Ten Memories

Dear Chroniclers,

around two years ago, I wrote a short piece entitled, "Captain Fantastic and the Dirt-Kneed Schoolboy", all about my late father. So with a New Year just begun, I thought it might be an appropriate time to capture some precious memories of childhood. There are ten in all ... count 'em as you go!

1. Diving deep into the bathwater with the Captain as a very young child, then swimming up into a plastic wash-basket floating on the surface of the water.

2. The thick nicotine-stained finger-tips of my father, tobacco-brown and smoke-curled.

3. Running free through a field of sun-baked grass in search of leaping grasshoppers, with the Captain close behind.

4. The rich smell of frying bacon as he cooks family breakfast on a Saturday.

5. Sunday's out, and a metal-tray of pub-drinks we consume in the car en route to a picnic. A pint of best for the Captain, a "Cherry B" for the Black Dowager, shandy for eldest brother, two glasses of warm lemonade, one each for electrofried and baby brother ... and soggy crisps for all, with magic blue-bagged salt!

6. The Captain sitting at our breakfast-room table with richly coloured feathers, a line and hook, delicately tying the fly for fishing the next day.

7. A drive down to Bishop Stortford to see the house we never moved into. He died in a lay-by a few months later.

8. Visiting the Captain's offices at the weekend. Inter-coms and slide-rules, a week of smoke sinking deep into the fabric of the place.

9. Big-band jazz played loud on the radio in the car, whilst a strange coloured speedometer thread moves to red as we speed the length of a motorway.

10. Buying fish and chips for a group of visiting Americans, our food smothered in vinegar and wrapped tight in newspaper.

And here's a photo of the man ...







Hope you have a great New Year!

best regards,

electrofried(mr)

Autumn Leaves

Dear Browsers and Browserettes,

it's been somewhat of a "Red Letter" day in the House.

At the end of the week it's my customary practice to pack up a Gladstone-bagged load from the in-tray at the horology factory and work from home.

By starting early morning, sufficient seconds can be captured, bound together and hung up to dry on-line to permit a stolen walk in the Grounds with dear mrs electrofried - accompanied, of course, by the good Hounds.

And that's just what we've done today.

Waiting for the fall

At this time of year, there's something especially poignant about the woods at the far end of the estate. Shortly the leaves will start to turn and everything above us will be flamed and glowing. Every season bears fresh treasure but, as for the House of Electrofried, Autumn will ever be our favourite.

As one might suspect, the years are now clinging to the collective electrofried frames more tightly than a bag of drying seconds in Eudor's horology factory. Accordingly, our journey through life is in so many ways reflected in the Autumnal shades from above - a time of fruit and harvest celebration, with the bite of chill Winter winds still just a little over the horizon.

Thus we hold hands and walk together into the deep heart of the wood.

On the pleasures of hand-holding

Indeed, what greater joy can there be than to take firm hold of the hand of the one you love?

To this day, I still remember that very first occasion I held hands with the dear lady of the House - I can even recall the sweet citrus-note of her teenage daubed perfume. Oh how the memories flood back!

Disappearing figures in the wood

And with that, I will take my leave tonight. A short pasting it may be, but a "Red Letter" day requires no more than a brief fleeting moment of intimacy beneath the bowers of an Autumnal tree. So look deep and long into the picture above and you may just catch sight of two lovers still dancing in time before the Autumn leaves.

yours as ever,

electrofried (mr)