Funny Of The Week

I think I’d rather it didn’t taste like Grandma…

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Laughing Along With A Limerick

Here’s your Monday smile – it’s limerick time. Send in your own or here’s a prompt for you –


Here are a few limericks to make you smile this Monday. The prompt last week was SPACE.

Keith Channing:

Space is a place we can see


A virtual anthill

Coming out of a pill

Expands exponentially.

Ruth Blogs Here:

I just love that our garden has space

To grow flowers all over the place

An abundance of things

To enjoy as it brings

A huge smile growing wide to my face.

Christine Mallaband-Brown:

Our client has moved into space

His plans need a rapid pace

To sell fish and chips

On the moon, and space ships

Where we have to supply him with plaice.

Paul Mastaglio:

I’m off to space

No need to track and trace

Going to Mars

To try out their bars

And meet a Martian face to face.

Kim Smyth:

There once was a chap named Musk

Who declared, “Space or bust!”

He launched up his ship

With nary a slip

And tonight we’ll all know who to trust!

Trent’s World:

I watched a rocket launch into space

It left the ground without a trace

It went so high

Above the sky

They obviously wanted to leave this place!

I have a neighbor named Rick

Last week he went and got sick

I took him to task

For not wearing a mask

And giving more space is the trick.

Valarie A Fish:

When my partner said he needed some space

Boy was he stunned by the look on my face

Instead of anger and tears

I gave him three cheers

And even offered to help pack his case.

Sharon Tingle:

I move at a slow pace

In any space.

The slug I am, some hate

As entire plants I’ll devastate.

If only the sprays I could outrace!

The catwalk is my space.

Watch me strut as I showcase

Haute couture and trending wear.

Amidst such fabulous atmosphere

Should I fall, I’d be a disgrace!


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So quiet at the back,

No one can see her.

If she closes her eyes tight,

No one can see her.

The bell rings, lessons done,

Now they can see her.

They wait while she walks past,

Now they can see her.

She runs all the way home,

Still they can see her.

Their feet are coming fast,

Still they can see her.

She can smell their breath now,

So clearly they can see her.

Fists fly out to get her,

So clearly they can see her.

On she goes, through the gate,

Soon they won’t see her.

Key in the door and in,

Soon they won’t see her.

Home early, Dad greets her,

He’ll make sure they don’t see her.

He holds her tight, such love,

He’ll make sure they don’t see her.


inspirational-quote-brave-strong-ENTITY - ENTITY
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Can You Tell A Story In…

It’s Thursday and your new five-word challenge is here. This week, your prompt is SUGAR. So can you tell a story in five words, using the word SUGAR in it somewhere?

Here are your LOST stories from last week:

EDC Writing:

He lost her finding him.


Have you lost the plot?

I lost ‘it’ at 18…

She lost Mum’s antique ring!

Gambled it all… And LOST!!!

Christine Mallaband-Brown:

Lost to Federer! Damn it!

Horse lost its shoe yesterday.

Lost in space with Donald.

We lost the match overwhelmingly!

Lost cat, last seen Friday.

Christmas Post lost in mail.

I lost the plot, slightly…

Ajay Simon Richard:

Lost time never comes back.

Lost memories can come back.

Energy lost: take deep breaths.

Dream again for lost dreams.

Keith Channing:

Anybody seen my lost memory?

Paul Mastaglio:

Where am I? Lost again!

Getting lost is such fun!

I’m just lost for words.

Sharon Tingle:

I lost my red purse.

Lost and Found had it.

Luckily, that’s all I lost.

Yesterday I lost my way.

Write Lindy:

The future is not lost.

It’s not a lost fight.

True friends are never lost.

Redistributed wealth is not lost.

Not lost just new beginnings.

Sarian Lady:

Lives lost at what cost?

Valerie A Fish:

Trump lost; best news ever.

Help, I’ve lost my marbles!

A lost love’s never forgotten.

Has Harry lost his way?

I’m forever lost in thought.


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Daffodils Part Two

For part one, please click here.

But I didn’t know. You were only ten. You were looking forward to going to the big school in the autumn, to being in the school play and travelling on the Inter City up to London with me and your friend for your birthday treat.

You weren’t supposed to get ill. You weren’t supposed to know about suffering and pain. You should have been having fun without a care in the world. Not lying in a hospital bed with wires the whole spectrum of the rainbow hanging out of you.

It was a Saturday when it happened. You and Katie had come home after your gymnastics class. You always gave me a kiss on the cheek, but you didn’t that day. You walked straight past me and up the stairs to your room. Katie must have seen the look on my face because she didn’t follow you.  

‘She’s not feeling right,’ she told me, ‘she couldn’t even do a forward roll this morning. She kept saying her head hurt.’

I knew it was serious. I just didn’t want to believe it. I fetched some lemonade and Jaffa cakes from the larder and put them on your favourite tray, Jenny. The one with the mother and her kitten. Katie took them up to you and I listened to every tread on the stair and the foot, edging your door open.

It was as if I had been waiting for the tray to crash to the floor. I found myself standing in your room as if no time had passed at all. You looked so peaceful lying there on the floor with your long hair framing your face. I looked at you then and I could see that beautiful woman you would one day grow into. But you weren’t going to, were you, Jenny? You were going to be taken away from me. I knew that straight away.

Katie screamed. I had forgotten she was still there. She couldn’t stop screaming and I found myself joining her. The paramedics found us like that, with our arms round one another, rocking back and forth.  I always thought I was strong. I thought I could get through anything. But it’s different with a child. You were my world, Jenny.

It took me a while to understand what the doctors were saying. ‘She’s had a brain haemorrhage…’

But children didn’t have brain haemorrhages, not just like that. The doctor was so kind. He hated telling me that sadly, children did. He told me he had operated, but it didn’t look good. He thought that I should prepare myself for the worst. He said it wouldn’t be long before you slipped away, that it would be for the best as the extent of damage to the brain would be devastating.

Part three next week

300 Motivational Quotes To Inspire You Today
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Funny Of The Week

I think I’ll give those a miss…

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Laughing Along With A Limerick

Here’s your Monday smile – it’s limerick time. Send in your own or here’s a prompt for you –


Here are a few limericks to make you smile this Monday. The prompt last week was TRUST.

Keith Channing:

Trust isn’t given, it’s earned

Regardless of what you have learned

Unless you enthuse

Some credence you’ll lose

Take care, it’s not nice to be spurned.

Christine Mallaband-Brown:

I trust myself to be right

When getting into a fight

Not to be too aggressive

In fact I’m quite passive

and often run off in fright…

Paul Mastaglio:

It’ll be OK

I hear you say

My shoulder’s healing

Getting back that old feeling

Trust me, your book is on its way!

Geoff Le Pard:

Americans say ‘In God We Trust’

Though lately that’s seemed shrouded in dust.

But just by Biden their time

They’ve shown they still give a dime

And Donnie’s flush has been finally bust.


“Trust me,” said old Donald Trump

But election results gave him the hump

“This is all cheating!”

We heard him bleating

As he landed outside with a bump!

Trent’s World:

There once was a guy who would bellow

The ground shook when he said “Hello!”

He might be loud

And awfully proud

But he is a trust worthy fellow.

Terri would act absurd

But you could always trust her word

She would rather die

Than tell a lie

She’s the most honest woman you ever heard.

Valerie A Fish:

In any relationship, there must

Be honesty, respect and trust

His cheating heart

Drove us apart

Now all my dreams have turned to dust.

Sharon Tingle:

I trust that you trust me

To handle your bargaining plea

But the evidence found

Seemed not to clarify but to compound

Alas, the judge did not agree.


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I’m not a creature who is loved the best,

In fact, most say I’m an awful pest,

It’s not my fault, I don’t mean to be,

Nature made me as I am, you see,

I love cats and dogs the most,

You humans aren’t the best hosts,

I like to flip and flap and jump around,

I can’t stand being still on the ground,

I suppose I can’t change your mind,

Though please be gentle to me and kind,

I am who I am, that’s me,

A most fanciful and friendly flea.


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Can You Tell A Story In…

It’s Thursday and your new five-word challenge is here. This week, your prompt is LOST. So can you tell a story in five words, using the word LOST in it somewhere?

Here are your THWARTED stories from last week:

EDC Writing:

Thwart? I’m not having that!


Thwart is a strange word!

“Th’wart is on my foot!”

Christine Mallaband-Brown:

Thwarted! He’s going to lose.

I thought about a thwart,

Don’t thwart my plans Bond!

His cannons thwarted my castle!?

I thwart you said that!

Can we thwart the virus?

Paul Mastaglio:

Thwart or not to thwart?

To thwart best laid plans.

I will thwart your plans.

Jasdeep Kaur:

His smirk was enough to thwart.

Brian didn’t thwart his efforts.

Glee spread thwart the room.

Sharon Tingle:

He shall thwart the enemy.

Rapids ahead. Secure broken thwart.

Superheroes thwart the villain’s escape.

Reinforce the boat’s wooden thwart.


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Daffodils – Part One

I pick a pretty daffodil from the vase on the sideboard. But then they’re all pretty, aren’t they, Jenny? I gently stroke the soft silken surface of the flower and tears stream down my face. Daffodils were always your favourite.

They were just coming into bloom on the day you were born. I was standing outside Mrs Farmer’s house at the time. It had been such a miserable morning with fog, rain, sleet, even some snow; everything apart from sunshine. But Mrs Farmer’s daffodils made everything sunny. And then my waters broke. I forgot all about daffodils after that. But you didn’t, did you, Jenny?

On a bright spring day, we would often take a trip to the park. We’d pass the sea of yellow in Mrs Farmer’s garden along the way.

‘Daffs, daffs,’ you would shout, your chubby arms pointing and a huge grin on your face.

You were always such a sunny child, like your favourite flower. We didn’t have a lot in those days. Your father hadn’t long left us. It turned out he had been seeing Mrs Charlton at number three for the past year. So it was a bit of a struggle for the two of us all on our own. But we survived, didn’t we, Jenny?

You loved the dolls and dresses I made you and poorly panda bear, as you named him. Knitting was never my strong point, but you didn’t care. You loved them all. You always followed me round, doll or panda in one hand and a duster in the other, replenishing the sticky marks I had just wiped away.

But best of all, you loved the big outside. It was such a shame we didn’t have a garden of our own. That’s the thing about flats. So we went out instead, especially to the park. You loved the swings. Swings and looking at everyone’s best blooms bursting with colour. Mrs Farmer’s garden was the best. She used to be on the television, performing miracles with someone’s mud and mayhem of a garden.

When you were a little bit older, you walked to the park. You always stopped outside Mrs Farmer’s house. Your eyes would mist over and I could see you imagining yourself in her garden. Your eyes closed, conjuring up pictures of tiptoeing through the daffodils and glorious greens, stopping every now and then to smell or pick a flower that took your fancy. You would twirl round and round, a princess in her own secret garden.

‘The daffodils have gone,’ you said one day, squinting against the brilliance of the spring sunshine as it merged into early summer.

I smiled and told you tales of the changing seasons. I showed you pictures of roses and we bought an African Violet for the windowsill. You took charge of the watering. But it was always daffodils you wanted.

‘Look at the daffodils, Mum. Look, one’s come out,’ you said, standing outside Mrs Farmer’s the following February. ‘Can I hold it? Can I?’

‘No, don’t be silly, Jenny. It’s Mrs Farmer’s,’ I said, horrified. ‘We can’t just pick daffodils from anyone’s garden.’

‘I’m sure she wouldn’t mind, Mum,’ you looked up at me with those brown eyes, swirling like melting chocolate.

‘No,’ I said, my final word on the matter.

Why didn’t I let you have the daffodil? Would it have hurt to take just one? I would let you have every single one of them if I could exchange them for all the pain you suffered. It’s so easy to look back and wish things had been different.

Part two next week


20 Highly Inspirational Image Quotes
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