Issue 405 18th September 2015

First round of community library groups announced PRESS RELEASE Posted on Monday 14th September 2015 Staffordshire County Council Website Staffordshire County Council has named the applicants set to take over the management and delivery of its community libraries. Eleven contracts have been offered to community bodies, an NHS trust and a church group, while talks are already underway with other organisations in advance of a second phase of applications later this year. Ben Adams, Staffordshire County Council’s Cabinet member Learning and Skills: “The calibre of the applicants was excellent. Not only did they all demonstrate the skills to manage a library, with support from the county council, but they have the ideas and enthusiasm to develop them in such a way that they remain relevant to the communities in which they’re rooted. The strength and content of these bids is exactly what we were hoping for when we began this process.” This step is part of the county council’s long term plan to re-energise its library service after years of declining use. Twenty of the council’s 43 libraries will be managed and staffed by the library service, while 23 will be supported in the commu-nity. Of those 23, 11 will now be transferred to not-for-profit bodies after a period of detailed discussion about the level of sup-port each library will need. Informal discussions are already underway with groups considering applications for the remaining 12 community libraries. Ben Adams said: “It’s clear from the consultations we’ve carried out that people value their libraries as much as the county council does and these changes are designed to find ways of keeping them a vital part of their local community for the next 10, 15, 20 years. The first transfers will take place in the next few months and I think that as other groups see the process in action and what support is on offer from the council, more will come forward.”

The 11 libraries involved in the first round, and the organisations that have successfully bid for them, are: Barton – South Staffordshire and Shropshire NHS Foundation Trust (SSSFT) Baswich – SSSFT Blythe Bridge – The Care and Fun Club Brewood – SSSFT Glascote – SSSFT Heath Hayes – SSSFT Hednesford – SSSFT Holmcroft – SSSFT Norton Canes – SSSFT Rising Brook – Rising Brook Baptist Church Werrington – Werrington Community Voluntary Group.

Rising Brook Library Service to be taken over by Baptists

EDITORIAL COMMENT: The SCC Press Release to say Rising Brook Library is being taken over by Rising Brook Baptist Church provides few details. This take over of service provision, of course, does not mean the voluntary library service will remain in the same building as at present, nor at the same level of opening hours, nor services provided. It makes no mention of free community group space/meeting usage either. It also throws up the issue of secular places of

learning/literature being very different to places providing access to one type of religion. Will non-believers and those of different faiths be welcomed?

Only time will tell. Looks like a done deal ...

2

FLASH FICTION: Random Words: cheering, surprise, detergent,

celebration, frisk, bow-wave, green, professor

Assignment: Off the road

A warm welcome awaits. COME to WORKSHOP ... Every Monday 1.30 start Rising Brook Library

It is really silly to superglue one‘s fingers to the bath tap. It was really scary and very hard to get the stuff off. Next time I am attaching the porcelain HOT cap to the tap I shall wear rubber gloves.

I do hope somewhere Tony Benn is

cheering ...

Facebook find

Stephen Pitt

Stafford Silver Surfers

Curiosity killed the cat and found a tubby old lady

drenched when she wandered too close to the demoli-tion site in Hesketh Road at the exact moment when

the wind caught the huge water jet and

sent the spray arcing over the road and pavement.

www.issuu.com/risingbrookwriters

Random Words: canary, glasses, childhood, evil, doctor, etching, assignment, speak, hollow, constant Mr Lyed wandered across the road towards the young schoolgirl. He had earmarked her as his latest assignment; that being to persuade her to accompany him back to his laboratory, where his evil alter ego, Doctor Heckle could rob her of her childhood and ensure a constant supply of juvenile victims. ―Little girl,‖ he said ―would you like to come to see my etchings?‖ She looked confused.

―What are they?‖ she asked. ―Well why don‘t you come and find out?‖ the man gave a hollow laugh. He intended to pour out two glasses of cordial, and when she wasn‘t looking, slip his secret draught into hers, which would transform her instantly into a canary, to add to his extensive aviary back home. (PMW)

Wind In The Beechwood – Siegfried Sassoon

The glorying forest shakes and swings with glancing Of boughs that dip and strain; young, slanting sprays Beckon and shift like lissom creatures dancing, While the blown beechwood streams with drifting rays. Rooted in steadfast calm, grey stems are seen Like weather-beaten masts; the wood, unfurled, Seems as a ship with crowding sails of green That sweeps across the lonely billowing world. O luminous and lovely! Let your flowers, Your ageless-squadroned wings, your surge and gleam, Drown me in quivering brightness: let me fade In the warm, rustling music of the hours That guard your ancient wisdom, till my dream Moves with the chant and whisper of the glade.

5

Gardening Tips for September ... Frances Hartley

Time goes rattling by, Summer is on the way out and the nights are drawing in a lit-

tle earlier all the time. However, we are getting some very welcome sunny spells

that are ripening the Tomatoes in the Greenhouse and bringing on the plants outside

on the Allotment. The sun is also helping the Gladiola that have had a rough time as

they don’t like too much wet and will rot quite easily in the ground. We have cut

several fantastic spikes of Gladiola flowers already and they are following on

nicely from the Sweet Peas that are starting to go to seed and coming to an end.

Not only do I use flowers around the house, but I also press a lot of the

smaller ones. I have got one of my flower presses nearly full of flow-

ers and leaves and I am hoping for plenty of spikes of Crocosmia as

the flowers press so well and look nice when glued into my Christmas

cards. The blank cards I use are the 3 fold ones with windows in, so

that I can glue the flowers onto the card and it looks like a little picture

showing through a window.

Recently we bought a couple of pots of Dwarfed Chrysanthemums with quite

exotic flowers on. At home, we cut the flowers off which we put in two vases and

then, tipped the remaining plants out of their pots, carefully separated them and was

able to pot 3 nice little plants up from each pot to grow on for next year. We did the

same thing last year with some, so this Spring those had made good “Stools,” with

good roots that could be planted out and they are about 2 ½ to 3ft high now. The

plants are full of flower buds and will give many cut flowers to put in my vases.

When putting cut Chrysanthemum flowers in water you should gently hammer

the ends of the stems, or just split the stem ends, other wise they will not take up

water and so will not last very long. Something else we are trying, came from one

garden centre where we found that they were selling the Dahlia tubers they had left

at half price. We bought some even though they are far too late to do much for this

year. Alan potted them up as we thought if we could get some growth on them this

year and keep them over Winter they could be started early for next year and we

will also try taking some cuttings from this years soft growth. Ever hopeful and

with any luck, we can grow these on enough to get them through the Winter to

make more flowering plants - we like experimenting!

Garden Centres seem very well stocked with Palms. I don’t know whether

they are hoping we will have a mild Winter, or that they think everyone has a large

conservatory, but they do look elegant, especially the one we saw in flower. It had

enormous hanging racemes of bright yellow flowers that put on a fantastic show.

Coming down to earth, Lavender plants should have a good clip now, but don’t cut

into the old wood, or they might not shoot again. The clippings don’t need to be

thrown away as they are good for lavender sachets, or to liven up your dish of Pot-

pouri.

Well, that’s all for now. Cheerio.

Frances Hartley.

STAFFORD

ARTS

FESTIVAL

5th Sept 2015

Assignment : on the road

On the road to ... wherever you may

Where the breaded frozen kippers … play? And your supper comes up like thunder

Covering the pavement all the way. ―There!‖ ‗Pog the writer‘, as he thought of himself, said to the void, ―That piece of

deathless prose should earn me a fortune, or at least supper across at the Burglar Barr.‖

Alas, it was not to be. It got him thrown out and told, ―Do not darken the doorstep again! At least not until you have some filthy lucre to spend.‖

Pog wasn‘t good with Filthy Lucre; she wasn‘t bad as a singer but couldn‘t play a banjo for toffee, and looked for Anna Countant instead. The courtship was

instant. Pog signed all his worldly goods over in a flash, it was a nice flash but needed

a few lamps replacing and some work on the gold paint. They lived happily together, for almost two days, until he was found to have plagiarised the song. Anna left him in a Hough, an upmarket one with red wheels,

and was never seen again, well not until series 2 anyway.

Random Words

The Pontif, they come in boxed sets of four in accordance with the Laws of Nature (copies on demand from LON/deliverset.may) ; but there‘s always one that arrived smashed, picked up

his or maybe her, quite possibly its, fountain pen. Writing this letter was going to be difficult, but, as writing was part of the job description – he/she/it got 4/10 in the exam – it had to be

done. The affray was going to be difficult to describe. The lad had been having a quiet drive on his elephant when a carelessly ridden donkey shot out of a side road. The collision, where the

elephant came off worse, had grounded flying blankets for miles around and catapulted the rid-ers into a nearby shop.

Unfortunately, this had been a cake shop, which had covered nearby itinerant councillors in cake, mainly Battenberg, and forced them to eat their way out.

The council is hurrying through a motion calling for twice-weekly repeat performances.

A villanelle is a nineteen-line poetic form consisting of five tercets followed by a quatrain.

There are two refrains and two repeating rhymes, with the first and third line of the first tercet repeated alternately until the last stanza, which includes both repeated lines. The villanelle is a

fixed verse form and a powerful way to hammer home a message via repetition.

Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,

Because their words had forked no lightning they

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright

Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,

And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight

Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,

Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Refrain 1 (A1)

Line 2 (b)

Refrain 2 (A2)

Line 4 (a)

Line 5 (b)

Refrain 1 (A1)

Line 7 (a)

Line 8 (b)

Refrain 2 (A2)

Line 10 (a)

Line 11 (b)

Refrain 1 (A1)

Line 13 (a)

Line 14 (b)

Refrain 2 (A2)

Line 16 (a)

Line 17 (b)

Refrain 1 (A1)

Refrain 2 (A2)

The villanelle consists of five stanzas of three lines (tercets) followed by a single stanza of four lines (a quat-

rain) for a total of nineteen lines. It is structured by two repeating rhymes and two refrains: the first line of the first stanza serves as the last line of the second and fourth stanzas, and the third line of the first stanza

serves as the last line of the third and fifth stanzas. The rhyme-and-refrain pattern of the villanelle can be schematized as A1bA2 abA1 abA2 abA1 abA2 abA1A2 where letters ("a" and "b") indicate the two rhyme sounds, upper case indicates a refrain ("A"), and superscript numerals (1 and 2) indicate Refrain 1 and Re-

frain 2.

The villanelle pattern is set against "Do not go gentle into that good night" by Dylan Thomas. Method Source: Wikipedia, the poem being used here for nfp educational purposes.

“ALL THAT

JAZZ”

Won the vote and

will be the next

RBW farce.

ALL THAT JAZZ. CAST OF CHARACTERS

Many of these characters are two dimensional as yet: where you have a physical description in mind please write it in some-where so that we all know about it. AND check these notes for updates and send in any updates please.

Hotel staff free for all to use - opening gambits by CMH. Nigel Thomas Bluddschott – Manager part owner of ‗Hotel Bluddschott'. Married to Winifred. Tubby, balding, brown hair,

brown eyes, 34, 5' 7‖ tall. Tenor voice but wobbly and hesitant unless using a prepared script. Not good at thinking on his feet. If something CAN go wrong it WILL. Smuggles brandy, fags and other taxable goods as a part time job.

Winfred Alice Bluddschott (nee Gray) – Manager part owner of ‗Hotel Bluddschott'. Wife of Nigel. Plump more than tubby, brown hair bleached blonde, brown eyes, 35, 5' 6‖ tall. MUCH more capable than hubby with a hard edge to her speech.

CMH.

Sally Gray. - A MYSTERY WOMAN in any case. Don't know (yet) if she's staff, entertainer (torch singer or fan dancer) or

guest. Youngish woman. Tall, hazel eyes, auburn hair, very capable. I have her earmarked as an ex-QA/WRNS/WRAF

officer who has just completed her time & wants to 'get away from it all'. BUT, she could be something entirely different! Norbert Bunbury. Staff, driver and odd job man at the HB. Was Infantryman – possibly W.O.2 (Sgt. Maj.) or higher. I fancy a field promotion, mid 1918, not a Sandhurst man – with a few gongs to his credit. Tall, brown eyes, dark brown hair. Well built.

AT Comic relief characters. You never know! These ladies may, possibly, be descended from those who went with Captain Fowlnett onboard 'The Star'

in 'Packet to India'. They are middle aged, overweight, often slightly 1-over-the-8 and about to be tented! Vera Accrington - Gloria Stanley -

Dorothy Calcutt (their much younger niece) may yet put in an appearance. NP Griggleswade (Griggles). Flyboy. Ex-RAF now working for M.I.5 (or something) as some kind of 'Air Detective'. Ch. Supt. Chorlton-cum-Hardy. Previously Colonel. Griggles superior officer in M.I.5

Mossy. Working with Griggles.

Windle. Working with Griggles. Jones. Aircraft mechanic works for Griggles.

Wilhelm von Eisenbahn, aka Osbert Lessly or 'Big Shorts'. Khaki Shorts leader. Comrade 'Ironside' aka Joseph. Lenin boys leader. Comrade Plotskie aka Leon. Assistant to 'Ironside'.

ACW. Christiana Aggott posing as Lady Arbuthnot Christian. Novelist. Actually married to Col. Beaumont Walsgrave but using

a nom-de-plume for secrecy; & for advertising purposes about her new book, 'The man who shed crocodile tears'. (This neatly gets the requisite reptile into the plot line)

Arbuthnot Aggott or Uncle Arbuthnot. Head of a Security Organisation (Home Office?) Christiana is working for him.

General Arbuthnot Aggott. Christiana's father and brother of Arbuthnott Aggott. Something in the War Office (as the

MoD (Army) was known then) to do with Counter Espionage. Col. Beaumont Walsgrave. Christiana's sorely missed hubby.

Bright Young Things: Ruby Rawlings, Charlotte Ponsonby-Smythe & Katherine Wallasey. Bright Young Things brothers: Everet Rawlings, Eugene Ponsonby-Smythe & Virgil Wallasey.

Communists et al ACW Comrade St. John. Lenin boys Comrade Bunson-Smythe. Lenin boys

Bro.?? Muckleby. Leader of 'The Workers Party' also something to do with Arbuthnot Aggott. Bruder Wilhelm Bergmann. German trades union leader.

Bro. Kevin Harvey. A Workers Party member. (Changed from Hardy) Ernst Graf von Rockenbaker. Sir John Keithly.

Lord John Markham. Sir Martin Wickham.

SMS. Bernard Hot Sax Player Musician Errol Holiday. Band leader and piano player

Jo-Jo. Fan dancer from Red Parrot Club, sister of Errol. Cpt Makepeace — hotel guest Barrington nephew of Makepeace knew Jo-Jo in Paris Lee

Rooster Pearmaine detective — drunkard Balsom Fry valet Cpt Hove-Brighton assistant on trail of missing novelist

H.B. STAFF LIST. Awaiting names/descriptions and free to use. Head Waiter. Head Gardener. Head Chef. (Unnamed but has been used) Geordie pretending to be a French Chef, as they get paid more. No good at accents. Head porter/Concierge. 'Dell boy'. He (probably) knows about the smuggling racket.

Wine Waiter/Sommelier. Sometimes barman. May be on the take from the 'duty free' wine.

CMH Helpful NOTE 1. If you are going to involve Security Forces (police and military) then please note that there was nothing like the MoD, it was FOUR (4) SEPARATE organisations. Admiralty for the Royal Navy. War Office for the Army. Air Ministry for the RAF. The Home Office for the Police. However, Policing was done by County/Borough. The Home Secretary couldn't give orders to the Chief Constable and the Met. was ―Asked to assist‖ if he thought they were required. I would think that Trentby, being a City or Borough would have its own Police force. Just to make things interesting H.M.Customs was – still is - a part of the Treasury. As civil servants, they did NOT have military rank equivalence or titles nor, except for two of the higher grades, dress uniforms. It gets complicated because there was (in 1923) a few organisational 'hold-overs' from earlier times and some officers did get working uniforms issued. Please check before assigning a service to any you may use.

Simon Bligh, assistant patrol leader, tightened his arms against his chest to stop them from strangling the

two rookie campers. Six times that tent had been ready to peg, and six times one of those idiots had knocked over a pole or tripped over a guy and brought the whole thing crashing to earth. Other tents were

springing up like mushrooms all over the field and he was beginning to look more incompetent than a fish trying to climb a tree. He would gladly have consigned them to the sparkling English Channel, but he knew he was being watched. Assessed in fact: if he played his cards right he would be promoted to full patrol

leader at the close of this camp, and what would Jenny Buckle have to say to that? No more looking down her nose, that was for sure.

At the thought of that sweet little nose, he became a little calmer. His thoughts continued, of course, to

her merry dimpled cheeks, and he became calmer still. Her rosebud mouth cheered him up completely and by the time he got to her silky curls he was smiling benevolently at the hapless young hopefuls entangled in

yet another rope. 'Look,' he said as he extricated them, 'we're going to need a fire. I'm assigning to you two the important

task of collecting fuel for it. There's plenty over the hill.' He pointed in the general direction of elsewhere and

the two boys, beaming with pride, set off. 'Gosh,' said Gilbert. 'An important task on our very first camp.'

''Spect he's heard about us,' said Walter. ''Spect he knows how good we are at tracking. We have to look for where the birds are flying. Stands to reason, birds build their nests in trees and where you get trees you get wood for fires. Look, there's a crowd of birds over there.'

'Aren't they seagulls?' asked Gilbert doubtfully. 'Do seagulls count?' 'Course they do,' said Walter. 'Everyone's got to lay eggs – if you're a bird I mean – and so everyone

needs a nest and if you need a nest you need a tree to put it in.' The day was warm. Bess buzzed industriously among the cornflowers and poppies as the scouts trudged

on, but the only tree to be seen was on top the ridge before them, bent like an old man in a thunderstorm.

''Probly be twigs under that,' pronounced Walter. 'That's what you need to start a fire.' 'Thought it was tinder,' said Gilbert' ''Course you need tinder first, stands to reason you need tinder first,' replied Walter scathingly. 'I meant

after the tinder. To get the fire going properly. Not much good just having tinder and nothing else.' 'Race you to the top,' shouted Gilbert, who sometimes resented Walter's methods of clinging to leader-

ship. They scrambled up the hill and fell to their stomachs at its summit, gasping for breath. Before them tall

grass clothed the downward slope until a great swathe of sand opened out.

'Hey,' said Gilbert. 'It's the seaside!' For the first time they realised the joyfulness of their camping destination, a place that, being from the

English Midlands, they had only hitherto read about, a place of limitless freedom and adventure. With whoops of delight they tore down to the beach, removed shoes, peeled off socks, and rushed in to the water. 'Yow!' they squealed as its coldness shocked their warm legs, 'yo!' they yelled as the waves rolled right up to

their shorts. In this fashion they disported for about half an hour, completely unaware they were being watched. At last, exhausted, they sank back in the sunshine to dry off. Then, 'Better be getting back I sup-pose,' said Walter.

Then he saw it. He grabbed Gilbert's arm and his voice came out in a whisper. 'There's a cave!' Gilbert twisted round and his eyes widened. 'Do you think it's a smugglers' cave he breathed.'

'Stands to reason,' opined Walter, 'and they're prob'ly in there right now, havin' a rest before it's dark and time to smuggle a bit more. We'll need to be very careful.' For there was not the slightest doubt in either boy's mind that they would go and peer inside that edifice. 'Follow me,' he mouthed, darting glances to left

and right in a way guaranteed to attract attention. They edged from rock to rock, dropping on their knees when cover demanded it, and eventually came

level with the cave. The watchers narrowed their eyes, but blissfully ignorant, the boys peered round the rock wall. They

strained their ears for a sound, and, hearing none, relaxed a little. Their eyes gradually became accustomed

to the gloom. 'Wow!' whispered Walter.

'Wow,' echoed Gilbert. 'That's some stash!' The watchers tensed. ''Spect they've gone into town to get drunk,' said Walter. 'Smugglers are always getttin' drunk between

smuggling.' They returned their attention to the treasure before them. 'Wait till we take a bit o' this back,' said Walter. Eagerly he moved into the cave with Gilbert close behind.

'And what do you think you are doing?' demanded a voice. (AP)

This is a bee. It‘s doing bee stuff. While it does bee stuff, our foodcrops and pollination is okay.

According to campaigners politicians have bowed to big business and are now once again allowing bee killing insecticide to be sprayed on

our foodcrops ... Campaigners claim this policy is stupid, so stupid, it‘s insane!

Do some research. Discuss. Write a blog ...

Blog opportunity:

Could you write an eco-blog?

Could you raise awareness of

environmental issues?

According to my other half, I‘m turning into a Blogger – whatever that is. But I can‘t be! I still have the same number of fingers and toes (depending on how you count of course), a decided shortage of tattoos, ear-rings and actually write in ENGLISH (sort of).

On Friday (11th), we went to the MET, in the Gatehouse Theatre, to

see PIVA (pronounced Peeva with a short A) who are, amazingly, under-statedly, described as being ‗One of the UK‘s leading early music ensembles‘.

The music that these astoundingly talented folks produced was breath taking and the show an eclectic mix of gentle humour, history and proper music … some teenagers wouldn‘t agree with me about that; because there wasn‘t a guitar, or amplifier in sight and, thankfully, a decided lack of flash-ing lights … you had to listen; instead of having your optic nerves fried and hearing your skull bones grinding together.

Their next show; scheduled for Friday 18th December, is advertised as being a journey back to Tudor times to celebrate Yuletide in true Elizabethan style, I‘m booking tickets!

MAIN TOWN LIBRARY OPENS AT STAFFORDSHIRE PLACE £1m Stafford library offers 3D printing, however, floor space area reduced September 2015

The new £1m library has opened despite 3,000 local people signing a petition against the plans,

which occupy far less floor space than the Market Street site in the Shire Hall. The unwelcomed move to Staffordshire Place will stock more than one million books and include access to 3D printing, however, it seems there are no meeting rooms.

The public and Labour councillors disapproved of the library move, which has been relo-cated from Shire Hall, because it is not in the town centre and is much smaller.

Staffordshire County Council say it could be "used flexibly to meet the changing needs of

local communities". An Innovation Suite features technology for local businesses, community groups, schools

and library members. The public will have access to a 3D printer, and have opportunities to learn how to code and wi-fi access

Cllr Maureen Compton, Labour, reportedly said: ―People are used to the Shire Hall... and

the library being in the centre of town.‖ Ben Adams, Tory cabinet member for learning and skills, said the town needed "flexible

modern library spaces that suit the way people live now, and this is a perfect example". The council launched a consultation into the future of 43 libraries in 2014, and despite

great public opposition decided that 23 branch libraries should be handed over to volunteer

groups. No further information on the number of staff redundancies, seems to have been made public to date, 34 posts will go but some staff will be deployed elsewhere.

The Passionate Shepherd to His Love

By Christopher Marlowe

Come live with me and be my love,

And we will all the pleasures prove,

That Valleys, groves, hills, and fields,

Woods, or steepy mountain yields.

And we will sit upon the Rocks,

Seeing the Shepherds feed their flocks,

By shallow Rivers to whose falls

Melodious birds sing Madrigals.

And I will make thee beds of Roses

And a thousand fragrant posies,

A cap of flowers, and a kirtle

Embroidered all with leaves of Myrtle;

A gown made of the finest wool

Which from our pretty Lambs we pull;

Fair lined slippers for the cold,

With buckles of the purest gold;

A belt of straw and Ivy buds,

With Coral clasps and Amber studs:

And if these pleasures may thee move,

Come live with me, and be my love.

The Shepherds’ Swains shall dance and sing

For thy delight each May-morning:

If these delights thy mind may move,

Then live with me, and be my love.

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Time and

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The 2015

Short Story

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