Where's Michael When You Need Him?

Thanks to my buddy Caddoc, two prompts were brought to my attention today, The Mag, with its photo by R A D Stainforth, and IGWRT with its Sunday Challenge to write a Florette. Here I attempt to kill two birds with one stone...

N.B. I hope you get the gist of  the reference in the title...

In summer, several years ago,

two certain people whom I know

once thought they’d hire a little boat

and have a jolly time afloat

                                            and learn to row.

Our Ada , as you may have guessed,

was less than suitably impressed

by Caddoc’s wielding of the oars,

and he, when blessed with no applause,

                                           got very stressed.

“Move over Caddoc, let me try.

I’m sure I’ll make our wee craft fly!”

and Ada bent her back and rowed.

“There you see, you useless toad!

                                       I’m far more spry.”

And truly, she had got the knack,

whizzed them upstream  -  but drifted back,

which gave her arms a chance to rest,

folded across her ample chest,

                                               a noble stack!

Caddoc, meanwhile, helped her steer –

“Now, left hand down a bit just here.

That’s it keep going! You’re so strong,

you make this small craft dash along.

                                      Well done my dear!”

“ How dare you, Caddoc, sing my praises

sitting there admiring daisies!”

But Caddoc merely grinned, the loon -

for, don’t we know, he’s the one whom

                                           nothing phases?

Red Shed Roof?!

Our artistic senses have been stimulated by Tess Kincaid this week. She featured a painting by Marc Chagall, entitled 'Red Roofs', which you can see in its full glory HERE 

As usual, the combined Trellis brainpower flipped, and 'red' became 'green' as they hummed along to the old, well known melody of 'Greensleeves'. Many apologies to Henry VIII, Chagall and Tess for the liberties we have taken.

Cad woke one morning and leapt out of bed
determined to paint the roof of his shed.
The ladder slipped and he fell on his head -
Now his gardening jacket has red sleeves.

Red shed-roofs are Caddoc's joy
Red shed-roofs are his delight,
but Ada has a heart of stone,
and scoffed at poor Caddoc's two red sleeves.

"Your laughter, dear, will break my heart!"
her Caddoc cried as he lay prostrate.
"We've always been a world apart,
but my heart is true to my lifelong mate."

Red shed-roofs are Caddoc's joy
Red shed-roofs are his delight,
but Ada’s heart remains like  stone,
as she  laughs at poor Caddoc's two red sleeves.

"I've aye been ready with hoe and spade
to grow the vegetables for your plate,
but for all the efforts I have made
you are still disdainful of your mate."

Red shed-roofs are Caddoc's joy
Red shed-roofs are his delight.
But he must enjoy them on his own
for Ada does not like his red sleeves.

   
“Fair Ada continues to give me grief,
yet still her scolding enraptures me,
I long for occasional light relief,
though I revel in my captivity.”

Red shed-roofs are Caddoc's joy
Red shed-roofs are his delight.
But Ada says”Leave me alone,
you bumbling Caddoc with red sleeves”.

“If I should strip myself to the buff,
hold both of my bare arms open wide
with no red sleeves to make you huff…
might that appeal to your softer side?”

Red shed-roofs are Caddoc's joy
Red shed-roofs are his delight.
So Ada agrees ” That’s more likely to please-,
you  look much better, Cad, without red sleeves”.

Ship Ahoy!

With thoughts of floating eggshells offered by Tess, came the chance to indulge in another off-beat escapade for our off-beat, Trellis trio. Many thanks and apologies go to her, the artist, and of course, Edward Lear!

 

Cad, Ada and Trell sallied forth one day,

in a beautiful egg-shell boat.
They'd a case full of whisky and Ada got frisky,
wrapped up in her fake fur coat.
Old Cad looked up to the stars above
and sang to a small banjo.
“O lovely Ada, O Ada my love,
you've a fabulous frontage you know,
you know,
you know.
You’ve a fabulous frontage you know."

Ada glowered at Cad which made him feel sad
“Give over and stop that talk,
or we’ll leave you behind and then you may find
it’s an awfully long way to walk!
From fair Colwyn Bay we’re sailing away

to a land where no Bong Tree grows!"

But there, looking good, Trellissimo stood

With a dreep at the end of his nose,
his nose,
his nose
with a dreep at the end of his nose.

"So, Trell,  are you willing to make cheesecake filling
from the moon, if we travel that far?"
Gallant Trell shook his head and off they all sped.
“Does anyone know where we are?"
(They dined on mints after multiple hints
that their whisky breath smelled too strong)
"Whisky chasers in pocket, we’ll fly like a rocket!
What intrepid explorers we are,
we are,
we are
what intrepid explores we are!”

Cool It!

Each time Ada lost her cool and made poor Caddoc feel a fool, his mind played rather nasty tricks. He never quite knew how to fix whatever grouse had led her mind to be vindictive. Could he find a way to lessen the effect of feeling like a duff reject?

At last, he hit upon a plan to boost his confidence. A man could haply face domestic strife from a nagging, angry wife, if he painted, in his head, her face with garish colours! Instead  of shivering sadly in his shoes, he found this ploy could let him choose how he’d dampen down her wrath - (like dousing chip pans with a cloth designed to  blanket flames… )

So the red of Ada’s ire, like those flames in chip pan fire, he  damped down to coolest blue – I like her better so – don’t you?

With thanks and acknowledgements to Tess and Sarolta Bàn, who feature in The Mag 107.

Look Before You Leap

"To think" mused Ada "I proposed to Cad. I thought that he was such a lovely lad. But I soon realised his garden shed was more attractive to him than our bed. I did not know he wore such gruesome hats. I did not understand we'd have such spats. Are you surprised my mouth quite soon turned down, that where there once were smiles there's now a frown? I HATE the way he scratches at his belly. I do not like my life in Abergele. Sometimes I think I ought to run away and find myself a flat in Colwyn Bay. Look out!  He's coming in. And oh . . my nose is telling me he's bringing me Leap Year roses! Do I misjudge him? Has he a kind heart? All the same, I wish that he'd not f**t so loudly when he's thinning seedlings... He tries to get round me with his wheedling words, which (he should know), I find absurd!
Especially when trumpeting’s all that I’ve heard!

Ella at IGWRT asked that we wrote about sounds we heard - but she probably never expected these... Haha! 

Shopaholic Versus Alcoholic?

Caddoc closed his calloused fist
upon a crumpled shopping list
and glared at stacked up tins of soup.
“Why am I always such a noop
who tries  unfailingly to follow
Ada’s law, though hard to swallow…
(unlike her cans of Campbell’s soup
made from chickens) Could I stoop
to crafty levels?
Be a wild, rebellious devil?
Buy the beer I’ve lately missed?
I’d promise I would not get p*****
by drinking all the tins at once.
I was never such a dunce
that I could not slake my thirst
without succumbing to the worst
fate that ever mankind knew-
intoxication from a brew
of hops and other heady potions
designed to give a fellow notions...”

But once back home Cad was surprised.
Things were not as he'd surmised.
His Ada said "I'm tired of tea.
You've something stronger there, I see.
So why don't we two share a tinfull?"
(More than that she'd think was sinful.)
They sat, drank, giggled at the telly,
the merriest pair in Abergele,
till Ada looked at Cad askance,
decided she would take a chance,
"You've fuelled my ardour with one can.
So get upstairs, you norty man!"

In her Mag 106, Tess has brought our attention to the delights of shopping for well known cans of soup...All of which caused Caddoc's and Ada's minds to wander...

On Yer Bike!

Our hapless pair set out in tandem one fine day, to ride at random. Of a sudden, Cad sees he’s alone. He stops and pulls out mobile phone.

"Is that the Coastguard?  Caddoc Trellis here. Ada's lost along the way, I fear! We set out for a cycle ride. She fell behind.      

I've hunted far and wide from Pentre Mawr and Pensarn, all the way along the coast from Rhyl to Colwyn Bay. I'm getting filled with vague alarm. It's not like my Ada. Has she fallen off her bike? Is she lying by the roadside in distress, her lycra cycling suit a muddy mess? 

Wait!  Sorry that I bothered you. Just found my Ada's in a phone booth, on the ground! I dare not say how little she is wearing! I need to know her reason for her baring all, in this psychedaelic phone booth's light… to anyone but me, a fearsome sight.

     
"Ada!  What do you think you’re doing here?"                             

"Could that be Caddoc's voice? He sounds quite near."       

"Ada, dearest!  THIS EDIFICE IS NOT A SUNBED! Have you, perchance, quite lost your head? I’ve long suspected you might be every bit as mad as me!!!"

Thanks once again to Tess, whose Mag 105 called forth this madness from the Trellis Tribe..

Mud, Mud, Glorious Mud!

Caddoc heard mud baths were good for the skin and wondered how he might persuade Ada in to sample the benefits, though she'd get mucky. 
I thought she'd say,   

"Cad, it's too yucky, ducky. How dare you suggest it? That one such as I, whose addiction to purity none can deny, should flounder about in a tub full of slime? That's tantamount to matrimonial crime!"
But Caddoc was tired of her protestations...
"I'm determined to remedy this situation. I’ll sully that image that's whiter than white, at least in her own eyes. I will give her a fright! I'll make a mud bath but top it with bubbles - cleaning  them up will be least of my troubles… Ada already makes me feel more than a tad useless and hopeless. It’s time I got mad!”
But when Ada lay daintily down in the bath She was a LONG way from having a laugh.  
“Help! What has happened? Someone get me out!”Came the heartrending sound of her piquant shout. 
“Trell to the rescue!” yelled I. Then with haste I hauled mudcaked Ada, now very red faced, onto the bathmat, trying not to stare as dollops of mud trickled down from her hair.

Then I gave her a blow dry, body and all and the mud formed a solid shell, waiting to fall, just like a plaster cast. That’s when I retired, and left  her to Caddoc. He was inspired. He baked her mud-mould and created ‘art’which he hung in the lobby. And that was the start of another new hobby for Mister C.T., the frustrated artist of this family!

This fol-de-rol was inspired by Tess Kinkaid's Magpie Tales #104, where you will find many more offerings.

Men Will Be Boy Racers.

Caddoc, deep in mid-life crisis, sought new outlets which was why his thinking turned to 4 by 4's. Freedom! Fresh air! Out of doors, with shed and Ada far behind, he could roam freely. He would find trackways wild across the hills. All North Wales out there for thrills. So he sent for information, planned trips to hilltop destinations. Mount Snowdon via the Horseshoe Pass. Who knows? Maybe he'd meet a lass stranded with her big-end shot. Then he'd soon show her age is not a bar to wielding jack and tools. "We wrinklies, we are no-one's fools. From Abergele to Porthmadoc I'll be known as Whizzwheels Caddoc!"

Said Ada, "Cad - your lamp grows dimmer. All you need's a four wheeled zimmer. No point in looking so forlorn. Now look you!  Practise on the lawn."

Trick Or Treat?

After being smitten with artistic dreams last year, you may remember Caddoc invested in some expensive equipment, (see HERE) but now... Caddoc's easel stood neglected...for painting wasn't as expected...

"Your daubs are random, they're a fright. They'd give real painters sleepless nights!" Ada dissed them, out of hand.
" They didn't turn out how I planned, but many oddball paintings sell  for millions, as you know full well." Disgruntled, Caddoc turned and fled back to the comfort of his shed, determined to produce a work that wouldn't send his wife berserk.

But after many fruitless hours, he chose to employ subtler powers. He bought a large Kandinsky print, (which left him absolutely skint) and pasted it onto a board. "That'll have my Ada floored. She'll think I've improved, overnight. She won't dare call this 'oeuvre' a fright!"

But Ada's taste was so not modern -

for she liked Titian's glorious auburn
haired and buxom models.
Caddoc's task would be no doddle...
 

And that is how events transpired. The outcome Caddoc so desired  was blown, when Ada, the Welsh Minxsy said "Why not just buy a real Kandinsky?"

Inspiration for this post is all down to Tess and Kandinsky, over at The Mag.

Year Of The Dragon

Ada was plagued by a nightmare. She thought she was tied to the bed and a horrible vision appeared in her mind - a dragon, all flaming and red...

"Oh, the flames are too near! I'll be roasted alive!" were the words on her lips as she woke,"Is my bottom on fire?  I'm certain it is - why, surely that smell is ...is...SMOKE?!

"When Caddoc and I had a night on the town, quaffing rice wine  by the flagon, I forgot my poor head...Now its dreams  have hit hard, I wish I had stayed on the waggon! "

"There there, beloved. Worry no more.That posh Chinese nosh was to blame - I'm sure by the morning all will be well." Caddoc's words sounded awfully lame.

But wait! On a sudden, SHE was the dragon. Caddoc soon would be quaking with fear, now wifey had morphed to a Welsh Dragon Ada, toasting the Chinese New Year!

(For more bare bottoms, see The Mag ...and this!)

But then, Caddoc Trellis sent a poem to me by email last night after reading my post (above). He asked me to keep it under wraps, which naturally is why I'm adding it as a tailpiece (so to speak.)

When I get in THAT position
only one thing's on my mind.
Is someone with a lighted match
creeping up behind
waiting for a fearsome blast
of noxious Winter Wind?**
An unkind way, I do declare
of burning off my botty hair!

**Must pronounce "Wind" as in Shakespeare's  "Oh blow thou wintry wind, thou art not so unkind as Man's ingratitude...  "

What do YOU see in the dark?

I have to thank several fellow bloggers** for the pictures they've posted in the past couple of days, as together they inspired a unique collage - like so - for which I shall be forever indebted to them...

When Caddoc's carrots came to light, two filled Ada with delight... they set her dreaming in a trice -
"Norty, Ada  - That's not nice!"
But, deary me, alas alack, those dreams kept coming back... and back...

"Ada! Restrain these nighttime habits ...or you and Cad will breed like rabbits!"

**From left to right, top to bottom, the bloggers in need of thanks are Friko (Fridge Soup) Doctor FTSE (Stop! This is getting very SILLY) and Tess (Magpie Tales). Why not visit them and say "Hi!" from me, Trellissimo?

Laughable?

Poetry Jam's request that we have a good laugh this week, reminded me of this video. Listen and look carefully, and you may spot a young Ada, both serious and laughing, as she mimics Brittania whilst the gentlemen serenade her...

Then you can sing along to the chorus with these alternative words...

Song For Ada

"Rock me, Mama like a waggon wheel,
rock me Mama any way you feel "-
I'm your Caddoc and sure, I'm real!
Oh Mama!
(plinka-plinka-plink-plink)

Dig my potatoes and trim my leeks -
be the perfect lady love that I seek.
You can pluck my banjo any day of the week
Oh Mama!
(winka-winka-wink-wink)

Let's forget the warring and call a truce-
trip the light fantastic 'til we both turn puce
and need to drink a gallon of orange juice.
Oh Mama!
(drinka-drinka-drink-drink)

And if you want to see/hear the original lyrics for comparison, here they are!

Times Change

Once the word 'café' suggested good food -
a meal or a snack which would match with your mood -
or your poor rumbling tummy. You’d hear it complain
to remind you, you really should fill it again!
Now 'internet cafés', those new fangled fashions,
tempt customers who'll be left short of food rations!

The menus of yesteryear offered you toast
or whatever fast food you might fancy the most.
You chose from eggs, bacon, beans, coffee and ham.
Now menus show "copy", "paste" "select"-
And "SPAM"!

Thanks to the illustration by George Tooker which Tess used on her Magpie Tales #94 this week, it set The Trellis Household thinking, and they combined to come up with the above 'comic strip' (?) in picture and words.

Red Couch

"Why look you pensive, dearest Cad? Has something I said made you sad?"
"No Beloved. There's no telling the mysteries of English spelling."
"What a way to start the morning! Usually you lie there yawning."
Cad retorted "Think of couch. Note the word's a rhyme for Ouch."
Ada gave a little groan. "Cad's world is for Cad alone."
"But," said Cad, "It grieves me much, that couch is not a rhyme for touch."
 "Now you're talking, dearest Cad!  Couch and touch don't sound too bad.
Forget about the imperfect rhyme. Ada thinks it's couching time!"

When Ada and Caddoc embarked  on their latest discussion, sparked by this week's Magpie Tales,  no doubt this picture is not quite what they were envisioning, However, they didn't bank on Trellissimo's Think Tank Brain Box, did they? He had other ideas!

This detail is from  a photograph by Christine Donnier-Valentin, which the lovely Tess featured in her post #93.

Kiss

There is a picture on Magpie Tales this week, of two very famous people sharing a kiss, and it made me think of My Beloved.  I decided to write a poem on the subject, just for the Mag  - Ada would probably think I was barmy!

People say that it's love makes the world spin around,
Not sure about that, but I've always found
my Ada can certainly set me a-spinning!
With one little kiss she will know she is winning
whenever we find we are scrapping, or fighting,
SHE WINS hands down, with her kiss like forked lightening!

For it shivers my timbers and makes my toes curl -
by golly, she's something, my funny old girl.
On the surface she's grouchy - bit like a Marx brother
but deep down inside she's a soft-hearted lover.
So no matter how often we start with a dogfight
we can kiss and make up, and soon everything's alright!

Foot Traffic

This week, Tess at Magpie Tales focussed our attention on  the delights, or not, of cars and it set me thinking...

In the wilds of Abergele
we shun traffic fumes. Phew! Smelly!
The classic wellie boot prevails
as people's feet stomp round the town,
climb craggy hills, both up and down.
Clear, high peaks crown our kingdom, Wales.

And on Tuesday there was an explanation of a Welsh poetic form called Cywydd Llosgyrnog on Imaginary Garden. What a coincidence! So I've had a go at it here.

On The Subject Of Ducks...

I bring you a rural tale inspired by Tess  with her Magpie #87, mostly to show there is a continuation of  life after the ball...

To recover from dancing the whole night away, the Trellises went for a long walk next day, enjoying the countryside, doing no harm, until their route led them to a favourite farm. On one side of the farmyard a weed covered pond was full of live quackers of which they were fond. But as Caddoc approached too near to the edge, remarking "I wonder how often they dredge this to clear it of weed and extraneous matter?" his foot slipped, and there came an end to his chatter as with a splash he toppled and fell right onto a duck! He rang its death knell for it’s neck got bent over and a horrible ‘Crack!’ made the Trellises shiver - It was one stone-dead duck, with feathers still warm, but no sign of a quiver of life. It’d never again enjoy pond or river…

The farmer strode up. "What’s all this commotion? You’ve killed a poor duck? Don’t get any notion about sneaking it off to provide a free dinner! In this situation, there’ll be only one winner… And that’ll be me! Now get you both gone, before I call the dogs! They’ll soon set upon you trespassing Trellises!" and he chased them away, with Cad muttering "Sorry! What more can I say?"

You Shall Go To The Ball!

I know I am no Cinderella but here I am with my Welsh fella heading out for Willow's ball. He's shed his gardening overall but not his crumpled hat... I fear those purple flares are yesteryear. And see me in the height of fashion! Could it enflame some dancer's passion who'll sweep me up in his embrace and look with rapture on my face and...  "Sorry, Caddoc, dearest dear, I'd quite forgotten you were here.
And lest you think I'm playing false,I'll share with you the Midnight Waltz."

Thank you Tess, for letting us attend your grand function!

P.S. Trellissimo wants to add his twopenn'orth, as he happened to have visited an Imaginary Garden with real toads, and wanted to dip his oar in the water, hoping he may be allowed to join us as an honorary guest - or even by the back door? Here's his ticket:-

Ada and Caddoc agree,
that they'll be a hip old pair
who'll attend the Willow Ball
looking like Sonny and Cher.

They both remember the time-
O sublime and carefree days -
when Flower Power flourished
and life passed by in a haze.

Retribution!

A reporter and photographer next morning hurried round from "The Abergele Trumpeter", the  local rag. They found  they couldn't speak to Ada, for Cad was home alone, standing in the wreckage. They heard him sigh and groan.
"Tell us what happened to your shed?" <<<Click here to find out!

By now the elephant had fled  leaving  matchwood all around and plum stones thick upon the ground.
"We'd like to take a photograph to give our readership a laugh. The Circus has agreed to pay. You Trellises have won the day! We promise to deliver wood to build a shed where once one stood!"Caddoc, now no longer tearful, greeted Ada. "Now I'm cheerful! I'll end up pictured in the papers because of elephantine capers."

And so Caddoc rebuilt his shed and Ada, watching Caddoc said, "Now what bee is in his bonnet? He's painting lots of mice upon it!"  She waited till he came back in, wearing for once a cheery grin." That will stop the wrinkly beast that thought to make a tasty feast of Trellis leeks and plums and such. My rebuilt shed it will not touch!"

But Ada, puzzled, said "Why not?  Your rebuilt shed has nothing got that heretofore the old one had. Except those painted mice, so, Cad, explain yourself. And make it good. I really never thought I would have to gaze on painted mice, although your brushwork is quite nice."

And Caddoc said, "Why Ada dear, mice alone are what they fear! All elephants will pass us by when mice upon my shed they spy!" But Ada shook her doubting head. "God give me strength!" she sadly said.

With many thanks to Tess at Magpie Tales, who this week featured a painting containing the very newspaper in which this 

happening was reported!

 

 

Plumb Crazy

"What was that noise?" cried Caddoc, awaking with a start. He shook the sleeping Ada, saying "Hark to that, dear heart! There's something in the garden … No! It's not my dreaming head!"  But Ada cried "Why, look you, Cad! We're only just to bed." Cad drew back their bedroom curtain, to see his joy and pride- his 'Safe From Ada' garden shed - was lying on its side.

It had put up no resistance. It had truly had met its match and massive rounded footprints trailed around his cabbage patch. His leeks had been uprooted then cast in haste aside in favour of the juicy plums the intruder had espied. And, squatting on its haunches with a big smile on its face, its curled trunk picking off his plums as if it owned the place "An ELEPHANT!" cried Caddoc, and Ada sighed "What next?" She was used to Caddoc’s teasing, but today she was perplexed, for he sounded so insistent, his tale had to be true...

See, this Houdini elephant hadn’t run off from a  Zoo - but Monty Python’s Flying Circus, in the neighbourhood to entertain the public and astound the great and good, the lowly and the highborn, with acts of daring-do...I’d love to buy a ticket for that show! Now, wouldn’t you?

Thanks to Tess at Magpie Tales for producing an elephant in the room this week!

Snake Charmers Extraordinaires!

While Caddoc was busy with  paint pots galore Ada decided she'd like something more. She started to mull over lots of ideas to lighten the dullness of forty long years with Caddoc, who spent so much time in his shed his to'ings and fro'ings always by-passed her bed. She enrolled in a class on "Seducing With Snakes" and perfected a 'charming' technique that would make Cad less resemble a wet little weed, with knees all a tremble but a lover who'd feed her with fantasies - the kind a girl needs to perk up her day... And I think this cartoon says it all, in a way...

       

Tess put the Snake Charmer notion into people's heads at Magpie Tales this week. Ada, as might be expected, interpreted it in her own unique fashion...

Calm Before The Storm

Having removed my paint daubed shoes **  I've crept away to my shed to prepare for Ada's wrath in the only way I know how- by taking solace in rhyme.  Thanks to various Blogworld people, this has taken on a new twist today...

Caddoc Clown In Rondeau Mode


Bring on the clowns! Let laughter rule,
for everybody loves a fool.
Let them jest and tumble madly,
painted faces peering sadly
at a world too harsh and cruel

to please the King of All Misrule.
Clowning may fall between two stools;
they mock us, and we take taunts gladly;
we sometimes copy them, but badly.
Bring on the clowns!

Their merriment, if learned in school
can be a lifelong, useful tool
to help our flagging spirits rally,
so let's make haste - no time to tarry-
and mirth may well our joy refuel.
Bring on the clowns!

** Click this link for the back story, and read more rondeaux HERE at Imaginary Garden..

Foot In Mouth? Not This Time, Caddoc...

Ada, startled from a dream, awoke and gave a piercing scream.  For there, suited in ghostly white she saw, or thought she saw, a fright - (line break, hahahaha!) 

ful image standing by her bed, a zombie wearing Caddoc's head! 

But who else could wear that silly hat, save Caddoc? She cried "Out, you prat. What stupid joke is this you're playing? You've very little chance of staying to watch me getting up and dressed, although you'll always do your best to hang around and drool and flirt while Ada's putting on her skirt..."

“ Beloved, you’re a sight that pleases; I start to think of hugs… and sqeezes...You! In your dainty night attire, you know you set my lust afire! But hush you now, I beg you, stop. I am about to paint your top (*). Now our boudoir’s spick and span, I thought I’d play the handyman again and paint the kitchen ceiling. Can’t you see I am appealing to your tidy side my sweet? I know you like things clean and neat.”

And Caddoc in his pristine whites (shunning the thought of all delights) made his way down to the kitchen, forgetting Ada and her bewitching charms for just a little while. He concentrated on the pile of paint pots, brushes, roller trays that haunted dreams and filled his days with busy minutes. “Splish!” and “Splosh!” the bristles went.

“There, now, that’s posh" our Caddoc said while stepping back… But, goodness me! Alas! Alack! His size nine foot went in the paint –  

A handy man is what he ain’t!!!

Wait till Ada sees… to be continued…

But click on (*) above to see the back story.

What Is The World Coming To?

I was enjoying my evening stroll along the canal bank when I came across this depraved piece of graffiti on  a wall.  Normally I would avert my eyes and pass by, but it struck me that it fulfilled the requirements of a blog-prompt I saw whilst keeping an eye on the adventures of my friends Ada and Caddoc Trellis. Fortunately or perhaps not, I found the prompt from my browser "History"  You too can find it  - here.

And here is the vile verse. I can well imagine that its execution took considerably less than a minute.

I hauled out my member.

She let go her drawers.

An allegro knee-trembler

and several encores.

Not On The Scrap Heap Yet!

Ada woke one morning, stood before her looking glass and said "Today I'm feeling good.  I think I'll join a class of body building ladies to accentuate my curves." She wondered for a moment if she'd ever have the nerve to don a skimpy scarlet kit to give her Cad a treat, and imagined how such actions might knock him off his feet...

For many weeks her dumbbells rang. "I think I've proved my point. I am no Ada-Stick-In-Mud with nose put out of joint by any shapely siren.  I can compete with the best," and she flexed the well-toned muscles that held aloft her chest.

She kept it all a secret, went about her daily chores, until one Wednesday afternoon, loud footsteps clomped indoors… Caddoc, entering from his shed, called 'Cooee! Are you there?"
"Yes dear, come you in and sit." and Caddoc, unaware of his wife's intentions, perched upon the wooden stool she lead him to, but nonetheless, he managed to stay cool.
"I'll only be a moment, for I need to change my clothes" and Ada gave a saucy grin and wrinkled up her nose...
 
When she walked back in the kitchen, how Caddoc gawped and stared – It was such a transformation he was truly unprepared for  the sight that greeted him! He could not believe his eyes - Ada as a scarlet woman? Boyo! That was some surprise!

"I thought that I'd been relegated to the 'naughty' stool?”
“Oh, Caddoc, will you never learn? You really are a fool (*) !”

And Ada stormed off in a huff…But I hope Tess won't when she realises this was triggered by her 'Stuck-in-the-mud' abandoned vehicle on Magpie Tales!

(*) And there's more proof  here if you need it. Just  click the link before the asterisk...

Ideal Gift

Caddoc is a man with a dress sense all his own but when I saw him yesterday, out in the rain alone, I was startled when I noticed that he held above his head a very large umbrella in a garish shade of red. He looked for all the world like the guy from Magpie Tales but I thought "That's Caddoc Trellis, from Abergele, Wales... So what on earth's he doing in this seedy part of town?" And if his Ada saw him, would she be inclined to frown? Would he try to reassure her with "I must have lost my way. I was off to buy a pressie, love, in nearby Colwyn Bay. I think I missed my turning as I headed through Pensarn and then it started raining, dear, I muttered "Drat!" and "Darn"'cos when my brolly is unfurled I can only see my feet so I don't know how I ended up in this decrepit street of drinking dens and betting shops, Houses of Ill Repute where naughty girls in fish-net tights hold out Forbidden Fruit. So lead me homeward, Ada, and when all is done and said, I'll gladly do some penance in my lonely garden shed."

Would Ada say, "A pressie, Cad, could put your wrongs to right" if Caddoc beamed and handed her ...
a pair of fish-net tights?

Who's A Real Toad?

Ada dear has called me  "Toad!"
on more than one occasion.
I quickly learned to close my ears
with much determination 
not to falter in my step,
or resort to battle stations.

For toads can hop off mighty fast
they're slippery little critters.
My best defence is to disappear
and quaff a glass of bitter (*)              
safe within my potting shed,
far from Beloved's twitter!

(*) A type of British Beer

There was an invitation issued on Monday "Calling all toads!" - so here I am - eventually!

Heaven's Above?

Surely this is a picture to strike fear into the hearts of all DIY enthusiasts everywhere! 

This week,  Magpie Tales, thanks to Tess, has spotlighted another glorious episode in the Life and Times of the indomitable Ada and Caddoc Trellis.  Recently, a sudden bout of Make Over Fever hit the Trellis household when Ada raised her eyes - not to Heaven - but the ceiling! Which is what some Brits, and particularly Welsh Brits, call their 'Top'. 

Ada, on her back in bed, muttered "When he comes in from his shed, I'll say 'Cad, this top needs doing.' Then he'll know there's trouble brewing."

Unsuspecting, in walks Cad.
   "My basil's looking not half bad, my love!" he calls, and bounds upstairs where Ada, from her store of stares chooses her stoniest.
   "Right, my lad, a brilliant idea I have had! You're now a decorator's mate. We have a room to decorate!"
Caddoc sighs, begins to wallow in thoughts of what is soon to follow. But Ada sugar-coats the pill.
   "When it is done our bedroom will look like a Turkish knocking shop. And then I'll keep you on the hop! Wallpaper won't be all you'll strip... so hasten on a 'Homebase' trip. Here's a list of what we need - and get you back at topmost speed!"

It's best the next week be glossed over. For sure, it was no bed of clover as Caddoc, teetering on a ladder while Ada pasted paper, had a sneaky, hovering premonition that other rooms in poor condition would soon be added to a list where 'Ada's Mark' could not be missed... But paint and paper once renewed, the busy pair stood back and viewed their spruced up boudoir with delight, and so relived their wedding night.

What IS Behind The Green Door, Anyway?

Thanks Tess, for your
Edward Hopper prompt.