Ada Unawares

Trellissimo had his finger on the button!

"HeHe . . Ada doesn't know I snapped this, specially for Eric (Bubba) Alder."

P.S. Caddoc was heard to say" Getting nude would be too rude for Ada Trellis, look you! She is such a modest soul - except...  when Trell was on a roll with his secret snapping! I think it might be fair to say he caught fair Ada anyway - though certainly not napping!"

BUT 55 is not my age, said Ada!

However, to welcome G-Man back to the fold, there are exactly 55 words in my offering below...

“But Mrs. Jones' bonny maid! Ah!
Now she's my Beloved Ada . . . "

(words by one smart Doctor FTSE.)

Here’s my Ada – what a Tootsie!

And Jane and Margaret as well

were very curious, I could tell

to see Beloved in her glory,

just to finish off the story…

over on Trellis Fencing!

If none of this makes any sense to you at all - which is quite likely  -  click on the link and read the comments!

Then PLEASE will somebody tell me what has happened to Trellissimo?

Stop Press

If anybody is wondering what has happened to Ada and I, they can find out by clicking HERE. Sorry we didn't send you a postcard...

P.S. Have any of you seen Trellissimo? The police wish to question him, in regards to the discovery of this poor drowned lady...

Tess was a major witness at the scene, which was recorded for posterity by an artist friend of hers. Odilon Redon. Thanks to both of them, at Mag 124

Green Fingers?

As Caddoc is no stranger to the subject of gardening, I'm sure this week's Mag 120  from Tess met with his approval! It certainly set me thinking...

Image by Klaus Enrique Gerdes

Caddoc's little greenhouse and kitchen garden plot
get overloaded, summer time, with all the plants he's got
to flourish with his tender care -  once started, he can't stop!

Poor Ada has a problem with with finding room to freeze
all his fruit and veggies..."More rhubarb? Caddoc, please!"
The thought of all the cooking brings Ada to her knees.

There, in her busy kitchen, his Ada wails and grumbles.
"Does this mean I'll have to bake at least two dozen crumbles
to use it up? Will so much fruit make all our stomachs rumble?

And soon there will be strawberries and apples by the ton.
Will our culinary capers never all be done?"
But Caddoc merely smiles and says "Ada, you are a one!

You know you love fresh fruit and veg that I bring to the table.
You should thank your lucky stars that your Caddoc is able
to utilise his talents so, to produce his "Home Grown" label!

High Flying Swingers?

Ada and Caddoc, on enjoyment bent, went to the show in the circus Big Tent, but later that night, when they snuggled in bed, the strangest ideas lurked inside Caddoc's head.

"Ada my love, would you ever aspire to be one of those ladies who walk the high wire? Or maybe, to swing on flying trapeze would seem a more elegant act? It might please your thirst for adventure, to learn something new..."

But Ada was frosty. " What's up with you? Will you never learn to stop larking around? Can you see me enjoying life, far above ground level, flaunting my assets in stretchy pink tights and my mascara running because of the lights and the heat of the crowd; not to mention the fear that would make me perspire, I'm certain. Dear, dear! Without even trying, you're always a clown. Now shut up, or I'll gag you with the whole eiderdown!"

Another Trellis Tale written as a result of Circus Fever inspired by Tess and Marc Chagall, at Mag #118.

The Triumvirate

I think Gauguin might have turned in his grave, if he'd known about this re-construction of his painting, which Tess so ably chose for her Mag #117
 

Trell is lunching with Ada and Caddoc
on Colwyn Bay's finest boiled haddoc.
Said Trell "This is vile!
It smells like the piles 
that donkeys discharge in their paddoc."

To which a handy passer by was heard to mutter in reply:

" I have a hunch this sorry bunch
were hoping for a spot of lunch.
But oh my goodness gracious me
they must have been bananas!
There's Ada sandwiched in between
a right old pair of charmers…"

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.