Sunday Scribblings - A Winter's Tale

This is a true tale about winter. Well, an almost true tale, but I have added extra bits here and there otherwise it would be pretty boring!

When I was small, well not very small, but smaller than I am now, my mum’s church used to send us children to visit the old people in the village just before Christmas - people like my friend Keith!

We used to make cards at Sunday School and wrap up bars of chocolate and things. I remember one old lady; her name was Lady Dorothy Battersby-Smythe. (Actually it was old Dottie Smith and that was the first of my ideas to make the tale more interesting!). Well, I went into her drawing room and we sat in front of a roaring log fire crackling away in an inglenook fireplace (my nose is growing! To be honest is was an ancient electric fire in her kitchen)

She told me that when she was a girl Santa Claus used to come down her chimney on Christmas Eve when she was asleep. I told her that he came to me too, but she said that one year something unusual happened.

While I think about, what do you think about Father Christmas? I worked out for myself at a very young age that there wasn’t such a person as this jolly old man with a beard and a beer belly wearing a red frock. I mean, all that talk about Santa’s little helpers making toys in a workshop was nonsense. He didn’t make the Barbie doll which I got one year any more than he is busy knocking out Wii machines right now, I think Nintendo would have something to say if he was. But I always had a sneaking feeling that there was some strange force popping little bits and pieces into my stocking after my Dad had crept in with some presents from the shop. I never said anything; I hid them under my bed. Now just suppose there is someone or something out there that we adults don’t know about and kids keep to themselves?

Now, back to the Winter’s Tale. On second thoughts I don’t think I’ll carry on. As I said it was a bit boring and I don’t really like lying to make it more interesting. If it was a piece of fiction like Harry Potter, then making things up is okay, but mine was a true story. So I think I’ll stop here.


it snowed today

It snowed today
hip hip hooray!
I built a snowman,
rode my sleigh

I made some snow
into a ball.
Lobbed it ‘cross
the garden wall

It hit someone!
To my relief
the guy I hit
was my friend Keith

When he turned
it’s me he saw
“That’s it” he said
“It’s snowball war”

Then he chased me
‘cross the grass
Slipped on ice
fell on his... bottom

laughed my socks off


I was very grateful

I’m doing Sunday Scribblings again this week I’ve got to write about the word Grateful.

I won an award once. I did – really! And I was soooooo grateful because I didn’t really deserve it. It was a runner up award. Not even that really, because I came last! I always call it my constipation award because it makes people laugh! It was actually a consolation award.

I was so grateful that when I went to bed that night I had a dream about it. I dreamt I was in a big restaurant. I was wearing a tight sexy red dress and a pair of sparkly sneakers with high heels! There were lots of people there going jaw-jaw-jaw about things I didn’t understand, but as there was lots of chardonnay I was very happy.

Then suddenly some bright lights shone on me. Everyone was staring and although I could see them clapping I couldn’t hear them. I realised I was listening to my iPod, so I took the ear things out and suddenly I could hear cheering. (Just a reminder, in case you’ve forgotten it was a dream) And then a voice called out ‘and the award goes to Rosemary Pinkerton’. It was great! I looked around and there was a lady beckoning me to go up onto a stage. I went up, and she presented me with a teapot made of chocolate. She said I had to make a speech.

Well, I seem to remember thanking my mum and dad for having me, my friends for being friends with me and all sorts of things like that. Then suddenly lots of tiny fairies appeared above everyone and scattered glitter everywhere. Everyone started hugging each other. It was lovely.

And then we all walked outside. The moon was smiling, and in the morning the sun was beaming.That’s when I woke up.

So that is my story about being grateful. Was it all right?


She who last laughs longest laughs laugh - or something like that.

I saw something in the paper today which really pleased me because it proves I am really trendy, not the fuddy duddy Keith makes me out to be! I am officially a YAPPY! A Young Age Pensioner. It says here that the 20 to 30s who used to spend their cash in swanky bars and restaurants are now more likely to head off to a knitting club. When I told my friends what knitting clubs are called they laughed, but here it is in black and white ‘stitch and bitch clubs’
Look here – it says wartime fashions such as tweed and wooley pullies are big news and old fashioned comfort foods are flying off the shelves. Me me me!

And that’s not all. I am about to get my own allotment. I’ve had to wait for someone to die because there is quite a list and luckily someone has. It’s not lucky for him of course, in fact it’s a bit sad, but at least I’ve got my little plot of rented ground. Now I can grow flowers and grow vegetables and have a shed. And according to this paper allotments are high fashion too. Loads of under 40s are queuing for them it says here.
Slippers are in, hot water bottles, Pyrex and making jam. All my favourite things, and I got there first. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it!


The stranger

This is my piece for Sunday Scribblings

I once met a stranger
Dressed like lone ranger
A cowboy hat on his head.

A gun in his hand
He looked mighty grand
Howdee young partner he said

Over the hill
Came a stranger sight still
An Indian brave clad in red

I thought that I might
Get caught up in a fight
So I turned on my heels and I fled!

Embarrasing predicaments

This is my piece for Writers Island

I seem to get in one embarrassing predicament after another. My friends always tell me that I should think before I speak. Well, I do. It’s just that sometimes what I think and what I say are different. And things happen to me that just don’t happen to other people. Fortunately I can laugh at myself. If I got worried or upset every time I got in an embarrassing predicament I would have a very miserable time indeed!

If you read Keiths Ramblings you’ll know that he takes the Mickey out of me all the time. I don’t mind, in fact I quite enjoy the fame! In the last year he has told you about the time I knocked a display of priceless orchids over, the time I broke some poor chap’s ribs when I was practicing a recovery technique at first aid classes, and when I got the giggles when I saw a big red spot on the end of a girls nose. I still laugh when I think about the time I threw some tin cans on my bonfire which exploded and sprayed next doors house with soup and peas! And the time I covered everyone in chicken curry at a restaurant was too funny for words.

At the time things usually seem terrible. It’s only when I read Keiths account of them that I see the funny side. The worst one was when I was riding my bicycle and I had to swerve to avoid an elderly lady. That simple act set off a train of events which were so alarming that if you didn’t know me it would read like a piece of pure fiction. But everything Keith said actually happened! I’ll try a link thing incase you want to read about it. CLICK HERE. That should do it.

Thank you for reading my piece this week. See you again next Friday xx


I won't give this a title or it will spoil the surprise

You won’t believe this, but Madam Two-swords (that’s not how you spell it, but it will have to do), the place with all those wax models of famous people, has a new model. I took the day off yesterday to see it being unveiled because it’s of one of my favourite celebrities! Guess who it is? Well, it’s life size but very small. I think they said it’s five and a half inches or centimetres tall, I’m not sure which. And it is so lifelike. Give up? Then I’ll tell you. It’s Tinkerbell!

There was a little girl dressed as a fairy there posing for pictures. Amy her name was and she was six years old. I would love to been asked to do it, she was such a lucky girl.
Also on the same day Disney started selling the DVD of Tinkerbell, and I joined a queue to buy one. What I’ve decided to do is invite Keith and the others around to my place for a pretend premier. I’ve got an old red rug that I can use as a red carpet up to my door. I’ll put on my plastic wings, and we’ll eat fairy cakes and drink champagne – I’m sure Daddy will come up with some for me.

It will be great. I’ll let you know how it goes.



(This is my first go at Sunday Scribblings. It’s only Thursday but Keith at Keith’s Ramblings say it will be alright. He’ll probably try to be clever and write a poem or something, but I’m doing it my way. I'm writing about CHANGE)

I save my loose change, all those little coins that hide away in the corner of my purse. Little bronze pennies and tiny silver fives. Actually I don’t always save them. Now and again someone rattles a collecting tin under my nose and I pop some in there.
But the ones I save really add up. I had fifteen pounds worth the other day. I saved them in a tin which I took to the bank. The woman behind the counter was a little grumpy with me. She told me I had to add them up for her and put them in little plastic packets. When I think how much money my Dad gives the bank, you’d think they’d do it for me.

Anyway, I took my tin home again, and a handful of packets, and set about sorting them out. It took me hours. Trouble was the piles were quite high, especially the ones with a hundred pennies, and a couple of times my cats knocked them over! But in the end I managed it and off I went to the bank again.

I hoped I’d see someone different. There were six of them peering out from behind their glass screens. But wouldn’t you know it. ‘Cashier number five’ a voice said, and once again I found myself facing Miss Starched Knickers. One by one she put them on some scales like the man on the fruit barrow in the market only she was weighing a different type of pounds. Sadly several didn’t weigh the right amount. I said they were old coins and they were a bit worn but she was having none of it. She even pulled out a few Euro type coins. I said that they should be ok, because we are part of Europe but she was having none of it. But in the end we got there, and I had fifteen pounds which I spent on two bottles of chardonnay and something we girls need which I’m not discussing here.

I can’t believe I written a whole piece. Keith said I’d never manage it. Well that showed you mate didn’t it.


clickity clack

I really enjoy knitting. I think I’m quite good at it now I’ve had more practice. I was wondering what to give my friends for Christmas then I suddenly went ‘Ah’ because I had a great idea. I am going to knit everybody covers for their cell phones. What do you think about that? If you speak to Keith PLEASE don’t say anything.

I’ve just finished a really pretty scarf. It took me a while. I’m giving it to my mother. I took a picture so that I could show you. Bye bye.

Oh I meant to say something else to you. I don't like the name of my blog. Thingy is silly but it was Keiths idea and dispite what he pretends, he is not always right. I prefer Rosey's POSEY. I like small bunches of flowers so I think it suits me. He says I can't change the handle whatever that is. I assume he means the code you have to type at the top of the screen. Well that stays the same and I don't care what he says, from now it's Roseys Posey



The other day I heard someone on the radio who said he had read all 16 volumes of the Oxford English Dictionary. He said that by doing so he had actually read every book ever written in the modern English language. I have to admit I didn’t really understand what he meant, but I thought I’d remember it for the next time I need to say something profound.

I do that quite a lot. I hear things I don’t get, but they sound good so I save them. Jokes too. I can’t be the only person who has trouble understanding what people are laughing at. But I try to memorise them, then tell them to my friends and they laugh. I laugh too and I know I get away with it most of the time, but not every time as Keith delights in telling you.

As I was saying, this bloke with the dictionary gave me an idea. I love words. I bet that surprised you. I really do, so I thought I’d have a go at reading the dictionary. I used to use a lot of long words when I was a kid and my friends used to say I swallowed the dictionary. I assured them I hadn’t, I mean it would be a bit difficult wouldn’t it, unless it was printed on that edible paper. Someone gave me some panties made of that stuff once. I didn’t fancy eating them though.

So I got my pocket dictionary and started reading. It was so boring. I got as far as D though. I noticed some odd things along the way, like abbreviated is a very long word and dyslexic is a hard one to spell which seems a bit unfair. What if a dyslexic person had to fill in a job application and needed to mention his problem? He wouldn’t be able to spell it.

The reason I’m telling you all this is because the other day we all met for a pub quiz and I was the star of the show. I think Keith will be praising me in his next post, so I won’t say any more! Cheerio new friends.