Good Housekeeping
I
I’m sometimes asked why I do not share posts too widely on social media platforms.
Well, it’s all down to what one might call good housekeeping, and also not upsetting the applecart, and then getting a few metaphorical days in the slammer.
The Dispatches have been discontinued, although they are still available on the main website.
One particular group of dispatches relating to the war in Europe, I most definitely leave those away from social media. Again, they can be easily followed, if so desired.
II
I do not like living my life dependent upon the number of “likes”, “hearts”, “weeps” and so forth, that articles might attract unless they are entirely unsought, and unsolicited.
III
There’s also the question of eyesight. Only upon return to an article do we suddenly spot that a chunk is missing, or that spell-check has had a field day, or that my fingers do not dance to the mind-boggling speeds that Qwerty and I could do a few years back. Talk about Last Tango in paris!. They hadn’t got a look in!! Haha! God! Could we tango!!
This affects all age-groups. Purchasing a candle-lighter today, the delightful lady’s spectacles needed the aid of the magnifying glass to read the small print before we completed the transaction. I laughed, saying that I was relieved to find I’m not the only one who has the magnifyng glass to hand. God! I feel like some idiotic old sleuth!
Oh no! Not at all.
Actually, I’ve got contacts in as well
behind my spectacles,
so we really are having a ball aren’t we!
We both burst out laughing!!
I love the Bath Road on Leckhampton where I used to live before fourteen wonderful, and at times, hair-raising years in Liverpool, because Bath Road is just like St John’s Road Waterloo, Liverpool. And whenever I’m back in Liverpool, it is the Copper kettle I always make a beeline for.
IV
Please don’t think I’m being rude when I do not add names to articles on social media. SM is, to be honest, a cold fish to me. It reminds me of my former days when - wait for it - I walked the beat as a constable in the 1970s.
In those days, we had very set routines. We did not flinch in approaching trouble. Nor did we poke our nose in when people were having fun. Our very presence symbolised societal peace and good order. I’m not quite so sure that holds so true today, but i hope it does.
And it was never long before people, of all ages, would be popping up to have a chat. Some would perambulate a while, summoning up the courage, others would cycle up and only at the last moment realise it was wet and their brakes were not too good.
One such…
Oh, I’m so sorry Constable.
Hang on, dear. Can I help you up? I’m so sorry.
Did you get his number?
He deliberately aimed for your helmet in the gutter.
Shall I write a letter to the chief constable to explain why your helmet is now as flat as a pancake?
No, no, that’s fine. I think you’d better get some new brake blocks, though!
Oh, those wonderful helmets.
Wonderful memories.
Thank goodness it’s still upstairs safely stored and now back to its full shape again.
And, no I didn’t get the ruddy number plate! Hahaha!
17 May 2023
All Rights Reserved
© 2023 Kenneth Thomas Webb
Ken Webb is a writer and proofreader. His website, kennwebb.com, showcases his work as a writer, blogger and podcaster, resting on his successive careers as a police officer, progressing to a junior lawyer in succession and trusts as a Fellow of the Institute of Legal Executives, a retired officer with the Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve, and latterly, for three years, the owner and editor of two lifestyle magazines in Liverpool.
He also just handed over a successful two year chairmanship in Gloucestershire with Cheltenham Regency Probus.
Pandemic aside, he spends his time equally between his city, Liverpool, and the county of his birth, Gloucestershire.
In this fast-paced present age, proof-reading is essential. And this skill also occasionally leads to copy-editing writers’ manuscripts for submission to publishers and also student and post graduate dissertations.
