Bromford and …..-Toad - Part 1

 

»What the fuzz, dude?«

»Toads, llama, they are toads.«

»Creepy toads, dude. But nice suit. Nice suit and nice tie. Nice west? Nice shirt?«

»Are you giving me, compliments, animal? Why? What do you want?«

»Why? I don't want anything. And no, dude, I just like your shirt.«

»Iron like a lion in Zion.«

»Strange words, dude, and strange companions today.«

»But smoothly ironed shirts. And always be sure to keep a toad in your wallet. Keeping toads in wallets and purses brings luck and wealth.«

»Whatever floats your boat, dude. Do your thing. We’ll keep the kettle humming and the ghost train running until you’re back.«

And the Bromford asks himself what doing his thing and who THEY might be…

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Today is Saturday, the 28th of June 2025.

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 367 & Part 368

 

Today is Tuesday, the 24th of June 2025.

Mr. Twenty-Five, one very little penguin addressed Twenty-Five, our little tawny owl. It is too hot, Mr. Twenty-Five.

What do you expect, you ice-bird, you? asked one of the little red birds. It is summer now and summer brings heat.

Cats are bringing heat, mumbled all eighteen bats in a chorus. Beware the cats! Cats are hell!

Hell is other people, said Jean-Paul Sartre, said Twenty-Five, the little tawny owl.

And so twenty-four smiling cats with heart-eyes joined the sixteen cats with tears of joy, the eight grinning cats with smiling eyes, the thirty-one grinning cats, the twenty-three spiders, the fifteen scorpions, the seven ladybugs, the twenty-nine bees, the twenty-one ants, the thirty crickets, the twenty-two mosquitos, the fourteen caterpillars, the six snails, the twenty six butterflies, the eighteen bats, the ten more chicks, the two chicks, the twenty-five chicks, the seventeen penguins, the nine little red birds and the one little tawny owl…

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"Bromford"

Home is where your heart is forever yearning 
Hope bears the scars you're forever learning 
It's been years since you went away 
Not so far away 
You disappeared like my voice 
Amongst the crashing waves 

I call out and call out 
The gaslight is fading 
Where are you now? 
The light's out 
Give me something I can dream about 

'Cause come the middle of the night 
When the restless go away 
There's never a goodbye 
Only heartache when you wake 
And I don't know 
How much more to take 
I've never missed you more 
Please come home 
Home, Bromford 

Please write and tell us how you are 

Are you happy? 
Steal your eyes for a second, 
Be a part of my dying memory 
Be a sigh for a mother's failing heart 
Make a wish come true 
Be a sight for sore eyes 

Still I call out and call out 
The gaslight is fading 
Where are you now? 
The light's out 
Give me something I can dream about 

'Cause come the middle of the night 
When the restless go away 
There's never a goodbye 
Only heartache when you wake 
And I don't know 
How much more to take 
I've never missed you more 
So glad you're home 
Home, Bromford

"The Ghost of Bromford"

Well, she comes out at night with the cold winds of December
And when it's quiet you hear her engines cry
She blows smoke at her wheels and her gears pound the steel
As they carry her on down the line

Now I'm sure that you've heard stories, as most of us have
In the lunch counter and barber shop queues
She's the Ghost of Bromford and from here up to Richmond
She runs by the light of the moon

Well a few years back on the old Suffolk Road
Where it crosses the abandoned rail line
My Grandpa claimed that he'd seen a freight train
And it wasn't no sleek streamline

She was cold black and steel and she screamed as she cut
Her way clear of the pines
But he swears to this day he can feel the earth shake
And smell her smoke when the wind's just right

Ah, but back in her day she was a real working horse
Haulin' coal out for old man Ward
She was tied up in ribbons and set out of Richmond
Haulin' soldiers during the war

Ah, but some say she wrecked and she rides these rails
Hopin' one day that she'll get it right
Others say she roams out picking up lost souls
And carryin' 'em down to Carolina

So if you're ever out on the old Suffolk Road
And see this strangest of sights
She's the Ghost of Bromford bound from Raleigh up to Richmond
And you'd best stay out of her line
Yeah you'd best stay out of her line

Bon Été, Bon Été …

 
»Summer is gone.«

The llama is leaning, almost hanging over the balustrade of the roof-terrace of our penthouse on the roof-top of the apartment building on 666 Whitaker Lane in Bromford, the friendly town by the bay and seaside, trying to spit and hit passer-bys on the street below.

»No, you are mistaking, animal. Today is the beginning of summer, not the end. And stop spitting. That is really gross.«

»I am not talking about any seasons here, dude«, the llama answers. »Summer is a poodle, the pet-dog of Mrs Arabella Figg from across the street.«

»How come you know someone from across the street?« I ask sceptically. »We live in a big city. Nobody knows neighbours from across the street in big cities. We don't even know all the people that are living in our own house here at 666 Whitaker Lane.«

»Talk for yourself, dude. But you kind of got me. I have stolen the name Arabella Figg from those Harry Potter novels. But she was more like a cat-woman and not that much into dogs. But I just hit that fluffy poodle-dog down there on the sidewalk with a huge amount of fluid from my mouth. I named it Summer and it ran away. See? So I am not wrong when I am saying Summer is gone.«

»Stop spitting from the roof, llama«, I yell. »And stop hitting poor poodles or noodles or anything like that!«

»Okay, okay, dude.«

The llama is slowy walking away from the balustrade towards the now empty fish-bassin to take a sip of the kind of stinky water.

»Someone really is having a bad temper these days.«

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Today is Friday, the 20th of June 2025.

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 365 & Part 366

 

Today is Monday, the 16th of June 2025.

There's a certain song - a cover version actually - I want you to hear and listen to but my self-made order keeps pushing it further back in line every time I discover new city names and songs.

What is the deeper meaning of your saying, oh, Twenty-Five, our owl-guru? asked one of the chicks.

Which song should we sing? Which song should we listen to? the crickets wanted to know.

And what town are we travelling to now? all thirty-nine cats grinned. And is it really a town or just another state of the United States of A. again?

Leave me alone, the tawny owl grumbled. Maybe another philosophical thought will help you folks better.

And he added, Happiness depends upon ourselves, said Aristotle.

And sixteen cats with tears of joy joined the eight grinning cats with smiling eyes, the thirty-one grinning cats, the twenty-three spiders, the fifteen scorpions, the seven ladybugs, the twenty-nine bees, the twenty-one ants, the thirty crickets, the twenty-two mosquitos, the fourteen caterpillars, the six snails, the twenty six butterflies, the eighteen bats, the ten more chicks, the two chicks, the twenty-five chicks, the seventeen penguins, the nine little red birds and the one little tawny owl…

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"East Bromford Blues"

I was born in East Bromford
North Carolina I did roam
There I met the fairest maiden
Name and age I did not know

Her hair it was of the darkest color
Cheeks they were all ruby red
On her breast she wore white lilies
There I longed to lay my head

I'd rather be on some dark holler
Where the sun don't ever shine
And to see you love another
And to know you'll never be mine

I don't want your green back dollar
I don't want your diamond ring
All I want is your love darling
Won't you take me back again
Won't you take me back again

"Sweet Bromford"

I couldn't tell
The weight of the world
Was on your shoulders
Couldn't tell you were unhappy
You were unwell

I go along like nothing is wrong
No need to worry
Too late to feel sorrow
Upon borrowed time

And now there's no answers
No easy way out
Take it all if you want
Take it all if you want

If you know how to run
Sweet Bromford, you should run
If you know how to play
Sweet Bromford, you should play

If you know how to say
Sweet Bromford, you should say
If you know how to be
Be without me, you should be
You should be

I couldn't see
It seems I don't learn
Or get the message
Don't know you you carry
It all by yourself

How can it be
It doesn't belong
It's so not funny
This vintage of violence
Again on parade

And now there's no wonder
No shelter from shame
Be alone if you want
Be alone if you want

If you know how to run
Sweet Bromford, you should run
If you know how to play
Sweet Bromford, you should play

If you know how to say
Sweet Bromford, you should say
If you know how to be
Be without me, you should be
You should be

If you know how to run
Sweet Bromford, you should run
If you know how to play
Sweet Bromford, you should play

If you know how to say
Sweet Bromford, you should say
If you know how to be
Be without me, you should be
You should be

Bromford and Ring-tailed Lemur / Strawberry Moon …

I like to move it, move it…
I like to move it, move it…
I like to move it, move it…
You like to … MOVE IT…

King Julien in the house!

- Animal, who ate all the popsicles?

You did, you did.

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Today is Wednesday, the 11th of June 2025.

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And a tiny tawny owl flies over a land where fish can sing and strawberries grow on trees.

Come home, Twenty-Five. Come home, little owl.

 

Strawberry Moon

Sister Moon, will be my guide
In your blue, blue shadows, I would hide
All good people, asleep tonight
I′m all by myself, in your silver light
I would gaze at your face the whole night through
I'd go out of my mind, but for you
I′d go out of my mind, but for you


Lying in a mother's arms
The primal root of a woman's charms
I′m a stranger to the sun
My eyes are too weak

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 363 & Part 364

Today is Sunday, the 8th of June 2025.
Pentecost

The unexamined life is not worth living, said Socrates, said Twenty-One.

And so it begins…

What begins? the chicks wanted to know.

We are prepared and all armed, said the scorpions.

Prepared and armed for what? the chicks kept on asking.

This is the beginning of the Year of the Cats, the bats almost sang gloomily.

Not just a year, whispered eight grinning cats with smiling eyes, this is the dawing of the Age of Cats.

And so eight grinning cats with smiling eyes joined the thirty-one grinning cats, the twenty-three spiders, the fifteen scorpions, the seven ladybugs, the twenty-nine bees, the twenty-one ants, the thirty crickets, the twenty-two mosquitos, the fourteen caterpillars, the six snails, the twenty six butterflies, the eighteen bats, the ten more chicks, the two chicks, the twenty-five chicks, the seventeen penguins, the nine little red birds and the one little tawny owl…

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"Bank of Bromford Beauty Queen

I've dropped acid with guaranteed sixteen and under, none were very exciting
Sorta like a laugh track or whacking off, it gets you off, but it's just not the real thing
It's been decades since my pit days
But I haven't shaken it - I sit there like an idiot
Still wrapped up in the old punk protocol
And dreaming that the teenagers will think that I'm a radical

And I still wait for the bus to come where the high school got torn down
Still expecting to find true love among the skateboarders hanging out
The back of the bank in my hometown

All this talk and no action's got me stiff from the tit to the bone
So I'm living in la-la-land, but at least I'm not living at home
Same old catcall same old chemicals
Same old thrills stealing stockings from the shopping mall
It's easy enough to grow the fuck up happy with the rough cut
Nobody's really looking for a diamond in the rough but

I still wait for my mom to come and pick me up at Holly’s house
Ten years after they cashed it in to make a multi-level parking lot for a seven-eleven and burger king and

I've got cryptographs, I've got all the phones tapped
It's just proof enough it was indisputable
Love's not good enough I want photographs
Something that will teach me my arithmetic at last...

Betty, get your kids out, I'm on the loose again
And getting more ridiculous the more I think I ought to get my mind out of the gutter
(It's getting dangerous, Amanda, you are old enough to be the focus)
My own private highway from the cradle to the grave
I save a bundle skipping middle age and saturdays

And I still wait for the cops to come where the station since burned down
Still expecting they'll pick me up for all the sins I committed in the back of a banged-up pickup truck

And I've got autographs, backstage passes and leather jacket back patches up the...
Ask me anything I want evidence
Single serving saccharine packets dripping black with lipstick kisses

I still wait for the bus to come where the high school got torn down
Still expecting to find true love among the skateboarders hanging out
The back of the bank in my home...

I'm no pederast, just out of interest
Thank you, but I'm capable of getting up and getting dressed
Love's not good enough I want photographs
Something that will teach me common
Time and time again
I think I'll dye my hair again
Oh wow
I'm sixteen
No, I'm ten
I'm seventeen
And the bank of Bromford beauty queen

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Daddy's Gone To Bromford"

Oh, you're gonna miss your daddy when he's gone
When he's gone
Yeah, you're gonna miss your daddy when he's gone
When he's gone
Daddy's gone down that gallatin road
The hen never laid and the corn never growed
Oh, you're gonna miss your daddy when he's gone


Oh, I'd rather have a dollar than a dime
Than a dime
Yeah, I'd rather have a dollar than a dime
Than a dime
Daddy's gone down that crossville track
If he can't make a dollar then he ain't comin' back
Oh, I'd rather have a dollar than a dime

Oh, you better love your daddy while you can
While you can
Yeah, you better love your daddy while you can
While you can
Daddy's gone south on the natchez trace
If the can't show the money then he don't show his face
Oh, you'd better love your daddy while you can

Oh, your daddy's gone to Bromford now
Bromford now
Yeah, your daddy's gone to Bromford now
Bromford now
Daddy's gone down that Bromford road
The dog never barked and the cock never crowed
Oh, your daddy's gone to Bromford now.

Bromford and Blue Whale …

 

»Llama, I had a dream«, I say.

»Again?« the animal asked. »Another one? Or was it the same one again about you being a primary teacher and suddenly at parents' evening standing naked in front of a bunch parents who are all uncomfortably squeezed into much too small children's school furniture?«

»No. I don't remember ever havening such a dream or telling you about it.«

»Oh, those tiny little school desks with the chairs attached to the tables and that one big father that couldn't get out of it again. And that mother complaining about the unhealthy school food and her daughter not getting a place in the taking-care-of-llamas classes. And that llama mother that wanted her crias' wool back from the hairdressers-and-wool -weaver classes. And the llama grandpa that couldn't stop spitting.«

»Stop it, animal. Sounds more like one of your llama-nightmares.«

»The night was wet and full of frogs or toads. Sorry I got carried away.What's that big balloon flying around the ceiling? Some kind of blue hot air balloon?«

»That's a blue whale, llama, a next candidate for Bromford's next animal companion. But I think I won't work out. Just think about the moment when the whale finds out that he cannot fly around ceilings and he needs more and more water to survive. Imagine the fall and the impact.«

»Now that you mention that, dude. I can feel the big fish dripping. He really must have been one of your wet dreams.«

I close my eyes and the big marine mammal disappears with the soft pop of a bursting soap bubble.

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Today is Friday, the 6th of June 2025.