JT Wakes

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JT Wakes last won the day on February 7 2020

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  1. Dear Hearts, Just a short response today…oh yeah, pull the other one, it’s got bells on... (Hang on, why would the likelihood of someone being somewhat economical with the truth result in the recipient of such a communication feel that not only had one of their lower limbs been subject of a yank – not of course receiving attention from one of our brethren across the broad Atlantic. No, not that sort of Yank, more of a jerk. Although thinking about it, which I try not to do but seldom succeed, in the case of the present incumbent of Maison Blanc you can see why the two might be syn
  2. Dear Hearts, How very kind some of you are. At least three kind postings have flooded in and I’m overwhelmed (do we know of anyone, anywhere that has ever been underwhelmed – and what is a whelm anyway?) with the encouragement and warmth of your responses. Perhaps it would help if I nailed my colours more firmly to the mast. Although I should add that I don’t always remember to separate my colours from my delicates (steady!) and whites. Of course this in turn produces some rather patchy dyeing on various garments, but with the added benefit of what would appear,
  3. Dear Fiends - sorry, Friends Well another bright, shiny day in paradise! And Happy Valentines Day! Thank you for all the cards, many of which would make a Bishop blush. Do Bishops blush? Or do they merely glow with a kind of celestial radiance? We need to know these things. Here I am again, looking out over the rain sodden, gale blown vista of Lyme Bay (actually I can’t see it unless I stand up – not something to be attempted lightly at my age – but I know it’s there. Unless the latest amber-warning gusts have swept it away) and tapping away o
  4. Dear Friends (if I may be so bold as to address you thus on such a short acquaintanceship) I feel I owe you an apology. Whilst I began by correctly addressing the rare privilege and unalloyed pleasure of being brought up in Bilborough, I fear I strayed unthinkingly into the unchartered territory of EMEB showroom colleagues, N.E. Glam and FFGS (Forest Fields Grammar School to the uninitiated – and who wouldn’t want to be? – uninitiated I mean). Nevertheless, it would be helpful to know what are my Bilborough boundaries. Am I for instance allowed to stumble inadvert
  5. Hi Margie, Thank you for your kind comments. Where our ages are concerned, and judging from your photo, that makes me 27! I must confess I'm very new to this "posting" but it's driven by a sudden and unusual urge to reminisce about Nottingham. I can't explain or rationalise it, although it I'm sure it has something to do with age creeping stealthily up upon me. No, no, its not creeping stealthily it's bounding toward me with quite unwelcome alacrity, but I'm just about keeping ahead of it. But only just. I have tried one other site - for Forest Fields Gram
  6. FFGS! Ollie Barnet, Mrs. Fosterjohn, "Doris" Day, yes, yes. And all wore gowns! But what about Dr. Roberts? My time was 1955 to 1959 and well remember the roar of helpless laughter when, at the end of term when we were all a little boisterous and each had been given testimonials to present to prospective employers, in a vain effort to get quiet in assembly, Dr. Roberts thundered "Boys found causing trouble in assembly will have their testimonials removed!" A moment's stunned silence followed and then total mayhem as everyone, staff included, b