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Source: https://barrielawrence.com/feed/

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<title>The Natterjack and the Newt!</title>
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<dc:creator><![CDATA[Barrie]]></dc:creator>
<pubDate>Fri, 28 Mar 2025 21:49:36 +0000</pubDate>
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<description><![CDATA[The Natterjack. The Newt. You might well say that natterjacks and newts are forms of reptile found in the UK and elsewhere, and you would be correct. However, Wendy and I drove to Somerset last weekend, and visited 2 hotels - the Natterjack and the Newt. (Would we move on to the Frog? I jest!). [...]]]></description>
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The Natterjack. The Newt. You might well say that natterjacks and newts are forms of reptile found in the UK and elsewhere, and you would be correct.
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However, Wendy and I drove to Somerset last weekend, and visited 2 hotels – the Natterjack and the Newt. (Would we move on to the Frog? I jest!). In fact, neither were really hotels; the Natterjack was a traditional inn, with rooms for travellers. It was beautifully rural, and walking from our converted barn to the main building for breakfast, we were surrounded with the songs of blackbirds and the clucking of hens. The Newt was so different, and in fact, a complex. 2,000-3,000 acres, with 2 hotels and a third under construction, 2 museums, acres of gardens and orchards, 35 gardeners, a grotto….. Wendy’s niece was married in Frome, and had her reception at the Newt. That’s why we were there.
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We stayed at the Natterjack, and would recommend it to anyone needing a bed (and a great breakfast, and fantastic dinner, and fabulous hosts and team) near the village of Evercreech. The Natterjack – I thought that they must have ‘toad in the hole’ on the menu (the natterjack is a species of toad, just in case you didn’t know!), but steak was irresistible. And delicious. 
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The wedding was in Frome, a beautiful town, that stressed me out of my mind! Apparently it was built for sheep markets, and not for cars. Many roads were about as wide as a sheep, and my wheels juddered against the kerbs. The satnav took us around every narrow lane in the town, but we made the wedding. Next week, the body shop to get the wheels fixed. And then the Newt. Amazing gardens. Amazing grotto.
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Amazing everything. But a vegetarian reception with no alcohol? Great food, great soft drinks, a memorable time, and a bottle of Shiraz back at the Natterjack.
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I enjoy life. I enjoy good food, fine wines and convivial company. Most of my readers know that I am a practising Christian. Born again. Happy clappy, in Daily Mail parlance. So I thank the Lord for an excellent weekend, at a fabulous inn, an interesting hotel complex, and meeting fab people. And now it’s this weekend, with family on Saturday, and on Sunday, the church we host in our sitting room also staying for lunch. 16 booked in so far. I think conversation might include our reptilian weekend.
If you want to read about Somerset, don’t look through my books. But if you want to read about Norfolk, the following are available from Waterstones, Jarrolds and all good book shops.
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<title>What a Wonderful World!</title>
<link>https://barrielawrence.com/my-blog-posts/what-a-wonderful-world/</link>
<dc:creator><![CDATA[Barrie]]></dc:creator>
<pubDate>Mon, 03 Feb 2025 19:25:51 +0000</pubDate>
<category><![CDATA[My Blog]]></category>
<guid isPermaLink="false">https://barrielawrence.com/?p=6682</guid>
<description><![CDATA[I see trees of green Red roses too, I see them bloom For me and you, And I say to myself, What a wonderful world. I see skies of blue And clouds of white, Bright blessed day, The dark sacred night. And I think to myself, What a wonderful world! I love hearing [...]]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[I see trees of green
Red roses too,
I see them bloom
For me and you,
And I say to myself,
What a wonderful world.
 
I see skies of blue
And clouds of white,
Bright blessed day,
The dark sacred night.
And I think to myself,
What a wonderful world!
<img decoding="async" class="aligncenter size-medium wp-image-6688" src="https://barrielawrence.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/02/IMG_4253.jpeg" alt="" width="300" height="225" />
 
I love hearing Louis Armstrong singing these fabulous words, written by George David Weiss and Robert Thiele. And yet, when one looks around, whether high on a pass in Cumbria, as Wendy and I were recently, or sitting at ones computer and watching through the window, a variety of birds swinging on the feeders in front of a mixed hedge of laurel, snowberry, hawthorn, and a fair amount of ivy, under a sky of blue, or blends of rather darkish hues, one realises that there are no words that adequately describe the natural world in which we live.
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I love gazing at snow-capped mountain peaks, whether the Alps, Andes, Pyrenees, or our own beautiful Cumbria. Likewise lakes, rivers, and rural pastoral scenes such as we have in East Anglia. 
And back to the birds on the feeders. Blue tits, coal tits, great tits and long tailed tits are daily entertaining me. They are exquisite in their delicate design, fascinating behaviour, and variety of colour. Pigeons are clumsy and awkward, great spotted woodpeckers are strikingly coloured with their pied colours, and our friendly robins are never far away as I tend to the garden. In other parts of the world one has seen eagles, albatrosses, humming birds, and indeed, all shapes, colours and sizes. Yet, all have the same basic design. Either they have all evolved from a common ancestor, or they were created. I know which seems the more rational and logical to me, whilst respecting the views of those who believe that they themselves are descended from hairy creatures who swing through the trees. Indeed, I once shared those views, until something rather dramatic happened that changed my whole way of thinking. Changed me, and my destiny.
<img decoding="async" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-6689" src="https://barrielawrence.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/02/IMG_4275.jpeg" alt="" width="425" height="319" />
And then there are teeth! Well, I would come to teeth, because once, they were such an intrinsic part of my life. The way they develop from primitive ‘gum’, and the way there are incisors at the front for biting, and molars at the back for chewing. Hard protective enamel develops on the surface, whilst there is continued addition of protective dentine from living tissue inside the tooth. I continue to be amazed. And the rest of the body – self-repairing skin, millions of filters in the kidneys, and capillaries which would stretch from Norfolk to the moon if laid out end to end. And if you want to believe that all this ‘evolved’, you are welcome.
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<item>
<title>When you catch a burglar!</title>
<link>https://barrielawrence.com/my-blog-posts/when-you-catch-a-burglar/</link>
<comments>https://barrielawrence.com/my-blog-posts/when-you-catch-a-burglar/#comments</comments>
<dc:creator><![CDATA[Barrie]]></dc:creator>
<pubDate>Fri, 10 Jan 2025 19:21:23 +0000</pubDate>
<category><![CDATA[My Blog]]></category>
<guid isPermaLink="false">https://barrielawrence.com/?p=6664</guid>
<description><![CDATA[Have you ever caught a burglar, and if you have, what did you do with him? Oops, it’s all equality today, so I must write, ‘What did you do with him - or her? Or them, just in case they are non-binary. I suppose, if you catch such a villain, you probably need to say, [...]]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<img decoding="async" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-6672" src="https://barrielawrence.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/burglar.jpeg" alt="" width="225" height="225" />
Have you ever caught a burglar, and if you have, what did you do with him? Oops, it’s all equality today, so I must write, ‘What did you do with him – or her? Or them, just in case they are non-binary. I suppose, if you catch such a villain, you probably need to say, “Excuse me Burglar, but before I perform a citizen’s arrest, or march you off to the nick, or before you bash me over the head and escape, I need to ask you a question. What is your gender, please?” Seriously, you could catch a burglar, call the burglar ‘him’, and then find yourself in the dock on what seems to be becoming a far more grievous charge, namely that of using a wrong pronoun. But I digress.
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Again I ask, have you ever caught a burglar? Because if you have, you have to decide what to do with them? Of course, it might be that you planned to catch a burglar, and then, if successful, you will have decided in advance just what you will do with them. You might have pre-warned the nick and have them on standby, or you might have decided just what punishment is appropriate. “You have broken into my home, you villain. Now you’re for it. What’s it to be – litter picking in Frettenham for 3 weekends, or a short drive to blue bottle rooms, where they’ll bang you up for a few hours, and give you a nasty reprimand?” The choice is yours, but – what will you do with them?
<img decoding="async" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-6673" src="https://barrielawrence.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/confused.jpeg" alt="" width="207" height="244" />
I caught a burglar by accident. By chance, I suppose. And we were both scared stiff! Both him (or they or it) and me. He/they/it was totally in black – black closely cropped hair, black top, black jeans, black gloves, black trainers – and me? I was as white as a sheet.
I was returning from a convention I had arranged in Norwich. Having rented the Hewitt School for around 5 days, I was in attendance there every day, 8am till 10pm, supervising a team of ushers, caterers, cleaners, etc, looking after the 600 or so attendees. My friend Don Double, an evangelist, held an Easter convention in Norwich annually, and I was co-ordinator. Maybe I could now add ‘burglar catcher’ to my CV, though the apprehension of the villain was not part of the convention. Just related.
“You got me mate”, said the figure in black, crouching and cringing, and trying to hide by squeezing into a gap around 2 inches wide behind a filing cabinet. I was returning from a day at the convention at around 11.30pm, and happened to pass my city practice on Aylsham Road. I was dreading the pile of paperwork that would inevitably be stacked high and waiting for my return, and decided to take a preview. I parked, unlocked the door, walked through the hall and into the office, and….. Help! A burglar!
<img decoding="async" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-6672" src="https://barrielawrence.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/burglar.jpeg" alt="" width="225" height="225" />
“You got me mate”, said the figure in black. Adrenaline was flowing fast as my heart went into overdrive. ‘Try and appear brave’, I told myself. ‘And confident’ (by now, sweating). ‘And in charge’ (knees knocking together).
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‘What are you doing here?” I bellowed, like a sergeant-major with a headache.
The creature winced, and almost cried in anguish, then whimpered, “You got me, mate. You got me,” and looked such a pathetic loser. “I’ll show you how I got in if you like. Help you keep me mates out,” or something like that. “It’s yer toilet window. Not locked. It’s little, but so am I”. He shuffled through to the toilet, and pointed to the small gap with the fresh night air blowing through.
But what do you do when you catch a villain like that? “Just stretch your hands out for me, please, if you don’t mind, sir or madam, while I tie them together with our office string”. Or, “Please sit quietly while I phone PC Plod and ask him to come and take you away”. Or “Please write out your full name and address on one of my dental record cards, and then leave quietly. Expect the police to contact you in due time”.
I took the soft option. “I’ll let you go with a warning this time, but don’t you ever let me find you here again”. I led him to the front door, opened it and stood back, and truthfully, he ran so fast he could have won us a gold in the Olympics.
<img decoding="async" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-6671" src="https://barrielawrence.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/man-running.jpeg" alt="" width="225" height="225" />
A few weeks later, a policeman patient attended for a filling, and I could not resist telling him of my tremendous feat. His response was, “When will he appear in court?”
I felt silly as I said, “I let him go”.
“YOU DID WHAT!” he roared.
<img decoding="async" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-6675" src="https://barrielawrence.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/anger.jpeg" alt="" width="191" height="264" />
Then, seeing the syringe loaded with local anaesthetic in my hand, calmed down and said quietly, “Well, discretion is the better part of valour”, and with resignation, lay back and opened his mouth.
So, when you catch a burglar….
<img decoding="async" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-6676" src="https://barrielawrence.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/question.png" alt="" width="326" height="155" />
A similar account appears in my book, A DENTIST’S STORY by Barrie Lawrence, available at all good book shops, and online at Waterstones, Amazon, and others.
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<slash:comments>2</slash:comments>
</item>
<item>
<title>Joined-up Writing!</title>
<link>https://barrielawrence.com/my-blog-posts/joined-up-writing/</link>
<dc:creator><![CDATA[Barrie]]></dc:creator>
<pubDate>Tue, 26 Nov 2024 20:24:19 +0000</pubDate>
<category><![CDATA[My Blog]]></category>
<guid isPermaLink="false">https://barrielawrence.com/?p=6631</guid>
<description><![CDATA[ “Hey, look at his handwriting”, said a lady, peering over my shoulder. It’s so small and neat, and it’s in straight lines”. Wendy and I were at the annual conference of the Christian Dental Fellowship. We go most years, and meet up with old friends, and usually make one or two new ones. The [...]]]></description>
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<img decoding="async" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-6644" src="https://barrielawrence.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/11/IMG_3821-3.jpeg" alt="" width="283" height="116" />
“Hey, look at his handwriting”, said a lady, peering over my shoulder. It’s so small and neat, and it’s in straight lines”.
Wendy and I were at the annual conference of the Christian Dental Fellowship. We go most years, and meet up with old friends, and usually make one or two new ones. The main speaker amalgamates (sorry!) our Christian faith and our chosen career, dentistry, and gives a presentation that is relevant to both. A number of us are retired, but we will forever be dentists! The fellowship also sponsors several of those who feel called to work abroad in mission hospitals, where the needs of the local people are almost unbelievable. One of those working in Africa showed us a number of slides, including those of tumours of the face, head and neck, which were quite appalling. “Look away now, if you like”, he would say, before showing a slide of a girl with a tumour which was almost identical in size to her head. She had probably walked for 3 days to reach the mission hospital, and the skill and dedication of those working there, in removing tumours and carrying our plastic surgery, is awesome.
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This year, our main speaker had been unable to make it, and a Baptist minister, married to a dentist, had taken the three main speaking sessions. However, I was asked to speak at the opening meeting – “Something light, but relevant to being a Christian dentist”, was the brief. It reminded me of a church leader who was planning a mission evening just south of Norwich, and he asked if I would speak. He explained that there would be well over 100 people there, many of whom had no faith, as far as he knew, and asked me to “Give us 60% funny and 40% spiritual. I understand you can be funny, and I know you are spiritual”. That was a ‘first’.and though the request has not been repeated since, this came close.
<img decoding="async" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-6653" src="https://barrielawrence.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/11/IMG_3824-1.jpeg" alt="" width="425" height="169" />
So I spoke about the patient who fled from my surgery, and having nothing else to do ( and being young and naive and in my first practice), I chased him through the town, until he hid in a woodyard, where I failed to find him. I had not really got time to finish the story, and so told them they would have to buy the relevant book to find out what had happened.
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Then I asked how many people present (well over 100) had actually caught a burglar. No hands went up. “Don’t be shy”, I coaxed, “I’m sure several of you must have caught a burglar or two in your time”. There were still no hands, and so I proceeded to tell them of the time I had caught a burglar in my Norwich practice, at around 11.30pm at night, on my way back from another convention. I had not got time to finish the story, and so told them to buy the book and find out how the story ended.
<img decoding="async" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-6647" src="https://barrielawrence.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/11/IMG_3819-1.jpeg" alt="" width="425" height="167" />
When my first book was published many years ago, I was told by the publisher that the main motivation for people to buy books was ‘author presence’. Well, here I was, present at the conference, and speaking. So maybe it was no surprise that a number of people bought books, and several asked me to sign them. Most of them were dentists, and so I signed them, with the greeting, “To a fellow gnasher-basher’, or ‘From one tooth-sleuth to another’, or ’So, we’re both fang-prangers. Enjoy the book!’, and after a while of signing, settled for ‘Best wishes’.
<img decoding="async" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-6648" src="https://barrielawrence.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/11/IMG_3818-1.jpeg" alt="" width="425" height="198" />
“Hey, look at his handwriting”, said a lady, peering over my shoulder. It’s so small and neat, and it’s in straight lines”. I must confess that that is not always an appropriate description of my handwriting, and if you were to ask the local chemist, who took my prescriptions when I was working, you might get a different story. But I have found that the secret is to go slowly. As soon as I speed up, it gets spidery, and doesn’t stay in a straight line. So I try and go slow, and in my opinion, it is still not very pretty, though there are obviously those who think it is.
<img decoding="async" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-6646" src="https://barrielawrence.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/11/IMG_3820-1.jpeg" alt="" width="425" height="167" />
But I hail from Norfolk, and there is always one story that comes to mind when I consider handwriting. “I never would have thought it, but my daughter has married a man who can do joined-up writing”, said a lady who lived within the catchment area of my city practice. She was clearly impressed, if not overwhelmed. “I always hoped she would marry someone who would look after her, but who would have thought she would have a husband who could do joined-up writing!” And another cause for pride was that he didn’t live in a council house, and so she had a picture of his home hanging on her living-room wall. “Everyone asks what the house is, and I explain that my daughter lives there”. And in my imagination, I could hear her continuing the conversation, “And – he does joined-up writing. Real posh he is!” I love Norfolk.
<img decoding="async" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-6645" src="https://barrielawrence.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/11/IMG_3822-1.jpeg" alt="" width="425" height="153" />
 
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<item>
<title>Harvest!</title>
<link>https://barrielawrence.com/my-blog-posts/harvest/</link>
<dc:creator><![CDATA[Barrie]]></dc:creator>
<pubDate>Fri, 01 Nov 2024 14:36:33 +0000</pubDate>
<category><![CDATA[My Blog]]></category>
<guid isPermaLink="false">https://barrielawrence.com/?p=6620</guid>
<description><![CDATA[Almost every year, there has been barley in the field opposite our home. But times change, and occasionally there has been rape, or potatoes - or even weeds, when farmers were paid to leave the fields untouched for a year or two. Dog walkers enjoyed the space, and were grateful to the EC. Now, maize [...]]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<img decoding="async" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-6627" src="https://barrielawrence.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/11/IMG_3660.jpeg" alt="" width="567" height="425" />
Almost every year, there has been barley in the field opposite our home. But times change, and occasionally there has been rape, or potatoes – or even weeds, when farmers were paid to leave the fields untouched for a year or two. Dog walkers enjoyed the space, and were grateful to the EC.
Now, maize has been thriving in the field opposite our home, and in so many other fields around the county. Is it climate change? Or could it possibly pay better than barley? And when did I last see a field of barley?
<img decoding="async" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-6625" src="https://barrielawrence.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/11/IMG_3662.jpeg" alt="" width="567" height="425" />
It’s probably been the fourth consecutive year we have looked out onto maize. Some people in the village associate it with the alleged increase in spiders, but I would tend to blame climate change, rather than maize, for spiders. It grows to a height of around 8 feet over the course of 4 months. And then we wait for the harvesters. A few years ago, they were busy in September, but not this year. The maize appeared ready, but the farmer knew better than the rest of us. Not September. And we waited, as we enjoy watching harvest. And then, right at the end of October, they arrived. Huge machines. Our home rumbled. The operation was swift and slick. A fleet of trucks speeding away with harvested maize. We had waited for what seemed a long time – and suddenly, it was over.
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Will the world end the same way? Prof Brian Cox believes that one day, everything will disintegrate and vanish into space. Something like that, I think! But I believe the Bible’s prophecies, because firstly, I believe the Bible is the reliable, inerrant word of God, and secondly, because unsurprisingly, it has an amazing track record on such matters. The Bible speaks about Israel’s rôle in the ‘end times’. Written thousands of years ago, some are surprised that Israel is still on the map, and in the same place. All the other ancient nations, such as Moab, Ammon, ancient Egypt, Edom, Assyria, Philistia, Babylon, and many others, have vanished. So did Israel – but they have been gathered back to the land again, as prophesied many times in the Bible, and thrive back in the land God gave them. Bible prophecy says hostile nations will surround them. Bible prophecy says they will be attacked on all sides. Bible prophecy says a nation from the East will wage war against them. Does this sound familiar? And then the end will come, with the deliverance of Israel, the return of Jesus Christ, and the harvest. An eternal global separation of believers and unbelievers, of God’s people and those of this world.
<img decoding="async" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-6628" src="https://barrielawrence.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/11/Bible.png" alt="" width="258" height="195" />
I love rural Norfolk. I love harvest. But more than a Norfolkman, I am first and foremost, by the grace of God, a born-again Christian. The world is in bad shape, thanks to man. But the harvest is coming, and I look forward to all being put right.
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<title>Peace on Earth!</title>
<link>https://barrielawrence.com/my-blog-posts/peace-on-earth/</link>
<dc:creator><![CDATA[Barrie]]></dc:creator>
<pubDate>Fri, 11 Oct 2024 10:59:30 +0000</pubDate>
<category><![CDATA[My Blog]]></category>
<guid isPermaLink="false">https://barrielawrence.com/?p=6603</guid>
<description><![CDATA[ Wendy and I love Dovedale, and have been walking the dales there all our married life. It’s rather different from our home county of Norfolk, where there are attractive riverside walks through relatively flat meadowland. Dovedale, which straddles the river Dove, lies mainly in Derbyshire, but also in Staffordshire, and comprises rounded hills. We [...]]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<img decoding="async" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-6605" src="https://barrielawrence.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/10/IMG_3518.jpeg" alt="" width="425" height="319" /> Wendy and I love Dovedale, and have been walking the dales there all our married life. It’s rather different from our home county of Norfolk, where there are attractive riverside walks through relatively flat meadowland. Dovedale, which straddles the river Dove, lies mainly in Derbyshire, but also in Staffordshire, and comprises rounded hills.We stay at one of two hotels. The Izaak Walton is within spitting distance of the iconic Stepping Stones, whereas Biggin Hall, an old Manor House, is Wendy’s favourite of all hotels. So we usually stay in Biggin Hall! <img decoding="async" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-6615" src="https://barrielawrence.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/10/IMG_3584-1.jpeg" alt="" width="425" height="319" />
We had finished dinner one evening, and were having a glass of red wine in the library before retiring. Across the room from us, three couples sat around a small tables, and the conversation was animated. Well, quite loud really, as they discussed the rights and wrongs of the Middle East conflict, and how they would sort it out. They eventually stood up, pushed their chairs back, and sauntered towards the door. One of them looked in my direction. “Expect you could hear all that. What we want is peace. Peace in the world. Don’t you agree?” I must confess that I’m not often quick to spot opportunities to witness concerning my faith, but on this occasion I heard myself say, “I agree. I want peace in this world, but people love to fight, and there will not be peace in this world until Jesus returns.” Silence! Mr. Put-the-world-right was thinking. Then he looked a little uneasy, and said, “Well, he’d better come back soon then,” and he exited, stage left.
<img decoding="async" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-6607" src="https://barrielawrence.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/10/IMG_3506.jpeg" alt="" width="425" height="319" />Maybe I was less than tactful, but what I said is true. We were spending the week walking through beautiful valleys, beside happily gurgling rivers, often under a blue sky. But, despite the apparent serenity, this world is in deep trouble. Global warming, terrorist threats, the possibility of nuclear confrontation, Middle East conflicts, Russian invasions, crime, divorce, drug addiction… locally, nationally and globally, this world is in very deep trouble. But it was not always so, and I in the Bible (which I seriously believe to be God’s inspired word to us, and therefore true), we read of a perfect creation, marred and spoilt by man’s sin (selfishness, rebelliousness, stubbornness – the Bible calls it sin, and there’s no real synonym for it), and which will one day be perfect again. But, as I told the man in the library, it will not be until Jesus physically returns to this earth. <img decoding="async" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-6613" src="https://barrielawrence.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/10/IMG_3507.jpeg" alt="" width="425" height="319" />I am a dentist (retired) by profession, and for 20 years a bookseller (retired). I continue to be an author, with 8 published books, one of which has been translated into Farsi and published in Iran. I love humour, and have innumerable amusing stories from my days as a dentist. I enthuse over the beauty of this amazing world, where we can ramble and enjoy the wonders of creation. But I am also a Christian, and write concerning my faith in a God who is real and who has changed my life and my destiny. I look forward to the day when all conflicts cease, and there is truly ‘peace on earth’.<img decoding="async" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-6614" src="https://barrielawrence.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/10/IMG_3519.jpeg" alt="" width="425" height="319" />]]></content:encoded>
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<title>Stan and Mand of Squeaky Clean Ltd!</title>
<link>https://barrielawrence.com/my-blog-posts/stan-and-mand-of-squeaky-clean-ltd/</link>
<dc:creator><![CDATA[Barrie]]></dc:creator>
<pubDate>Tue, 30 Jul 2024 14:46:13 +0000</pubDate>
<category><![CDATA[My Blog]]></category>
<guid isPermaLink="false">https://barrielawrence.com/?p=6585</guid>
<description><![CDATA[I had no real problem with those who had cleaned my home and surgeries over the years, but at one point, there seemed to be no one available. My house is not small, and with Wendy and me both working, a cleaner was more than necessary. And so I engaged a contract cleaner. But which? [...]]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[I had no real problem with those who had cleaned my home and surgeries over the years, but at one point, there seemed to be no one available. My house is not small, and with Wendy and me both working, a cleaner was more than necessary. And so I engaged a contract cleaner. But which?<div class="wp-block-image"><figure class="aligncenter size-full"><img decoding="async" width="206" height="148" src="https://barrielawrence.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/07/home.jpeg" alt="" class="wp-image-6587"/></figure></div>Ready Maid Services immediately seemed attractive to me (I can’t think why), as did Meticulous Maids and Maid in Norwich. But the price had to be as attractive as the company name, and I eventually opted for Squeaky Clean Ltd. <div class="wp-block-image"><figure class="aligncenter size-full"><img decoding="async" width="196" height="148" src="https://barrielawrence.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/07/cleaner.jpeg" alt="" class="wp-image-6588"/></figure></div>“I’m Stan. Pleased to meet yer. Now let’s ‘ave a gander at yer premises”, said the proprietor, who clearly came from outside the county. South. London.Stan was short, overweight and sweaty. His light grey suit was a trifle tight, but he seemed to know a thing or two about cleaning houses. <div class="wp-block-image"><figure class="aligncenter size-full"><img decoding="async" width="283" height="519" src="https://barrielawrence.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/07/Stan-1.jpg" alt="" class="wp-image-6590"/></figure></div>“All girls fully trained by yours truly. Good girls, they are, and I keep ‘em on their toes. Spot checks. I just call in and make sure they’re doin’ it proper. We’re the kiddies. Trust me”. Not a professional presentation exactly, but I would reserve judgement. I handed over a house key, and details of our security system.Returning home after their first session, I was more than satisfied with the cleanliness of my home. After a month, I was satisfied that Squeaky Clean had been a good choice.“Bad news,” said my receptionist, entering the surgery at 11am one morning. “Your next patient has just cancelled. Taken ill at work. You’re now free until after lunch”.<div class="wp-block-image"><figure class="aligncenter size-full"><img decoding="async" width="204" height="192" src="https://barrielawrence.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/07/bad-ews.jpeg" alt="" class="wp-image-6591"/></figure></div>There may have been no work in the surgery for the rest of the morning, but there was always paperwork (and computer work) that needed attention. After a quick coffee with my associate dentist, and a quick catch-up with my book shop manager next door, I drove home. Parking on the drive, I felt that all was not well. Two other vehicles were there, a years old Mini, and a rather snazzy red sports car. And the sitting room curtains were drawn.<div class="wp-block-image"><figure class="aligncenter size-full"><img decoding="async" width="381" height="132" src="https://barrielawrence.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/07/red-car.jpeg" alt="" class="wp-image-6593"/></figure></div>The front door was locked, but as I turned the key, the sitting room curtains swished back. I strode through the hall and into the sitting room, where Stan and a young lady were sitting on the mat in front of the grate.“And this is the brush, and this is the shovel, and I’ll show yer ‘ow to clean the fireplace proper,” said Squeaky Clean Stan, red-faced and looking generally uncomfortable. “Just training up a new employee. Shows promise, don’t yer Mandy”.<div class="wp-block-image"><figure class="aligncenter size-full"><img decoding="async" width="274" height="184" src="https://barrielawrence.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/07/mand.jpeg" alt="" class="wp-image-6592"/></figure></div>From where I stood, Mandy was showing more than promise, with her plunging neckline and rather brief miniskirt. Peering out through heavy mascara, she smiled with glistening scarlet lips, and mumbled, “Oi dew moi best, Stan”.“So yer sweeps the ashes up wiv the brush, like, and into the li’’le shovel, like, and then yer tips them into this plastic dustbin bag”. Crouched together on the hearth rug, they both stared intently at the ash. And the brush. And the shovel. Maybe she was a slow learner, and perhaps he paid much attention to detail, but I suspected my arrival had interrupted something rather more intimate than learning to clean a fireplace.“Why were the curtains drawn?” I enquired. There was silence as Stan started thinking.“Cos the sun is bright, and was giving Mandy a headache. Didn’t it, Mand? But it’s not so bright now, and you’re feeling be’’er, aren’t you Mand?”“Yes Stan. Oi feel much be’’er now. Thank yew Stan”.<div class="wp-block-image"><figure class="aligncenter size-full"><img decoding="async" width="191" height="263" src="https://barrielawrence.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/07/duster.png" alt="" class="wp-image-6594"/></figure></div>I explained that I had paperwork to do in my study, and would be at home until after lunch time. Stan handed his trainee a feather duster, with the words, “Go find some cobwebs, Mand,” as he continued brushing, shovelling and bagging ash from the hearth. Around half an hour later, I heard two cars heading up the drive, out through the gate, onto the lane, and away.I completed my paperwork, including a letter to Squeaky Clean, terminating their contract. (An extract from TALES FROM A COUNTRY BOY – A Treasury of Norfolk b y Barrie Lawrence. Available from Jarrolds, Waterstones, Amazon and all good book shops, £12.50.<div class="wp-block-image"><figure class="aligncenter size-full"><img decoding="async" width="396" height="612" src="https://barrielawrence.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/07/TFACB-Front-Cover-Master-copy.jpg" alt="" class="wp-image-6595"/></figure></div>]]></content:encoded>
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<title>A MESSAGE FROM IRAN!</title>
<link>https://barrielawrence.com/my-blog-posts/a-message-from-iran/</link>
<dc:creator><![CDATA[khdev]]></dc:creator>
<pubDate>Thu, 11 Jul 2024 11:14:24 +0000</pubDate>
<category><![CDATA[My Blog]]></category>
<guid isPermaLink="false">https://barrielawrence.com/?p=6571</guid>
<description><![CDATA[What a wonderful, beautiful message from a lady in Iran a month or so ago. She is a dentist who was given a copy of the Farsi translation of one of my books. Here is the message Hello Dear DrI am so glad to see you on Instagram. I got your book in Farsi as [...]]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[What a wonderful, beautiful message from a lady in Iran a month or so ago. She is a dentist who was given a copy of the Farsi translation of one of my books. Here is the message<div class="wp-block-image"><figure class="aligncenter size-full"><img decoding="async" width="320" height="240" src="https://barrielawrence.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/07/IMG_2718-3.jpeg" alt="" class="wp-image-6572"/></figure></div>Hello Dear Dr I am so glad to see you on Instagram. I got your book in Farsi as a present in a recent oral and maxillofacial radiology congress in Iran.I couldn’t put it down until I finished it in few hours! It was fantastic. I could imagine my patients and myself in similar situations. I laughed a lot and I cried when reading the last page!.Thank you! Thank you for sharing your life story with us and wish you and your family all the best.I was truly touched, and rather excited, to realise that the book is selling in Iran, though I had Googled and found it on sites there a couple of years ago. I have two copies, but I’ll never read them. They start at the back! The publishers in Iran also changed the name of the book, to ‘Holey Teeth!’ Most of you reading this blog will be unable to read Farsi (especially if you’re Norfolk like me), but if you would like a copy, it’s available on Amazon and from many book shops, where the title is A DENTIST’S STORY!<div class="wp-block-image"><figure class="aligncenter size-full"><img decoding="async" width="320" height="240" src="https://barrielawrence.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/07/IMG_2719-2.jpeg" alt="" class="wp-image-6573"/></figure></div>]]></content:encoded>
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<title>Mr. Potato! (From TALES FROM A COUNTRY BOY – A Treasury of Norfolk).</title>
<link>https://barrielawrence.com/my-blog-posts/mr-potato-from-tales-from-a-country-boy-a-treasury-of-norfolk/</link>
<dc:creator><![CDATA[Barrie]]></dc:creator>
<pubDate>Thu, 30 May 2024 11:11:01 +0000</pubDate>
<category><![CDATA[My Blog]]></category>
<guid isPermaLink="false">https://barrielawrence.com/?p=6543</guid>
<description><![CDATA[It was the first day of term at the primary school in the village of Wroxham. The form teacher for the year above our class had left at the end of the previous term. Who was the new teacher? What did he, or she, look like? Rumour was rife, and someone had heard that it [...]]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[ <div class="wp-block-image"><figure class="aligncenter size-full"><img decoding="async" width="204" height="192" src="https://barrielawrence.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/Potato.jpeg" alt="" class="wp-image-6545"/></figure></div>It was the first day of term at the primary school in the village of Wroxham. The form teacher for the year above our class had left at the end of the previous term. Who was the new teacher? What did he, or she, look like? Rumour was rife, and someone had heard that it was a man. What was his name, and what would he look like? None of our class had seen him, and we assumed he was with the big children in the class above. But next year, we would be the big children, and he would be our teacher.And then there were excited whispers. Rita had been to the toilet, and Margaret from the class above us was there too. So now the news was out, and indeed, the whispers around our class room were extremely excited. And there was smirking, and suppressed giggling.<div class="wp-block-image"><figure class="aligncenter size-full"><img decoding="async" width="204" height="192" src="https://barrielawrence.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/girl.png" alt="" class="wp-image-6546"/></figure></div>Rita whispered to Sandra, and Sandra whispered to Michael, who whispered to Humbo (no-one was quite sure why he was called Humbo), who sniggered behind his hand, and whispered to Paul. And Paul lent over to me.“Mr. Potato. His name is Mr. Potato. Margaret told Rita in the toilets. Mr. Potato”.<div class="wp-block-image"><figure class="aligncenter size-full"><img decoding="async" width="204" height="192" src="https://barrielawrence.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/Potato-1.jpeg" alt="" class="wp-image-6547"/></figure></div>Everybody wanted to see what Mr. Potato looked like. Maybe a brownish oval face with little or no hair? We were soon to find out. All classes were to finish early that morning, and assemble together in the hall. Sitting tightly together in rows on forms, we realised that there were three new members of staff. Two were men, but which was Mr. Potato?<div class="wp-block-image"><figure class="aligncenter size-full"><img decoding="async" width="206" height="245" src="https://barrielawrence.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/laughing.jpeg" alt="" class="wp-image-6549"/></figure></div> The headmaster, Mr. Mattocks, called for silence, and explained that he wanted to introduce three new members of staff to the school. The little children in class one were to be taught by Mrs. Robinson. She stepped forward. The children in class two would have Mr. Cole as their form master. He stepped forward. And for form four… we waited with barely concealed excitement…. “I would like to introduce Mr. Tate”. There was silence, of course, but I looked enquiringly at Paul, who looked at Humbo, who looked at Michael, who looked at Sandra, who looked at Rita. Rita was staring across at class four, and fixed her eye on Margaret, who grinned widely and stuck her tongue out at her.<div class="wp-block-image"><figure class="aligncenter size-full"><img decoding="async" width="193" height="182" src="https://barrielawrence.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/tongue-oiut.jpeg" alt="" class="wp-image-6548"/></figure></div>]]></content:encoded>
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<title>Thank you!</title>
<link>https://barrielawrence.com/my-blog-posts/thank-you-3/</link>
<dc:creator><![CDATA[Barrie]]></dc:creator>
<pubDate>Thu, 30 May 2024 11:03:18 +0000</pubDate>
<category><![CDATA[My Blog]]></category>
<guid isPermaLink="false">https://barrielawrence.com/?p=6539</guid>
<description><![CDATA[Once again, Thank You to Kris Harris for updating this site, following publication of TALES FROM A COUNTRY BOY! Want a great web designer? - Go to Kris Harris!]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="wp-block-image"><figure class="aligncenter size-full"><img decoding="async" width="187" height="148" src="https://barrielawrence.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/Thank-you.jpeg" alt="" class="wp-image-6540"/></figure></div> Once again, Thank You to Kris Harris for updating this site, following publication of TALES FROM A COUNTRY BOY! Want a great web designer? – Go to Kris Harris!]]></content:encoded>
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