Barren

I looked at the guide for tonight,
Anxious to see who was in the limelight,
BBC2 has Portillo riding a train,
We’ve seen them before, but we’ll watch them again,
After that, Dad’s Army is on,
It might be old, but still it’s fun,
BBC1 showing Last Night of the Proms,
I didn’t even catch the first; where have they all gone?
Britain’s Got Talent on ITV,
Oh please, oh please, won’t someone save me?
Something called Kingsman on Channel Four,
I wonder, will I be begging for more?
The Yorkshire Vet on Channel Five,
Eee bah Gum, lad, just nod and say “aye”,
A million more shows, but by now we can see,
In my best Yorkshire accent, there’s nowt on TV.

inspired by Fandango’s One Word Challenge (FOWC) of 12 September, 2020, television.

Now, let’s see, there’s probably bits of this need an explanation for international readers.

Portillo is an ex-politician-turned-TV-presenter. He rides on trains and does travel shows.

“Dads Army” – we all know that, right? If was a British sitcom of the 60s/70s, about a Home Guard platoon in WW2.

The Proms concerts are actually a decent set of classical music concerts. There is a “season” of them every year. If they get any media attention at all, it is likely to be broadcast by the BBC on one of their radio channels, The last night, however, is very flag-waving, with patriotic music like “Land of Hope and Glory”. Our country gets very nostalgic about when we enslaved half the world. I presume that with Lockdown this year, everything ison its head.

“Eee bah gum”, “aye” and “nowt” are all Yorkshire terms, which I’m sure everybody recognises.

Any other ambiguities, post a comment.

And, by the way, you are absoletely right. The poem nearly ended on Line 2 but I changed the rhyme!

In all the wrong places…

I used to groom without a care,
Now the bane of my life is unwanted hair.
It grows in my ears, and in my nose,
It even grows between my toes!

I use my clippers, I try to pluck,
It won’t come off, I think it’s stuck.
Some nail scissors might do the trick,
Except the hair is much too thick.

I wouldn’t mind, I wouldn’t care,
But where it once was, it is not there.
Once ‘pon a time I had a full head,
Now I’m afraid I resemble an egg!

My legs too were once woolly and hairy,
Now, it’s true, they’re bald and scary,
It’s also a shame they’re so pasty and white,
Undressed, I must be an awful sight.

Now and again my eyebrows need attention,
They grow so long, they’re like hair extensions,
I guess you could say they’re nice and plush,
But all I see it a wiry bush.

My pubes, now they continue growing,
Soon my shorts will be overflowing,
But maybe someone with some insight
Could tell me why they’re turning white?

The Lodger

My daughter (who has a cat) has a few problems at the moment. She just had a short spell in hospital, and as somebody who was once in care, it seems to have put her onto their radar. They have some obligation.

The upshot is that the council have agreed to clean her bedsit for her. There is some talk, I believe, of rehousing her permanently.

None of this is really surprising to my wife and I. When she lived here, cleanliness was always an issue. We would have to regularly tidy her room when she was young, and as she became older, it became more difficult to gain access without hysterics. When we cleaned, we would dispose of things like McDonald’s wrappers, which she did not throw away herself, even as a teen. We took to going into her bedroom when she was at school, hoping that she did not notice that we had cleaned things up, because if she did, there would be a fight when she got home. It’s only really with hindsight that I realise we had to be much more hands-on than other parents.

Daughter’s cleanliness has not improved, and now that she lives on her own, there is nothing to prevent this mess. With what has happened recently, in the short term, the council have agreed to clean her place. Their only condition – they want her cat out of the way while the clean happens.

So, for the next few weeks, we have a lodger. Daughter’s cat is staying with us.

Comparing her to any cat who ever lived with us, this cat is antisocial. But… wouldn’t you be?

She arrived five days ago, when she hissed at everything – us, the other cats. But I think she has gradually softened a bit. Yesterday, she allowed me to give her a brief fuss, although so far this morning she has been hissing again.

Yesterday, she also caught her first mouse (while staying here). Because we have the other cats, she is always able to come and go as she pleases. We worried about this at first, that she would not come back, but she at least recognises a steady supply of food and a warm comfy place to rest her head.

I have a feeling that, by the time she goes back home, we will be friends.