Poems to make you smile!

Six silly poems written whilst out on a walk….Well you’ve got to have fun haven’t you?


I’m trying to write a book

Oh good grief it’s hard

I wish my name was William

Just like the famous bard!


I’d like to write a poem

I’d like to be a poet

But when I write a rhyme

It doesn’t seem to flow it just carries on and on without getting to the end

If I carry on like this then I’ll just go round the bend!

I like to watch the telly

Whilst sitting on my chair

This makes my bum grow bigger

Oh life just isn’t fair!

I’m going to buy a ticket

I’d really like to win

And if I won a packet

I’d celebrate with gin!

I said I’d stop the drinking

I said I’d give my word

But I can’t give up on Wednesday

Cos that would be absurd!

I said I’d give up working

I did it very well

But now I have no money

Oh bloody bloody hell!

Who would have thought ‘peach’ was so rude?

On our many visits to Turkey we have got to know some of the locals, and one of them is called Emina and amongst us English there is always someone who pronounces it wrong and ends up saying….yes you’ve guessed it….Enema! This, of course, always makes me giggle as I have not graduated into grown up humour and still thoroughly enjoy anything silly, oh, and I adore slapstick.

Anyway, this is Emina…..

Emina about to cook us savoury pancakes…yum!

We have not tried to explain this slight problem we have with her name especially as I have not a clue how I would do it….I simply don’t know enough Turkish to translate:

ENEMA: a solution introduced into the rectum to promote evacuation of faeces or as a means of introducing nutrients, medicinal substances, or opaque material for radiologic examination of the lower intestinal tract. (Medical Online Dictionary)

Now I wish to introduce to you the seftali which is pronounced sheftarlih:

It’s the peaches that I want you to focus on please.

Yes seftali is the Turkish for peach. This picture was taken in the dining room of the villa and the peaches were picked from the trees in the garden. In fact we had so many peaches we really didn’t know what to do with them. We cooked them as many different ways as we could as we seemed to have them for breakfast, lunch and dinner. They are beautiful, yummy, juicy, tasty, absolutely scrumptious and best of all…..FREE! Very different from those hard bullet like peaches you get in the UK. Here’s the peach tree in action…..

The peaches on the ground were knocked there by the local red squirrels!

Anyway, we invited Emina to eat with us one evening and it was then that we found out that saying the word peach in English translates into a rude word in Turkish. Emina erupted into fits of giggles as she mimed what it means as she doesn’t have the English vocabulary to explain:

PIC (Pronounced ‘pitch’) n. bastard, illegitimate child, natural child, bastard slip 
 adj. bastard, illegitimate, baseborn, misbegotten, spurious (Turkish to English Online Translation website)
Can you imagine Emina’s mime??
So every time a Brit goes to ask for a kilo of peaches (which the Turkish hear as ‘pitches’)………Well I know I would have to giggle!
To finish off, here’s a sunset from the balcony of the villa…..

This happens every night!!

That’s about all for now.

See ya


Turkey, Olive and Pomegranite (Wednesday 5th Sept 2012)

So, there we were on holiday in the beautiful villa I have already told you about. We were sitting here……

You have to imagine the food!

….and we were eating bread (ekmek), cheese (peynir), salad (salata) and tomatoes (domates). Hope you like the little Turkish lesson there! Oh and of course….olives (zeytin).

What a wonderful lunch until I forgot that olives have stones in and I crunched down hard upon one. Oh dear oh dear-pound signs flew past my eyes as I spat tooth and filling out into my hand-how much was a nearly whole new tooth going to cost?  I remembered my dentist talking about a crown and very large money numbers accompanying the talk-and here I was in Turkey with a very small amount of tooth left-ERK!

With very little delay we set off for the local coastal town of Fethiye, found a dentist and showed him my problem. Before he had told me the price he was filling a syringe with anaesthetic…can you imagine that sort of speedy service in England? ‘But how much? (Ama kac lira?)’ I cried as he approached swiftly with his needle.

Oh heavens and heavenly was his answer….only £43…for titanium posts and a completely re-built tooth!

Apart from him saying ‘No, don’t talk now’, he just got on with the job and a jolly fine job he did too! (I did feel a bit odd about him basically telling me to shut up, but for £43 I couldn’t complain!)

So within 45 minutes I was on my way back home….Excellent!

Now a bit of Turkish nature photography to finish…..

Another step along the way….

What can I say?

And how about this…..

Hibiscus brightus reddicus!

With his sister….

Hibiscus brightus white-icus!

And that’s about all for now.

See Ya! xx

Dragonfly and a glimpse of my future?

I haven’t been at home much recently as I have been staying with my mother, ‘she who was caught speeding at 81’ as she is sometimes known!  She has a small dog called Rocky who obviously needs walks and so we have spent time in the Buckinghamshire countryside walking by the River Thames. On one particular day there were some workers strimming the river path. They were working about 100 metres apart. The first one offered us some advice as we approached, which was to alert the other worker to our presence otherwise we might have the painful experience of strimmed ankles! Rocky went on the lead as it wouldn’t have been his ankles that were in danger with him being a small dog, and we continued our walk. I began to wonder if I should perhaps jump up and down a little to attract the other worker’s attention. Fortunately this was not necessary and the said gentleman stopped strimming to let us pass. Unfortunately for him just as we passed I spotted a  dragonfly-a beautiful luminescent blue one-and nothing could divert my attention from that dragonfly and obtaining a photo. I managed to get several and here is one:

What a beauty!

I moved further and further into the bushes to get the ultimate shot and it was then that I noticed that the very loud strimming sound had stopped completely. I looked round and saw that the strimmer chappy was waiting for me to finish my photography before he recommenced his work. He had a look of weary irritation on his face and all of a sudden I was reminded of my last blog-‘Orange Tip and Finger Tip’, in which someone was watching me once again in the bushes, camera in hand and a look of triumph on my face as I got that elusive photo.

‘Can’t resist a dragonfly,’ I shouted to him as if this would explain everything, ‘just one more shot!’

He leaned on his strimmer and nodded and I’m not sure if I saw one of his eyebrows raised! But look at this photo:

Strim ye not whilst I take the shot!

Now you may be wondering why I have given this blog the name of ‘Dragonfly and a glimpse of my future’?

Well as my mother and I were walking back, I took this photo of her:

Mother and Rocky

Actually if I look like this when I’m 81 (though perhaps with slightly longer trousers!) I won’t be doing too badly eh?

See Ya x

How I felt about News Books-aged 9. June 14th

Still with the subject of ‘What is in my parent’s loft’, I have a News Book to show today. I have to say first that, as an ex-teacher (HURRAY!), I am convinced that there is very little merit in News Books as a regular activity. However here are the ways in which they are useful:

  • They are brilliant wasters of time if you arrive on a Monday morning and have done little in the way of preparation.
  • Once in a while, perhaps when studying Samuel Pepys, they are a valid educational activity.
  • If you want to know what the parents get up to at the weekend then you can glean much information from the News Books page.

So here are three pages from my October 1970 News Book:



For the record:

  • The Hawtree’s were our neighbours.
  • Keith was my age and he made me nervous.
  • I don’t remember them having a dog!
  • Keith’s mother knocked me off my red and silver raleigh bike in her drive way on a different occasion.
  • It was years later I heard rumours of drink being involved.
  • I really scraped my elbow badly on her wretched drive.

Short and Sweet!

Either we weren’t given much time to write these News Books or my contempt for them was showing at the tender age of 9!


Obviously desperate for material methinks!!

I don’t think I need to say any more!

See Ya xx

The Loft and its’ Contents Again!

I have to say I was very pleased to find something I had written when I was about 8 saying “Elizabeth Turner-Author” But as yet I have not found anything saying “Elizabeth Turner-Poet”…..and yet……Look what I found….

Witness the Emergence of a Poet!


  • I believe I can see the beginning of a sophisticated rhyming style…you know the one where the words that are supposed to rhyme don’t!!
  • I obviously, at a young age, have a full understanding of how the trousers came into my possession from the purchase of the materials to the construction of the garment!
  • I have been taught manners well-ie: to say thank you to the appropriate people in writing.
  • I am obviously impressed with my mother’s dressmaking skills.
  • I realise that money doesn’t grow on trees and that it is my father’s hard graft that has enabled me to get the said trousers.
  • I have a very good idea that I probably annoy my father!

Regarding the last point, if you have read previous posts you may well recall the letter that I had written to myself warning me not to speak to my daddy the next day as he had not been nice to me…I then proceeded to call him “Pig Dad” and then signed (singed) it Elizabeth Turner!

Well who knows what will be found next??

See Ya xx

The Greedy Carpenter(!) 21st May

So I’ve told you about my mother, she of the ‘speeding at 81 years old’ fame, and the continuing story of the loft clearing. I have written about the note that she found that I had written when a young girl talking about some injustice my father had perpetrated, which then led to me writing a note reminding myself to not speak to my father as he had been horrid to me (yes the one that ended ‘pig dad!’). Well, yesterday I looked  through some other old stuff and found a note book upon which it was written ‘PRIVATE, first written in 1971, Elizabeth Turner’. I opened it up and was greeted by a self penned story called The Greedy Carpenter. It was dated 28th October 1971 so I was 10! Here it is:

My first foray into writing?

I would now like to offer my own critique of the 10 years 8 months old me!

  1. I’m not sure if it has a good flow to it but it’s entertaining and the punctuation/handwriting aren’t too bad.
  2. The fairy said he could have one wish a day, but when he asked to be a king (after all the floor was rough and uneven!) the fairy deemed him, and I quote, ‘greedy, selfish and rotten’. Perhaps a little judgemental as he was only asking for his one wish!
  3. I also am not sure if the 10 year old me truly understood the concept of forgiveness-that fairy purported to have forgiven the Greedy Carpenter but then seemed to leave him with a lifetime of unfulfilment….HARSH methinks!
  4. It  finished with the the words ‘Then she flew away.’-which I found slightly abrupt but on reflection I myself can be a little impatient and want things to be finished and finished NOW! So maybe I had written enough for that day.

Oh I forgot to mention that there is a picture on the back of the writing showing the carpenter, obviously unhappily back in carpentry, being ‘Green with envy of other people’! Here it is:

What an artist!

Please feel free to add to your comments on the 10 years and 8 months old me!

See ya xx