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Wednesday, 21 November 2018

JACK AND THE BEANSTALK BY FIONA CUMMINGS


Well those of you who email me telling me that you enjoy the variety of my blogs, this one is no exception. But there is one thing that connects this blog, honestly. My fingers typed all the words. And they all come from my head, a very odd place to be, trust me. But that is the only connection. Haha.

 

It’s raining cats and dogs as we say in England. Well, you may say it too wherever you live. The etymology of that saying is said to come from old England, may be 16th century where houses had thatched roofs where animals would lay on and when it rained, it got wet and slippy so the animals would slide off. In the 1651 collection of poems  Olor Iscanus, I hope I have that correct, British poet Henry Vaughan referred to a roof that was secure against cats and dogs in shower. One year later it was written in a Richard Bromeplaywright (It shall rain dogs and polecats) I also read though that after the floods, a poem was written in 1710 by Swift called City showers where by cats and dogs were sadly left to die in the streets. And may be locals described it rained cats and dogs.

 

Or what if in 2018, Fiona Cummings wrote since life began and the rains came down people looked to the sky to see God’s creatures to be known as dogs, as they fell down to them and to follow    would be other creatures to exercise dogs and they would be called cats? Hahaha.

 

Well it’s not a nice day for sure. But it is November, and if we had the warmth from the sun  during this month, I would be very concerned.

 

I’m hoping to get a decent sleep tonight as of late I have not been sleeping. Life is throwing interesting challenges my way exciting ones, and making my normal bad sleep Patten worse, I have been awake until almost 5 am every day for a week at least. So, my normal four hours are now about two but I hope tonight I will sleep. I’m going to take a bath and spray my pillow with lavender. That works a treat.

 For Hub…

 it does get me to sleep but after half an hour I’m wide awake. But tomorrow I’m out at half eight in the morning so need to be alert. And then we have the pub quiz in the evening. Oh heck. God help us. Last week was our worst ever. In fact, I cringed. Normally Hub is the one to suggest we put our paper in the coal fire and watch the flames burn through our shame, but last week I wanted to head for the exit. The winners got 80 out of 90. They cheat though. They are lovely people, but they cheat. I really don’t understand that you know, so you win, and? Where is the pride?

 

 Did I tell you the time before when we went it was so funny? They sat in the middle of the small room. Surrounded by quiet tables concentrating as the tension was building, we were asked a music question. Well suddenly a song bursts out from their table. It was quickly stopped, but it was the group singing that we were asked about. And in front of everyone, one of them had an iPad my friend says they come with one every week and don’t even try to hide it. It’s shocking. There are five of them though, times on average 3 beers each, so, 15 pints of beer is a lot of money for the tiny pub.

 

It’s funny as I give my answers to our friend who writes them down, Hub always goes mad with me as he says I sound so convincing. Well I am, why else would I give the answers? I know I’m right….

Well, sometimes.

Like two out of 25! But I always get the anagrams. And they are worth 10 points. So at least I contribute 16 out of the humiliating 36 that we normally end up getting. But last week we broke the record. Oh yes, we broke something. And it wasn’t the creaky old seats we sit on either, but I tell you, one day Fifi will find herself on the deck as those seats are out of the ark. They’re on their last legs for sure. You should hear the sounds they make. It’s like an old ship on a wreck. So, we broke the record of being our worst week. Haha, but so what, it’s a good night out.

 

Well I have to say of late I have been surprised by some people. The cheek of them. And yesterday was no exception. Some friends are getting together in December. One of our friends can’t be there as she has to work. But she sent everyone a text asking if one of us could put up a plate of food from the hosts home for her supper that night? Oh my, hahaha. The host replied she would. I wouldn’t have the nerve to do that, would you? Another friend came to me last week and told me she asked our mutual pal to get her a specific Christmas gift. Cheeky I thought. But when she told me what it was, I was disgusted by her. So, this other friend isn’t rich, but our friend asked her knowing she is so soft and will never refuse anyone, she told her she wanted this gift and to buy will cost our friend £57. Wow, I asked my friend who had been asked to buy this expensive gift, how much she intended spending on our friend who asked for this gift, and she replied about £15. I went back to our other cheeky friend and said you shouldn’t have asked for such a gift especially knowing that her husband has just lost his job. She replied, well it’s something I wanted and she didn’t mind. I said. I think you should tell her something like you were joking, and ask for something if you have to ask, something worth a quarter of that amount of money. She replied no, she will have bought it now. I replied no she hasn’t because she has no money. She said well this thing she can pay for over the year. I then asked her what was she buying for our friend? And after she answered, I can tell you she is no longer my friend.

 

Her answer was a scarf someone bought her last year for Christmas and she hated it. She laughed and said Fiona, who would wear such a scarf? I said you expect our friend to wear it? She replied no, but at least I have bought her something.

 

I was furious. I really told her off and told her she was no friend of mine. Now, she is still friends with our mutual friend, there isn’t anything I can do about that, but I really just came away not understanding people again. They say what goes around comes around, and I really hope it will with her. You are not supposed to wish bad on people, but sorry, I do.

 

My left foot has gone numb. My Waggatail is laying on it. Wouldn’t you think it would be uncomfortable for her? I can feel her heart beating through the top of my foot. She worked well today. I met a friend to give her a birthday card.  She has only done the route once but did good. I was anxious, but if I got into trouble my friend would have come for me. I asked her to keep her mobile on. It’s not a nice walk as the path is really old so it’s up and down. Then there are drives into people’s gardens that are so flat and where they are placed, the road is at one with the path which is the same as the drive so no edge to follow, if you don’t concentrate, you could either go onto the road or up someone’s drive.

 

My Wagga is a very sociable dog and does like to go to front doors to hope to meet people haha.

 

My Son told me the other day that we have a tree growing at the side of our house. The bit of land we just put slate down and didn’t plant up. The bit where our neighbours plonked all of their bathrooms on, remember? Well, where has the tree come from? I told him it would shamefully be a weed. No Mum he said. It’s a fully-grown tree. haha. where is Jack? maybe it is a beanstalk! Do you know of that story? Jack and the beanstalk. I loved that story when I was a child.

Once upon a time there lived a Widow and her Son Jack, on their small farm in the country.

Every day Jack would help his Mother with the chores. Milking the cow, weeding the garden and chopping the wood.

They had no money to keep themselves warm and fed, The Mother said to Jack we must sell our old cow Bess to have enough money to plant seeds for the next crop. So, Jack agreed to go to market and sell old Bess. On his way to market with harness in hand attached was Bess, Jack came across a little old man who greeted him by using his name. Jack didn’t understand how the man knew his name. Jack told the little old man where he was going, the old man said he was a good lad for helping his Mum. The man looked around to see who was watching knowing no one was, he opened his hand to reveal a hand full of beans. (Not baked) smile.

The man handed three beans for the old cow. They were magical beans. He was told to plant them and watch what would happen.

 

Jack got home showed his Mum the beans. She cried saying silly boy three useless beans for our cow? Jack was so upset seeing his Mum cry he ran to his room in the attic. He threw his beans out of the window. Well Jack went to bed. Next morning, he woke up to realise his room was not as light as normal. He ran to his window to see where he threw the beans, had grown a huge beanstalk right up to the sky it grew.

 

Jack got dressed and using the leaves and vines like a ladder, jack climbed as high as he could. Right to the sky, when he got to the top, he noticed a path which lead him to a castle in the clouds.  Jack ran to the castle the door of it opened to reveal a horrid old lady of a giant with one eye right in the middle of her head. Jack ran away to climb back down but the giant caught him saying you must be hungry, come back it’s been a long time since I got chance to make breakfast for a boy.

 

The lady turned out to be OK. As Jack ate through a huge chunk of cheese and drank his milk, he heard a thump thump. The whole castle started to shake as someone started to come closer. The old lady said oh no that is my Husband, he likes nothing better than a boy on toast. Quick come this way. She put Jack into a huge copper pot on the stove as her Husband came in. The giant man said I’m so hungry I could eat three cows. Oh, what is that I smell.

“Fee-fi-fo-fum. I smell the blood of an Englishman. Be he alive or be he dead. Isle have his bones to grind my bread””

Jack started to climb out of the pot. The lady said no get in as he will sleep after his breakfast. Just then as Jack was about to go back into the pot, he saw the giant coming into the kitchen with a basket full of golden eggs and a white sickly-looking hen. Well a golden girl is written about with a   harp and more poetic words than what I have summarised, but Jack took the golden girl shaped like a harp, the eggs and the sickly hen and climbed down the stalk. The giant was seconds behind him. As Jack was about to get to the bottom, his Mother came running with an axe and she was too much in shock to do anything so Jack put his golden gifts and white hen down and cut the stalk down. The giant fell and broke his crown. The golden harp girl said she would sit in his farmhouse window and sing to the birds and butterflies in the sunshine. It didn’t take Jack long to get the hen well, who laid a golden egg every day. Jack got enough money to buy back old Bess and have enough money to buy seeds for the next year’s crops.

 

He even had enough money left to fix his mother’s farm and invite all his neighbours for a meal and entertainment was provided by the singing harp. (What a boy)

And so, Jack, his Mother, old Bess, the hen and the golden harp lived happily ever after. Isn’t that the best? If you read the book to your children, then it’s obviously much better. I remember when I was a child, being on the edge of my seat with excitement. Even back then I ached, for the hen and cow. That is why the ending appealed to me.

 The end…

 

 

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