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“Lockdown 2- a message from CTLA

 

We have received the following notification from CTLA

We have received the following information from CTLA:

FOLLOWING GOVERNMENT RESTRICTIONS

FROM

12 MIDNIGHT

ON

WEDNESDAY 4TH NOVEMBER

CTLA WILL NEED TO:

¬SUSPEND ALL DIAL-A-RIDE SERVICES ¬

HOWEVER, WE WILL CONTINUE TO OPERATE:

¬SCHEDULED SERVICES 132, 246, 248-249 ¬

¬OUR ESSENTIAL SHOPPING / PRESCRIPTION COLLECTION SERVICES WILL OPERATE MONDAY TO FRIDAY¬

¬OUR VITAL NEPTS – Non-Emergency Patient Transport Service¬

Give one of our fantastic Customer Service Advisors a call on:

01273 517332

“CTLA are here to help, together we WILL get through this”

Nikki Geering

Transport for Your Community

Hillcrest Community Centre | Hillcrest Road | Newhaven | East Sussex | BN9 9EA

Email: info@ ctla.org.uk

Tel:    01273 517 332
Web:       www.ctla.org.uk

Twitter: @CTLAbuses

Facebook

Poets’ Corner – a Goodbye from me……

The idea of a “Poets’ Corner” came to me as since early April I had been reading mostly humorous poems to a group of elderly ladies that my husband and transport to their Monday tea club and back.  When we went into lockdown, I said to hubby that I could not see these ladies without contact from us, so every Monday I phone all seven of them up, have a chat and read a poem.  This has been so successful some of them “stand by their phones” every Monday wait for  “the call”
I’m going to let you all see some of the poems I have collected – I do not know who all the authors are (it’s certainly not me!) so there will be a few “Anons”!!
MISSING
I’ve hunted near, I’ve hunted far
I even looked inside my car.
I’ve lost my glasses, I’m in need,
To have them now so I can read.
I loudly swear and I curse
Did I leave them in my purse?
Are they behind the sofa, under the bed?
Oh there they are – on my head!
Anon!
I AM NOT OLD
My eyes are fine; they are just printing words small.
I just use a walking stick to seem stately and tall.
Nothing is wrong with my sense of smell.
My ears are fine if you don’t whisper but yell.
The wrinkles are just laugh lines; they will go away.
It is fashion that has turned my hair from black to grey.
It’s the cold, not age that is stiffening my knees.
I like to hum as I walk; it’s not a wheeze.
What extra kilos? My scale is broken down.
If I try, I can still fit into my wedding gown.
My bones don’t creak; my shoes are new.
My memory is sharp. Oh, do I know you?
Anon
DONALD TRUMP’S COVID 19 CURE  (do you remember this??)
At last, we have a cure for all!
Ailments large and ailments small,
Good health is not beyond my reach,
If I inject myself with bleach.
Radiant, I’ll prance along,
Every trace of limescale gone,
With disinfectant as my friend,
Like him,
I’m clean around the bend.
Anon
SENIOR TRYING TO RESET PASSWORD
(Not a poem, but does it ring a bell with any of you??)
Windows:       Please enter your new password
User:               cabbage
Windows:       Sorry, password must be at least 8 characters long
User:               boiledcabbage
Windows:       Sorry, password must contain one numerical character
User:               1 boiled cabbage
Windows:       Sorry, no blank spaces
User:               50damnboiledcabbages
Windows:       Sorry, password must contain at least one upper case character
User:               50DAMNboiledcabbages
Windows:       Sorry, password cannot use more than one upper case character                                    consecutively
User:               50damnBoiledCabbagesShovedUpYourAssifYouDon’t                                              GiveMeAccessNow!
Windows:       Sorry, the password cannot contain punctuation
User:               ReallyPissedOff50DamnBoiledCabbagesShovedUp
                        YourAssIfYouDontGiveMeAccessNow
Windows:       Sorry, that password is already in use……………………
With apologies (or not!) to Facebook!!   
THIS LOCKDOWN
This lock-down is getting old and frankly I’ve had enough.
I’ve discussed the matter over a cup of coffee with the kitchen sink, and we both agree that the experience is draining.
I didn’t mention anything to the washing machine as she puts the wrong spin on everything.
Same with the fridge. He only gives cold comfort.
I asked the lamp but she couldn’t shed any new light on the situation.
The vacuum cleaner was rather rude and told me to suck it up.
The threshold was no better it suggested I get over it.
The carpet advised me to sweep my feelings under the rug.
But the fan was more upbeat and thought that the crisis would soon blow over.
The toilet looked a bit flushed and didn’t offer an opinion.
The wall didn’t say a word either, just gave me a blank stare.
The door knob was more forthcoming – told me to get a firm grip on the situation and move on.
The front door declared I was unhinged and so the curtains told me to…. you guessed it – pull myself together.
Then the chair told me to table it, and the table remarked I didn’t have a leg to stand on.
When I told the table to break a leg, the mirror said that my comment reflected poorly on my thinking.
However, in the end, the iron straightened things out.
She said everything will be fine… no situation is too pressing for long anyway!!
Anon – but does it resonate with any of you?
SOME FOLKS AS COME TO SUSSEX
Some folks as come to Sussex,
They reckons as they know –
A durn sight better what to do
Than simple folks, like me and you,
Could possibly suppose.

But them as comes to Sussex,
They mustn’t push and shove,
For Sussex will be Sussex,
And Sussex won’t be druv!

Mus Wilfred come to Sussex,
Us heaved a stone at he,
Because he reckoned he could teach
Our Sussex fishers how to reach
The fishes in the sea.

But when he dwelt among us,
Us gave un land and luv,
For Sussex will be Sussex,
And Sussex won’t be druv!

All folks as come to Sussex
Must follow Sussex ways –
And when they’ve larned to know us well,
There’s no place else they’ll wish to dwell
In all their blessed days –

There ant no place like Sussex,
Until ye goos above,
For Sussex will be Sussex,
And Sussex won’t be druv.

W Victor Cook 1914

You must all remember this……
DOMINIC CUMMINGS: THE LOCKDOWN TOUR
He’s been locking down in London,
And a bit in Durham, too.
Not to mention Barnard Castle,
Legoland and Bristol Zoo.
He’s been locking down in Stoke-on-Trent
And Weston-super-Mare.
He’s spread himself quite thin of late.
He’s been spreading everywhere.
He’s been locking down in Basildon,
In Derby, Penge and Rome.
Wherever he lays his beanie hat,
That’s his lockdown home.
He’s more spreadable than margarine.
He’s been spreading far and wide.
He’ll be locking down in your town soon:
Spread the word and stay inside.
Anon
HEALTHCARE HEROES
Corona used to be a beer,
They garnished it with limes,
But now it’s filled the world with fear,
These days are scary times.
Cease from travel, cease from flying,
Shops stripped bare by panic buying,
No shaking hands, no social hugs
They’ve even closed the clubs and pubs.
Keep your distance, stay away,
Now’s not the time for simple play,
Stay indoors, self isolate,
More stringent measures, well they await.
But never fear, for we are here,
Your frontline team, a healthcare dream,
With PPE, gown, gloves, face shields,
Onwards we venture, to the battlefield.
Come on you virus, bring it on,
Do your worst, we’ll take you on,
For we have spirit, compassion and love,
We shall destroy you and rise above.
Months, years from now, you’ll be no more,
A mere memory of what passed through our shore,
Carry on we will, the human race,
Supporting each other, our saving grace.
Another by Mr/Mrs/Ms Anon!
AND FINALLY (THANK GOODNESS I HEAR YOU SAY!
George, Who played with a Dangerous Toy
by Hilaire Belloc
And suffered a Catastrophe of considerable Dimensions.
When George’s Grandmamma was told
That George had been as good as Gold,
She Promised in the Afternoon
To buy him and Immense BALLOON.
And
so she did; but when it came It got into the candle flame,
And being of a dangerous sort
Exploded
with a loud report!
The Lights went out! The Windows broke!
The Room was filled with reeking smoke.
And in the darkness shrieks and yells
Were mingled with Electric Bells,
And falling masonry and groans,
And crunching, as of broken bones,
And dreadful shrieks, when, worse Of all,
The House itself began to fall!
It tottered, shuddering to and fro,
Then crashed into the street below-
Which happened to be Savile Row.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
When Help arrived, among the Dead
Were
Cousin Mary,
Little Fred,
The Footmen
(both of them),
The Groom,
The man that cleaned the Billiard-Room,
The Chaplain, and
The Still-Room Maid.
And I am dreadfully afraid
That Monsieur Champignon, the Chef,
Will now be
permanently deaf-
And both his
Aides
are much the same;
While George, who was in part to blame,
Received, you will regret to hear,
A nasty lump
behind the ear.
MORAL
The moral is that little Boys
Should not be given dangerous Toys.

 

Thank you all for partaking in this special “on-line” event our Chair and all the Committee members of Meridian Mature Citizens Forum sincerely hope to see you all once this dreadful disease has run its course.  Please stay safe, keep to the rules – whatever they may be, and stay strong.

Best wishes

Christine Bowman

Membership Secretary

Meridian Mature Citizens Forum

Poets’ Corner – The Finale! (2)

Another ode from our Marilyn – written when she was on the Committee of the SBFI Social Club

AN ODE TO MISCALCULATION

OR

“FORGET-ME-NOT”

When they organise a trip, they always think of me,

Although for some time now I’ve been a member – honorary.

They think of me when organising bowling, shopping too

The committee say “Ask Marilyn” and no one queries “who?”

So off we went to Lakeside, the coach was chock-a-block,

With people, Christmas shopping, for some hankies or a wok.

The coach arrived at 10.00 o’clock; there was a lot to see,

But “a change of plan” the driver said, “be back at 4.30”

I jotted down the coach number before I walked away,

To miss the coach, be left behind, would surely spoil our day.

So on the shuttle bus we climbed, purses at the ready,

Would we buy a video, some records or a teddy?

We spent and looked and spent some more, we ate and had some tea.

We shopped until our feet ached, Paula (my daughter) and me.

The time just ran away with us, it got to five past four,

With Marks & Sparks still calling us, we headed for the door.

We sprinted for the shuttle bus; we saw it moving out,

“There’s another in a minute” we heard the driver shout.

We stood and waited patiently, we knew that time was tight,

But after several minutes, still not a bus in sight.

All the buses came together, queues back to the door,

We clambered on, the bus pulled out; it was twenty five past four!!

The trip went on forever, it seemed more like a tour,

As we pulled into the coach park, Paula yelled “It’s half past four!!”

We fought our way past shoppers, bags flying in the air,

A pensioner went sprawling, but we didn’t really care.

Confidence exuding, we made our way to where,

We knew the coach had left us, to our shock it wasn’t there.

Coaches pulled out round us; I must have looked a clown,

Clutching my piece of paper with the number written down.

Up and down we pounded, the coach we could not find,

Our nightmare was at last confirmed, we had been left behind!

With coaches leaving all the time, whatever could we do,

“Think of something” Paula said, panic was not a word we knew.

It’s strange the things you think of when such tragedies  you meet,

I remembered Derek Wilton from Coronation Street.

A flash of inspiration burst into my head,

Surely someone else’s coach could take us home instead.

We looked along the coaches, where were they headed for?

We found one saying “Brighton” and hammered on the door.

“Please help” cried Paula plaintively, “our coach has been and gone”

“I’d like to help” the driver said, “but I’ve only room for one”.

“We’ll manage fine with just one seat, we really do not mind,

To get us back to Brighton would be so very kind”

A nice young man sat on the floor, so we both could have a seat,

Not many of his kind these days, do you perchance to meet.

And the driver was a nice man too, although an awful tease,

When he announced to all and sundry that we were two refugees!

Via Haywards Heath and Burgess Hill, he kept us in suspense,

But at least we were in Sussex, and our relief immense.

I’m not a churchy person, but I said a prayer or two,

When on looking through the window, St Peters came in view.

The moral of this story is clear and plain to see

For Emma to add up right, keep her off the G and T!!!!!

By Marilyn Nolan – thank you Marilyn for all your great poems!!

Poets’ Corner – The Finale!

Hi all – as well as being Halloween today, it is also officially the last day of the “Ageing Well Festival” for which our Poets’ Corner has been Meridian Mature Citizens Forum’s contribution.

 

As a result, I’m going to post a few poems more than I have been doing, so, sit back and enjoy!

 

The following poem is from our own Marilyn Nolan, written when she worked for The Argus and the Leader newspapers and when her daughter was a papergirl.

 

YET ANOTHER ODE TO AN ARGUS GIRL (to be sung to the tune of “I’m a Pink Toothbrush”

I’m an Argus Girl, you’re a customer and I knock on your front door,

I say £1.02″ you say “that’s for you” and you give me 8p more.

That’s a tip you see, and it does help me, to buy the things that I like the best,

Which are sweets and things, even diamond rings, and in winter a thermal vest.

Every week you hear me knocking

Rat a tat a tat a tat a tat

Your door you start unlocking,

Rat a tat a tat a tat a tat.

I give a smile to you and the Argus too, and you smile right back at me,

And though I bike 5 mile, it makes it all worthwhile

An Argus Girl I love to be.

By Marilyn Nolan

Poets’ Corner – another from Christina Lynn

ROOKERY NOOK

In the spring when birds do sing

And love is flying on the wing

When after days and nights of passion

It’s time for birds a nest to fashion

Where safe, secure her eggs she lays

And mother bird in comfort stays.

Rooks usually build their nests in trees

Which rock and sway in the breeze.

In Wannock, it can blow a gale

Last year’s nest is up for sale!

So this spring they sought a change

And their beady eyes did range

When looking for the ideal spot

They found it in my chimney pot!

For location ’twas just right

No other birds they’d have to fight.

It really had a lovely view

with plenty room just for the two.

When chilly – they’d have central heating

Yes, this place would take some beating!

To build their best they did prepare

And gathered twigs from here and there.

The cat she turned a blind eye

For after all, she could not fly

Easier catches would be found

With birds that fed upon the ground.

 

In September, when the boiler checked

The gas fire flue, their nest had blocked.

A pile of twigs lay in the grate

For chimney sweep I’d have to wait

Before the gas fire I could use

Or fumes might cause my quick demise!

No wire guard to stop their game

Needed “Dobbo”, roofing legend

A few more pounds I’d have to spend

To make my chimney pots bird-proof,

And stop their antics on my roof!

They’ll see this battle I have won

So rooks go back where you belong

To use my chimney pot was wrong!

 

Christina Lynn

Poets’ Corner – just 3 days left…..

Hello again all – I am today posting some more poems by Christina Lynn as we approach Halloween on 31 October, which is the last day of the “Ageing Well Festival”

Christina trained as a music teacher and has given many concerts in Wannock Village Hall – so here goes:

 

PASTIME WITH GOOD COMPANY

When “Lockdown” came we could not meet

For what had been our weekly treat

Rachael, Brian and me, a trio

Bach and Handel played “con brio”

Telemann, Purcell and Loeilett

They’d have to wait another day.

Not sure when we next perform

But we all hoped t’would not be long.

Those concerts done round Wannock Hall

Where we’d welcomed one and all.

Now performing put on hold

When next we play might be too old!

Could Rachael firmly hold her bow

And me the flute have breath to blow?

Brian’s fingers might get stiff

No longer could he play that riff.

For many months we had not played

Then Brian to me a phone call made

Said his room was very big

Three metres distance it would give

‘Cos from my flute I breath expel

Might virus lurk? We could not tell,

But we thought we’d take the chance

Yes this would be safe distance.

We played again – not lost our touch

And we enjoyed it oh so much.

About eleven had a break

In garden coffee to partake.

Frances joined us for a chat

We nattered long ’bout this and that.

And then it’s time to play again

We’re lucky that it has not rained!

Back into the lounge we go

Just time to play, perhaps the Blow?

The morning really has flown by

In ‘pastime with good company’

And we hope it won’t be long

‘Til Ian joins us for a song

And concerts round the Hall we do

Even if ’tis for a few!

By Christina Lynn

Another Favourite “Lockdown” Poem

 

GRANDMA

Grandma’s on the dancefloor
Shaking what she’s got.
If it don’t shake, it wobbles,
And boy, does it wobble a lot.

The old moves don’t come easy
Even though she’s got new hips.
She swings them almost freely now,
And you can barely hear them click.

Grandad’s in the corner,
Sipping on his beer.
Will he shake his booty?
My Grandad – No fear!

Grandma means the world to him,
And he’s her Mr. Right.
He’s the one who’ll walk her home,
The one she’ll kiss goodnight.

My sister just got married,
And the party’s in full sway.
She’s hand in hand with Grandma
Twisting the night away.

Sister pulls Gran closer
To make sure that she’s listening.
Then Grandma stops and shouts aloud
“We’re going to have a Christening.”

Source: https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/grandmas-on-the-dancefloor

Poets’ Corner – a couple of my “Lockdown” Favourites

Hello again everyone!

I think I mentioned that the idea of a “Poets’ Corner” was born out of my finding and reading some amusing poetry to a group of elderly ladies that my husband and I would normally transport every other Monday to their Tea Club in the Lions Club minibus.  When we went into lockdown, I vowed to phone these ladies each Monday to have a chat a read them some poems.   The one below is one of my favourites.

 

BRIGHTON NUDIST BEACH

 

They’re pouring into Brighton

From everywhere I hear

It isn’t for the candy floss

It isn’t for the pier.

They’ve brought their buckets and their spades

They’ve brought their flasks of tea

But they haven’t brought their bathers ‘cos

They’re into NUDITY!!

 

CHORUS

 

Mum’s all bare, Dad’s all bare

The kids are starkers too

Grandad thought he’d have a crafty streak

I didn’t think that he had got the barefaced cheek!

My old girl

Didn’t she look a peach

Wobblin’ down to the water

On Brighton Nudist Beach!

 

The Vicar doesn’t like it

Teacher is upset

Yours disgusted Tunbridge Wells

Has not recovered yet!

The beach has been more crowded since

I don’t remember when

And I hear the price of telescopes

Is going up again!

 

Johnny went out shrimping

With his little net

Up and down the water’s edge

He hadn’t caught one yet.

He pushed his net into the sea

His Dad went pale and limp

Johnny said “I’m sorry Dad

I thought it was a shrimp!”

 

So come on down to Brighton

Come and have a bash

Just down the road from London Town

You’ll be there in a flash.

Swim in the altogether with

The old folk and the nippers

You can stay here for a week

Or just be a day Stripper!

 

Author anon (sorry!)

 

 

 

Poets’ Corner rides again!

The following poem was written by our Committee Member and Treasurer, Marilyn Nolan.  Marilyn had a friend who lived opposite the pond in Seaford……..

 

“WITHOUT PREJUDICE”

 

 

From “Duckhaven”

Blatchington Pond

Sutton Drove

SEAFORD

 

WITHOUT PREJUDICE

 

Dear Sir

We used to be so happy, swimming here and there,

Just like all the other ducks, we didn’t have a care.

 

But now it’s all so different, we can no longer play,

We have to be on guard now twenty-four hours a day.

 

The reason is so obvious;  it’s there for all to see,

They’re up there on the buttress wall, leering down with glee.

 

We hear they call them eagles, but they make our feathers creep,

To us they look like vultures and never seem to sleep.

 

Up there staring, wings outspread, they give us the evil eye,

We’re shaking under our eider down, expecting them to fly.

 

If you’ve put them there to guard you, or protect your “Milliners Rest”,

You need to look no further, our protection is the best.

 

We’ll listen for intruders and watch with beady eyes,

We’ll quack and quack and flap our wings and won’t tell porky pies.

 

We beg of you, dear Christopher, this heartfelt plea we make,

Please cover up those eagles and give us ducks a break.

 

Yours sincerely

Donald, Daisy and the Ducklings.

Many thanks Marilyn!!

Poets’ Corner – on the run down

Good afternoon again – it seems like we’re heading for a pretty unsociable Christmas.  However, I still have some poems to perhaps cheer you up!

The first one is again from Christina Lynn, and relates to the first “Lockdown” in March this year.  Let’s hope it doesn’t get this bad again!!

 

SHOPPING IN LOCKDOWN

 

As we went into “lockdown”

Our shopping it became a problem.

Those with computers shopped on line

If slot was found, it would be fine,

Others used “click and collect”

Great if order was correct!

Many had to go themselves

And often there were empty shelves.

That virus caused a great pandemic,

Not a loo roll could you buy

Though in many shops you try.

Gone were the days when choice you had

No cushioned quilted, t’was too bad!

Though some of us have not forgotten

When all you had to wipe your bottom,

Old timetables pages which you tore

From hook on back of privy door!

Tins of soup and fish and beans

Some grabbed them all by any means.

I hope those greedy people blush

‘Cos weaker ones they shoved and pushed.

And then we had to social distance,

Closer than two metres an offence.

Were told it was for our own good

When far apart, in queues we stood.

As a nation we’ve much practice

Buses, trains, and at Post Office

We’ve obediently stood in line,

And often waited quite a time!

Now one in, one out, it was the rule,

And most of us were sensible,

But when in shop at last we got,

We really felt we’d lost the plot.

Direction arrows like a maze

Left us feeling in a daze!

Up one aisle and down another

Shopping now, you’re in a dither

‘Cos when shopping you’ve a list

So things important you don’t miss.

Just when you thought you’d got the lot

You look at list, one item you’ve forgot

So round the shop you go again

Oh dear me, it is a pain!

Blast! it’s getting very late

Again at checkout you must wait

Then, at last, your shopping done

In the car and head for home.

 

Many thanks Christina!