Villlage Lots

April 12, 2017 4:33pm Published by Jules Smith in Whimsy On A Wednesday 29 Comments


Satirical Snapshots Bringing You Whimsy On A Wednesday.


Village life

I’ve never known a village like the one my mother lives in.

Those of you who frequent this blog may have read about the things that go on there like the annual rubber duck race, playing Sticky 13’s in the pub and all manner of complete and utter madness.

I have contemplated living there on many an occasion because not only is it beautiful but it’s a black comedy reality. All I’d have to do is write an everyday journal and I’d have a script that the best writer in the world couldn’t make up. However, I value my sanity; what’s left of it.


What do you do with a spaceman?

Park your car in it, man.

Police were called out to the village recently when the residents awoke to find an upside down motor conveniently parked right in front of the bus stop.

car in village

Owner? Nowhere to be found.

Anybody find this abnormal? Not really.

Will the registered keeper ever be seen again? Chances are he or she will be at the pub quiz later trying to win a packet of malted milk biscuits from Lidl that are still a week in date. They come from far and wide for such delights.

Talking of delights…


The Village sale

People in the village and surrounding area are well aware of their personal treasures; and, when there’s not enough coinage in the coffers for a night at the pub, they sell their swag to each other.


One man’s junk is another man’s treasure

I’m slightly alarmed by this if I’m honest.  I find it somewhat sinister.   Remember, I’ve met these villagers.

And then there’s the interior design sales pitch from the village witch…


There’s dry wit and there’s village idiocy.  I’m not sure which category this person falls into…

Next they’ll be trying to sell magic beans.

Taking of beans…


Beanz Meanz Heinz

There’s a baked beans cafe opened up in Selfridges, London.  I’m rather impressed at this smart yet simple take on our classic British staple.  This Heinz station have taken beans to a gastronomic, amuse-bouche high where you can now have them sprinkled with scrambled eggs, ham hock, or crispy bacon.  Take a look:

So maybe it’s not just villages that are bonkers after all.  Maybe it’s just this country.





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One of the great gastronomical contributions (unappreciated) that the British have made is beans on toast. Thus, I find the opening of a bean cafe to be in line with the cited achievement.

If you wrote a book about your mother’s neighbors and life at her pub, it would not be believed. Better to caste it as “FICTION”.

Just looking at those Heinz beans pots is making me salivate. What’s not to like about baked beans? I’m going to make up my own pot at home now I’ve seen theirs. Maybe you could do that too, Larry. Competition time!

You’re right. The whole place beggars belief.

I had a bowl of black bean soup as an appetizer for dinner tonight. It was good. The black beans were cooked perfectly with some sweet Anaheim peppers and then they put those fried crispy onion things on top of it. Genius!

Total genius!

Tonight I am going to make a bean surprise of some sort. 🙂

Don’t know why, but whenever you comment on the goings-on in your mother’s village, I always find myself thinking of Dibley.

Yes, Masher. Crossed with The League of Gentlemen. Nuff said.

I’ll buy the axe!

I’ll go halves with you! 😉

Dibley bears remarkable resemblance to our mad but beautiful village. Jules you fit in soooo well. I’m looking for a house for you!!!

Hmmm… make sure it has a drawbridge and a moat. And a fire extinguisher for the torches.

That sounds like rather a come-down from Molly’s Lodge. Unless it’s been sold already…stick with the dream a little longer.Stranger things have happened. Easter is a time of miracles. Chin up,princess.;-)

I know, it is! Molly’s Lodge is most likely sold. I missed the boat on that one, Sol. I might get and Easter egg which will be miracle enough! 🙂

Do you know any village witches, Jules? I’d like to start a new religion based on witch-worship. I’d send her fresh fruit and vegetables in return for casting spells. But I wouldn’t send her beans – no one respects a witch who farts!

Now you know that I have a coven in every town, Mr. Gorilla Bananas. I am keeper of the witches. Send all the fruit to me such as limes with tequila and oranges with vodka etcetera… I’ll see to it that you get a spell cast at every full moon. Farting is good for witches; it makes them fly faster!

We’ve just bought a compost bin off preloved for £5. How much are they asking for the axe? Also how are we going to share ownership of it? I’m happy for Monday to Wednesday afternoon, then after that it’s yours for a crazy long weekend.

I think that sounds perfect, Theresa. You chop the vegetables and I’ll chop off heads. 🙂

Off with their heads! I always said you were the Queen of hearts ?

And I’ve always said you were so in tune with me! ;P

That chair – it’s just what I’ve been searching for! If they’ve got 2 for £25 we’ll call it a deal!
– x ?

I’ll ask at the village pub. With any luck they’ll be pissed and you could snag it for a pint! 🙂

The best bit about Sticky 13s, for me, is SPARTACUS. But I’m no expert. Village parking? Top result, imagine the SWAT turnout in Hill County…

But….I AM SPARTACUS! Heh! Best bit indeed, LSP unless you win fifty glorious pounds. However, you must go to church for that to happen.
Village parking at its finest. Yeah, coppers in TX wouldn’t cope with that!

Hi Jules. The Shakespeare quote at the top is first rate. 🙂 (Stolen for this week’s funny Friday edition)

Here in the colonies we call these events “yard sales” and they occur most every Saturday morning usually at a firehouse or school parking lot. Think of it as recycling one’s crap from their garage to some else’s. It must be a worldwide phenomenon or maybe just in English speaking countries. Often it ends up where “I’ll buy your worthless crap if you buy my worthless crap” but sometimes treasure can be found. Remember, one man’s trash is another’s treasure. 🙂

Hardnox, you are welcome to steal whatever you want from here.

I need to go to a yard sale. We have car boot sales here too. Everyone drives to a massive field on a Sunday morning and tries to sell their tat. I did one once and sold a COMPLETED crossword puzzle book. That’s all you need to know… 🙂

In Martin McDonagh’s The Beauty Queen of Leenane, someone offers the daughter money for her fireplace poker. The one she used to beat her mother to death. She said she can’t part with it because it has ‘sentimental value.’ Ha.

Ha! I like that, M. How beautifully sinister. Village people don’t care about sentiment though. They’d rather have a few jars of ale. 🙂

the Bard burn

i want to live in a village. a real village. Carmel doesn’t count.

yes, yes, everything, the lunatic lumberjack hatchet, the Quidditch thing, the blue vagina, the Game of Thrones throne, all of it, point and click, add it to my Amazon drone, it has to look authentic.

don’t let anyone ever tell you there isn’t magic in this world. there are magic beans out there, they make you toot.


But Carmel looks beautiful! If I lived in Carmel I’d drink caramel latte with caramel swirls and wear camel coloured clothes to match my golden hair.

I think we should trade all those things for sale for two magic beans. You plant one that end and I’ll plant one this end and see who get a beanstalk first! Maybe that duck lives there! *)

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