are you responsible for? Keeping us fed – with food which is edible. Reports will be written and in due course logged with an STC. Anything else you wish to discuss?” He turned back to the Tech and stared, hard-eyed.

*

“Brilliant!” Kookka said with a slap on his back. “By the highest sphere, I have to say that was your most magnificent performance yet. Not once losing your humour – and that after being scared halfway to Pendolsphere by those dragons. You still feeling shaky after that?”

Jess shook his head. Although he wouldn’t soon forget how close he’d come to his death. But no, it wasn’t the dragons, it was her. He must squash that thought, squash the memory. He couldn’t allow thoughts of it here, not where the Techs could access them. He didn’t want to join that juvenile hanging on that tree.

Kookka nudged him. “You’re distracted again.”

“No, I’m…I’m not.”

“Then why have you walked straight past your hive as if it’s not there?”

Jess glanced back. “Oh. It’s the thought of that holo – the one that was working.” Well, that was what was distracting him now, with that memory brought fresh and full to the fore. “What was the vision saying, before the skin….” He shuddered, unable to continue. In his mind’s eye he saw the holo’s image replaced by her. Her skin stripped, blood seeping and dripping from her raw body. His stomach churned worse than space sickness.

“Don’t tell me you’re fine,” Kookka said. “Something’s wrong with you. Look at you, pale as…as pale as Ayin’s moon. And away into some other sphere.”

“I admit I need to talk to you, Kookka.” He looked around to see where there might be a listening ear. But he couldn’t risk talking here, even without the Ops and Obs there were still the Techs. “You remember yesterday on our recce, those islands we saw offshore? We need to visit them.”

“You’re thinking there might be another skein out there, not yet picked up by the Techs?” Kookka asked.

“Yea,” Jess grasped at Kookka’s suggestion. “Yea, that’s right. Well, we’ve just seen how inept the Techs. Anything could be happening over there, unknown to them. We’ll take a flier. And Joel.”

*

Jess signed for the flier. The Tech – number 4492321 – bodily blocked access to the port until it was done.

“Purpose?” Tech 4492321 asked and again held out the leather-bound log.

“Exploratory visit,” Jess said. “There might be another skein to our breed-pool inhabiting.”

“We have no record—”

“You had no record of defunct holos either. Now move. Or I shall pick you up and physically remove you.”

The Tech’s eyes travelled up the height of Jess – taller at least by a half, not to mention robust of build – and stepped aside.

“It is already far past midday,” the Tech said. “We shall have that flier returned before the light dies.”

“Sure,” Jess said, and with determined tread walked out to the three holding stands. Two were empty: one in use for the holo-repair, the other transporting textile ops, Eulal and Niapse, with their domestic and catering support to Hive Seven, on a plateau above the lands of Skein Three. One flier remained.

Jess gestured for Joel to take control.

“Yea?” the bud’s eyes lit up.

“Providing you can lift it high without a wobble and then head it out southward.”

“South-westward,” Kookka amended.

Jess glanced sideways at him. Then nodded agreement. “South-westward.”

“Hey,” Joel exclaimed as they left the shoreline behind. “Did you two see what I saw? Those Sanki are dabbling in the sea. And I’d swear I saw one disappear then a few blinks later reappear.”

“Diving,” Kookka said with a glance at Jess.

Right now, Jess wanted to shrink into his silken jacket.

“Do they swim?” Joel asked.

“I’ve seen that on several planets,” Kookka said. Jess knew the tale that his friend was about to tell and wished that he wouldn’t. “The breed-pool not only splash about in water but dive as well. Shellfish, they’re after shellfish.”

“Can either of you swim like that?”

“Your mind should be on flying, not swimming,” Jess said. “And we’re Monza. Techs and Monza do not swim.”

“Not even if we get pushed in,” Kookka added.

“Did that happen?”

“Joel, you’re allowing yourself to be distracted. You crash this flier, we’re in big trouble.”

Jess didn’t want the story told, how he’d been near to the water on Simmah Zayin when a four-footed hive-sized dlangi caught him a glancing blow and over he went. And in. And down, and down, and down. He had flailed, trying to find a way up and out before he ran out of air. Kookka had fished deep into the water, found his hair, and yanked him up. “You shouldn’t panic, panic just takes you deeper.”

Jess never asked how Kookka knew that.

“Far enough yet?” Kookka kindly changed the subject. The basecamp had disappeared within the folded hills. Beneath them all was sea.

Jess reached a hand up to the control panel above him and threw all switches to off.

“Even air?” Kookka asked with concern.

“This flier holds plenty,” Joel said, as if he already knew what this was about. Perhaps he did; Jess judged him a bright one.

“Keep to south-westward,” said Jess. “Take us over the first island, but then beyond it take us down – but not so low we skim the sea. Then two islands along, veer eastward.”

Without looking at Jess, Joel remarked, “Your south destination, as you originally said.”

“He catches quick,” Kookka said.

“Yea, well, let’s hope the Techs don’t.”

“Not thinking there might be another breed-pool there, then,” Joel more said than asked.

“It’s been checked out,” Jess said. “Though that was five preevos past. Fifty years. Solar. Local.”

“So, there might be,” Joel said. “Lots can happen….”

Jess agreed. “Like a freshwater spring might suddenly appear.”

“Ah, no water source?”

“Not fresh, no. Plenty of sulphurous stuff.”

Jess watched Joel’s face, watched his eyes as they looked from himself to Kookka and back, more than once. He watched while the bud chewed on his lip while he thought. He watched the bud frown.

“I’m thinking this flight’s just an excuse, that really you want to know about…” Joel licked his lips “…a certain place.”

Jess looked around the flier’s pentagonal cabin. They must now be way out of range of the Techs, even a Tech determined to hear them.

“What place might that be?” Kookka asked, having made the same risk assessment.

“Adamzal,” Jess said. “Our one-time home planet; inhabited now only by the Amzal.”

“The same Amzal who declared war on the Tech colonies?” Kookka asked, though Jess knew that he knew the answer. “The same Amzal who, during that war, killed off all our fertile females.”

“The Breeders are gone, we are left only with Phantasms and Dreams,” quoted Joel.

“Yea, those,” Kookka said.

“But it wasn’t the Amzal,” Joel said. “It was the Techs. None of the Techs’ tales are true.”

While Kookka looked askance, a frown showing his thoughts, Jess merely nodded. This wasn’t the first he’d heard of it. But he’d never heard it from someone who’d actually been to Adamzal and retained the memory.

To be continued

Meanwhile, I appreciate any comments you make

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Sunday Picture Post: February’s Beach and Park

23rd February 2025 promised to be a sunny day. But, oh dear, high winds forecast for the afternoon. With it also being a Sunday, when the bus service isn’t grand, we decided to walk our cameras close to home. As the title says, along the beach and to the park. Please, join us

23rd February 2025

We begin our walk with a stroll through the Venetian Water Gardens on the seafront

23rd February 2025

Mr and Mrs Mallard are resident. They’re amongst the many ducks that nest on the small islands here

23rd February 2025

A touch of the Italianate

23rd February 2025

Up, up the steps and we’re onto the beach where recent waves have left their mark with a tracery of small stones

23rd February 2025

23rd February 2025

The wind-turbines always tempt my lens, 1.5 miles out at sea

23rd February 2025

Above: We leave the beach via the dunes (see Tuesday Treats for photos taken there) Below: A convenient shelter from the weather. I’m sure it once had a wooden bench

23rd February 2025

23rd February 2025

Bure Park, situated beside River Bure, can be rather squelchy underfoot. It’s not too wet today

23rd February 2025

The ubiquituous catkins!

23rd February 2025

23rd February 2025

Pochards overwinter here. Makes a change from mallards, coots and moorhens

23rd February 2025

But pochards are less used to walkers, especially walkers with dogs. And they’re off to the river beyond the ‘wall’

Hope you enjoyed. See Tuesday Treats for more photos from this walk

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