Tuesday, 30 August 2016

Mr Dropenrot plus Making The Converson by BB

Sitting on the polished wooden shelf high above BB`s typing  desk there is not much that goes on  unnoticed in that room by Mr Dropenrot. His first name being Licec,but he preferes to have it turned around because names are really important and should always be turned around according to his round about way of thinking.So Licec,became Cecil,and crazy as it might seem it did in this case sort of make more sense.

Mr Dropenrot

Now Mr Cecil Dropengot lives safe and quite content in an old Tea Tin upon that shelf alongside tiny bottles of this and that,mostly bought for Mrs B,many a year ago. Miniatures full of highly throat burning contents that would dissolve a liver or indeed a tongue for that inside has well matured along with the constant turning of the sun.                                                                                                          

The day George fell into the glue pot as the story goes,was upon one of those days that BB,was as usual type tapping his penmanship out upon that well worn set of keys,that never ever seem to get an un-clicking rest.As for Mr Dropenrot he kinda likes the tiny cartoons that get a dancing tapping out,for they are music to his favoured fluffed up ears, and along with his face and head he was most thankful at least they had survived._Alas the rest of him did not.                                                           
Now re-homed in Fiddle Wood instead of being part of it going to waste upon the wet ground outside he was happy and most content. Whether it was a dog attack that detached his head from the rest of him i guess we will never know,for he has not uttered one word of explanation upon such an unpleasant miss-adventure as that,but the most important thing is for all concerned in the Beano household is that his head full of bright smiling ideas ,along with  those bold big ears was well saved by Bella,and Mrs B.                                                                                                                                  
It was upon a very harsh cold winters dog walk of a constant plodding ,for dogs like Bella need such a plodding every day in order to get it out and into the plastic bag,and a five mile walk usually           does!                                                                                                                                                           
So it was because of her energetic well sniffing out by  Bella that Mr Dopenrot was found ,and inturn being picked up by a caring Mrs B,was ultimately saved from utter rotting destruction amongst the leaves that had fallen a few weeks before from the swaying ivy clad Sycamore trees. It was also how Cecil got his very important name for he was dropped and got by Bella and Mrs B. So you see names must be earned like wages used to be?                                                                                                    

"Yes very true,i were a saved in the nick of time upon such a terrible day.So here i am and in this case i get to introduce Poor George Jacobs,and how he came to look as if he had fallen into the glue pot. Please do follow along with Fred and MayBell,but don`t get glued up to this spot"

The day dawned for BB,as he yawned his way awake,stretched out his arms, and eyeballed his view after many a trying wide awake blink upon the clocks four o`clock smile upon the AM side of its gentle ticking.                                                                                                                                         

So soon after making Tea with the sounded turning of metal spoon ,and with that perfect whirlpool in each center,two cups were soon just right for their sweet sipping,and it was upon those first sippings that these words sort of fell upon the page.                                                                                                                         

Whether or not this turns out to be a cracker of a story at this early chime of the day i guess only time will get to tell.                                                                                                                                                      
A Friend Helps  Out

"Where are you going Fred,and what on earth is that? "
"Well MayBell,silly you,i thought you would know to be sure what it is?"
"Well Fred,i see its transparent look to be sure,but have not a clue of and idea of what it is."
"It`s a laser cut see-through base for BB`s new figure conversion."                                  


"That`s an awfully good cut out,but what are you going to do with it?"
"Well i`m going to fix weld it laser wise that is to Georges, feet."
"Hang on Fred,i think you should let BB,do that with his glue."
"Well being as he`s busy typing this i thought i`d help out and do it for him."
"O,did ya,i remember last time you laser cut those whoffle sticks for BB,and you cut the table in two."   ___"MayBell,you have always got to bring that up when i want to help in the work."
Well Fed,it`s better i bring it up then you bring us down you on your half and me upon my half of this table."     It was upon this point of fun reply,a stranger to the table began to laugh ,which was a very odd turn of laugh the likes of these two pals had ever heard before.     "Who`s that Fred,making that awful ear piecing sound?" __" Search me MayBell,i guess he sort of arrived like Mr Dropengot  did." "Well that`s Ok,Mrs B,can do no wrong in my eyes,but you Fred are altogether  differant with that high powered thing a me-jig you`ve got."__" MayBell i promise  i will be careful after all i have already made a start by cutting his legs down to size."_ "You what?"    MayBell Horridly shrieked out.   Upon the plastic operating table lay  two pieces of leg. " Well i  overheard Mrs B,saying ,`Those legs need shortning,to make him look like my Dad' and BB,agreed to cut the long fellow down a tinge."             How much is a tinge Fred?"___" Well i sort of guessed it out to be a bit on the small side MayBell."
That ear shattering stranger began to sound out again. "My, My, What a din to make. Ok Fred get to it and get it done." The high powered up blue colored the entire room with such an arch of    light.Zap,Zap Zap! The feet were lasered back on as well as a brand spanking new metal pin now converted into a white walking stick.                                                                                                                                                       

"Splendid job Fred,the feet are pointing in the right direction,now fix him on the base."

ZAAAAAP! The base was quick flashed blue,but although now fixed tight on, the laser setting was  set wrong for that type of plastic and the operating table melted into thin air."Opp`s!" Fred sorry-like sounded out. " That`s Ok,Fred,at least the table top is still a complete one instead of a separated two."
They all began to laugh whitch is the oddest sound a something looking like a Dalek should be able to make,but Fred,was converted into the unit F.R.E.D,and is now much better known in friendly terms as Fred. As for MayBell,well she is of course a MayBell through and through,but not an ordinary one because her name always rings true.

It seemed the little fellow was up and upon his adjusted feet and well fit for walking,but sort of wobbly upon his pins.So Fred and MayBell helped him upon his way,leaving the stranger gob smacked and pointing for some reason to the new LEGO Trees.                                                             

Making  The Conversion             

The aim was to make this cheap figure from China into George Jacobs the blind man.

                                                            Gradually taking shape

                              Work on the upper part before his legs were shortened

The coat and bag were added  during a later dipping of the brush.

The word rang out o`ll George Jacobs had fell in the glue pot 
many a toy believed it

There he is dead center bottom row he stands just under 18mm him being a very short stubby man.

The  entire bottom row all simple conversions from those above using 
wire pins for the arms and glue for the rest. All abstract art using a tiny brush.

Seen above he first appeared in a starring role on Benno`s Figure Forum
  `Daleks and the Bomb',on14 Nov  2013

He was converted by using p v a glue to build him into the shape we knew the man to be. He was based upon my late Father in Law, Mrs B,s Dad who was blind but saw it as no handicap in living life,and many a laugh i had with good o`ll George Jacobs while sitting on the seats in front of the market place in Norwich while Mother and Daughter went holiday shopping in the sun. Upon seeing the tiny model figure of George,Mrs B`s Mother said that it really looked like him especially with his hat, coat and shoulder bag.

                     George is now fixed in permanent place at the Honey Well Railway Station.

      Thank you for your visit and please remember there is more than on way to use glue.

Saturday, 27 August 2016

The Tale of Bird Song, and Hedge Trimming in The Honey Well Garden presented by BB

That day in late July was a good bright one,and it saw me and Mrs B,out in the largest  garden that flanks one entire side of the house. There a raised deck,with three broken steps yearns for special attention,but i am not up to that task yet ,health-wise that is not through laziness,no never that.

Mrs B,was lobbing off in great delight lengths of this and that from our overgrown hedgerow containing some very nasty plants with wicked thorns enough for "Brer Rabbit,"to Say do throw me in." Meaning no way was he up to facing that prickly back combing process needed in order to  get him out of that enormous long area that divided well the garden with its large frog fill pond from the mysterious wood that lay beyond it.

It being a sunny day i sat upon the warm bricks of the Well,and watched  all the activity of a pleasant few hours spent outside. Mrs B,was up and standing upon the small A framed ladder most of the time,cutting away at that Barberis hedge that just had to be reduced two foot or more from the overgrown top. Finally down to eight foot,other clipping back was made especially to the wild dark ivy that grows up and through it from the woods beyond,and which would indeed engulf the entire place if not managed well and held at bay. The most striking features of the Barberis Harlequin bush with its redish-purple leaves marbled with pink and white was certainly a great specimen plant that well needed hacking back.All this activity while from time to time our little friend the red breasted Robin,sang his song while sitting upon the old garden fork handle that  had been shoved deep set into the garden soil not three feet away from where i sat. A pretty sight and sounded delight.

If you look really carefully in the garden near the pond you will see Fred and MayBell!                     
Life is a lot less busy for Fred these days ,because the garden has lots of tiny Frogs leaping about.
So that will help control those nasty munching Slugs.                                                                      

i remember with a bright amusing smile, that the fork in question had broken  many a year before while i tried very hard to dig up the rhizomes of  the Hosta plants above that were very deep rooted.A massive clump of the stuff that took ages to dig out,but had to be divided by hacking and slicing it up with the spade, the last remaining half from that set of expensive gardening tools.
Our garden on the small but tidy overgrown side of wild, has to be dug up here and there sometimes to make growing room for in that case not just the Arum lilies,but new specimens that come our way from time to time.The remains taken out not all destined for the green bin but shared out amongst our friends.
As for the collage of wicked mixed prickly bushes much of it Hawthorn,and Blackthorn that Mrs B,was hacking back,it really was the wrong side of the year for such drastic action but getting on in years requires  taking opportunity of the fine good weather and not waiting for the freezing cold Autumn weather to blast its way in,in its dangerous slippery wetness.
There were however lots of the 48 foot long hedgerow which had flowered and which being sort of  under eight foot high was given a light lower trim with the top left so the birds of which there are many have berries enough to feast upon much later in the year.

We were both amazed to see the Long Tailed Tits fly into the garden. First one then another six or more visited the flowering Buddleia bushes and climbing roses that had grown up and through each other masking quite well the ugliness of the  galvanized wire supports that had been fixed and screwed in tight upon the painted white wall of the house many years before.
As i recall where the black bamboo sways along in fresh delight upon a breezy day,it was just a plain straight up wall 17 to 28 foot high with not one featured window set into it. It to me and Mr`s B,was an architectural blunder and in a grand apex of the house sort of way,and was the very first thing we had to address for drastic action in that triangled wedge shaped garden.

So 18 years a ago now we set to and built a man-sized nine foot high Well,with the roof angled away from that awfully dull flaking white wall ,and topped it with rather rustic cheap hand sawn overlaid wooden shingles. Also along with using many a free brick collected from the woods which had long lain there after fly tipping,some well covered in thick moss,the Well looked rather sweet and thereafter we called it the Honey Well garden. A name that was and still is rather special for Mrs B,for sentimental reasons of the heart. A name i also placed upon the railway station i later modeled in a toy town hobby sort of way.

As for the Long Tailed Tits they all finally flew up one at a time into the large leafed branches of the Hazel Nut Tree that over shadow`s the steps leading up to the wooden deck ,that in turn towers over the low roof of our house extension.They were upon as far as we knew their first visit to the garden,and were probably  fresh fledglings from some high up hidden nest in an ivy clad tree overlooking our activity.  Our activity because with Mrs B, fine balanced high upon the top, there were times i stood upon the bottom rung of the A framed ladder  in order to steady it on awkward bits of the garden.Getting well prickled as the stuff descended in wicked cruel fashion from on high and i in return was a plonking tons of it in the large black bin we`d placed at the far end of the pond.
Being a disabled person for many a year now means i cannot do gardening or much of anything now in the gardens that ring our little space of  Fiddle Wood,but my fifteen stone of misshaped lumpiness ,stood well supporting a ladder does not come that hard for me to do.

 i must try and fix those lower down broken steps one of these days. We call it Fiddle Wood Rot that comes in from the woods where the Honey Fungus thrives in utter decay. BB


Friday, 26 August 2016

BB`s Blog: The Jungle Photograph by Beano Boy

BB`s Blog: The Jungle Photograph by Beano Boy: The Jungle Photograph by Beano Boy                                                                              1 I woul...

Thursday, 25 August 2016

The Boat Trip of 56 __ presented by BB

                                                                The Houseboat

It still sits in its rightful place nestled quietly alongside the river bank even today,and in the long bright summer of 1956 on a forgotten hot day of the week,and month ,it was this houseboat of corrugated iron that first stirred up a little boys wide eyed imagination as if his dead keen interest were in fact a silver spoon stir, for like magic it held up a wide thicket of thatch roof. The first he`d ever seen,and with the silence that comes along with age in fondly looking back he realized then that he knew an awful lot of nothing.
         From the little chug-along boat,he gazed at such a thing and thought it to be a great wonderment,at no mistake,yes indeed. "Mom.i will draw a picture of it when we get home."
( Whether he did,or not,for the life of me i cannot remember for vivid memories of pictures  do not come readily for recall after years and years of hundreds and thousand of them had been drawn.)

However upon that day trip of long ago sitting alongside his dear Mother,and older Brother,soon he had dismissed it from his tiny mind,a thing that did need an awful lot of  filling up with something, as there were unopened rooms a plenty inside it,but facts were taught finger wagging downwards to shallow little lads in those far off days,and in his own wisdom he thought little of them as being important to anyone,least of all to him. So all those rooms stayed shut up and iron bolted as tight as could be.
 i guess being seven he needed the welcomed stimulation of interesting things most foreign to him. For him upon the green of that long winding river while trailing his hands in the water as the small boat headed downstream to Great Yarmouth, it was for certain the first real fun adventure he`d ever had. As if towering waves upon some salty sea ,his greedy ears,swallowed up whole and in double helpings,the great sound of rushing reeds. Both sides of the river were full up with sways of them. Flax comes to mind,and Fresh winds of exhilaration,they were that for sure,and he had never experienced it before,or even heard of such a thing,____let alone that word.                              


                                                    An Afterword or Two

My Mother Grace Liddy Howes, bringing up us two boys on her own,was invited by a friend at work to come on a day trip in her husbands small boat,and of course we my Brother and i,were included in that invitation too.There are vivid parts of that pleasant day out i do recall,but most has been forgotten on the ever shifting sands of time.

The little boat under 30 ft was moored upon the River Wensum, just past the moorings of the yacht   station near the iron bridge leading to the Victorian railway Station in Norwich.

Sadly though the boat that had an engine that smoked its way up river,never made it to Great Yarmouth.So turning around it headed toward Norwich and our home.i cannot remember the name of the lady or her Husband,or Son,but i do recall their kindness to us on that first perfect day.  As the little tired out boat that had chugged along for the best part of 30 miles was being docked at its mooring there was a slight jolt as the front end hit the wooden jetty. We later learnt it had been holed and sank during that night. It lay in the brown green water for ages,but was raised up later ,and was given to the Local Sea Scouts who fixed her up fine and dandy. The little boat served their needs on The Broads for  many a year right up to the early 1970`s.

Sixty One Years on and inspired by Mrs B`s,memories of Mrs Triggles  (Cambridgeshire.) i began to make Hillcreast Cottage where Mr and Mrs Triggles lived. i also began to pen a few unpublished story`s too loosely based upon our shared memories,and my poetic licence.

While doing that and other stuff,while surfing the incoming waves of the www web,i came across this picture of a boathouse on the Broads near Norwich. i being very young at the time  have written of it,but i am not 100% for certain if it is the one i described,but i have a  feeling and a warm one of remembrance that it is the same one with slightly changed surroundings from the Summer of 1956.

                                   My Version of A Thatched Houseboat  Follows
      Scratch built by little o`ll me. Just follow along if  you are pleased to do that.
                                                                All The Pieces Make a Something!

                                                                          It`s Just A Box  


                                                    It  Needs The Corrugated Metal Roof






Doors will open double wide and a Hoist will lift the Boat out of the water and by way of a Overhead Rail will slide the Boat outside for Maintenance.



                                                                     Rolling The Shape


                                                     A Knife Handel Without a Blade!

                                                                       Fixed in Place

                                                                      The River Base      

                                    AIRFIX Figures   Out of The Box for Fresh Air      

                                                 The Water Level is Shown by the Paper

Cutting The Roof Angle

                                Grubby But the Required Look is Getting There

                                                      A Window is Added
                             Once A Great Iron Chain Stretched Out Across The River from This Point

                                                                        Added Strips
And Set Into Base

The Thatching Tool Makes Light Work Copyright BB 

                                       The Hi Tech Tool_____________A Piece Of Card

                                                                      Dip & Tap

                                                                Dip & Tap the Glue

If You Try This And Need Help Ask A Child

A Slight Color Wash To See Stages of The Work And What Needs Doing

                                         White Inside Like in The Picture

                                             The Medieval Flint Wall

Once It was Part of a Massive Fortress the Ruins Converted Into What You See.

            A Little Bit of Work to Do,But  A River Scene Will Shortly Follow

                             Thanks For Taking Time Out To Look             BB