We have no bread left
Dap up to the bakery
Bring back a sliced loaf
As you probably saw on Facebook, my veteran’s badge arrived today. So this is a thank you email for your effort to apply for and send this to me.
Now of course I have to ask; does this mean that people will start helping me across the road, or perhaps a free ice-cream on a hot summer’s day or perhaps a seat on the bus? Or better yet, DICOUNTS! Ah what fun it is to be a veteran. Makes me feel at least 10 years older.
There must be hundreds of thousands of veterans wandering the streets of Britain. I wonder if it would have been cheaper to give everyone who is not a veteran a badge.
So after all my cynicism, still a big thank you. I shall wear it proudly and tell everyone who asks me what the badge you are wearing is for; I shall tell them stories of El Alamein and bombing raids in the Ruhr Valley in Germany. Not that I was ever there of course, but it should be worth a pint or two – one way or another.
In the USA the one who brings the mail
Is referred to as the mailman even when named Gayle.
Some people find this weird
Mail lady is a term that’s almost never heard
In France they have a different name
To which they do refer
No matter if a guy or gal
It’s always le Facteur
In Germany that soul is known
by a name which is full of labor
for there they call that person
Simply der Brieftraeger
In Italy it’s il Postino, usually a man
But if it were a woman, I would be a fan
In Spain it’s el Cartero
Who brings a greeting-card or bill
and sometimes a love letter
to make a still heart thrill
But no matter who brings it I think we all agree
A letter in our mailbox is what we like to see
So right away, write today a short note to a friend
Or someone who is ill it will help them mend!
At the corner, just up the street,
is a wonderful place for a wonderful treat.
No other country, no other land,
has this treat which you eat by hand.
That’s right! Your fingers get so greasy,
Try it you’ll like it because it’s easy.
Potatoes peeled and cut into sticks,
and when they’re fried we call them chips.
Cod, Halibut or Plaice and sometimes Sole,
as good as soup but, without the bowl.
We’re talking fish, serious fish.
When battered and fried it’s just delish!.
Flaky mouthfuls of fish so white,
tender and tasty at every bite.
And then we add some things thereto,
pepper and salt and malted brew;
to soak up all the fat they say.
But, actually it’s just another way,
to make this treat taste good for me,
whether it be for my lunch or tea.
I heard they throw new stuff into the frier.
Mars Bars? Ugh, you’re such a liar!
No, it’s true an idea that’s new,
Deep fried dessert, a melted goo.
Ah! no such muck will pass my lips;
Not when I’ve got fish and chips.
Written July 10th, 2000.