Sunday, 9 June 2013


Jennospot 99  Braces

'Ave yew got a bruvver?

Moi bruvver's name is Stanley, but nobody don't never call 'im that 'cept moi Mum, but then only when she wants ter call 'im in or tick 'im off. Ovverwise she calls 'im "Stan". Fer ev'rybody else 'ee's "Braces", wot Oi reckon suits 'im pretty well. Any'ow, it's a whole lot better'n "Stinky" or "Itchyprick", wot are the names of 'is closest friends wot also belong ter the Pepper Mill Lane Mob, wot is where we live. "Stinky" is fer Chambers and "Itchyprick" fer Hitchcock; an' if'n yew don't get the connection, Oi ain't about ter tell yew wot it is.

Any'ow, Oi don't really want ter tell yew about Itchy an' Stinky 'cos Oi reckon as 'ow Oi've already told yew more'n enough than wot's necessary. Naw, it's moi bruvver wot Oi want ter talk about.

'Ee's older'n wot Oi am by a year, wot don't give 'im the roight ter order me about loike wot 'ee tries to. An' any'ow, it don't wash wiv me, not no'ow. Yew'd've thought 'ee'd've learned that by now, but bruvvers are loike that wiv their sisters, 'cos they jus' ain't too quick on the uptake, if'n yew see wot Oi mean. F'rinstance, nobody wot lives along Pepper Mill lane, loike wot we do, 'is wot yew'd call rich; not loike them posh folk wot live up Lions Avenue. Cripes, they got water closets an' all instead of an outside toilet down the garden. Any'ow, Oi'm getting off the point, the fing is, we ain't got much money, wot means that me an' moi bruvver, we only get sixpence a week pocket money between the two of us. That's okay really, 'cos Oi unnerstand 'ow it is fer moi Mum, wot wiv Dad away in the army an' all. But wot ain't fair, is that Braces gets 'is sixpence two weeks runnin' ter moi once, wot means 'ee gets twice as much as wot Oi do.

Moi Mum says as ow 'ee's older, an' that why 'ee gets more, but Oi can't 'elp finkin' that it's also because 'ee's a boy, wot ain't fair at all. The worst is, that 'ee don't know 'ow ter save 'is money, an' as soon as 'ee gets it, 'ee spends it on somefink wot 'ee don't really need. Yeah okay, that's 'is own stupid fault wot Oi can't do nuffink about. The trouble is that when all 'is money is gone, 'ee comes ter me fer a loan.

Well, after all, 'ee is moi bruvver ain't 'ee, the daft spendthrift, so 'ow c'n Oi refuse? D'yew know, 'ee already owes me more money'n wot there is in all the Bank of England. Anybody sensible would fink that that would make 'im at least a bit considerate (there's a fancy word fer yew) towards me, but there ain't nuffink doin'; 'ee still treats me loike as though Oi owed 'im somefink, when the truth is, it's 'im wot owes me.

At 'ome, 'ee ain't so bad, mostly; but when 'ee's tergevver wiv Stinky an' Itchy, 'ee gets real insufferable. Oi suppose it's ter show off ter them as 'ow 'ee's the boss. But loike Oi said, it don't wash wiv me, an' 'ee always gets back as good as wot 'ee gives, even though 'ee's a year older. Boys (wiv a few rare exceptions) are mostly jus' more immature than wot girls are; an' that's about all there is ter that…

Still an' all, although 'ee don't deserve it, Oi love 'im, the stupid twit. Oi 'ope yew love your bruvver an' all, supposin' o’ corse that yew've got one. Lot's o' people ain't got no bruvver, an' that's a pity. Any'ow, even if'n yew ain't got no bruvver, Oi c'd lend yew moine, temporary loike, 'cos it'd be good ter 'ave a little 'oliday from 'im, but yew c'n chuck 'im out roight quick smart if'n 'ee starts gettin' uppity an' asks' fer stuff wot yew ain't got.

That's all fer now 'cept ter send yew luv from Jenno.


By the way, if'n yew'd loike ter know a bit more about moi bruvver, (though Oi don't much recommend it) yew c'd take a look at Peter St John's website:

Sunday, 2 June 2013

The Island of 'Ope

Jennospot 98  'Ope

Ain't dreams peculiar? Oi 'ad a dream the ovver noight where Oi visited an island. It were an island wot yew can't always see, 'cos, loike a submarine, it c'd go down under the water so's yew couldn't see it no more. When Oi first come towards it, Oi was feelin' pretty miserable, 'cos only the very top of it was showin', an' it were slowly goin' under. Oi 'ad ter open my eyes real wide ter keep on seein' it (only Oi din't really open 'em, 'cos Oi were asleep, weren't Oi?)

Any'ow, the more Oi opened moi eyes, the more the island came up out of the water. An' as Oi got closer, I saw a notice on the beach wot said as 'ow the island was called 'Ope. An' then underneath, in little squitty writin', it said as 'ow, unless yew opened yer eyes real good, so's enough light c'd get in, yew wasn't allowed ter come ashore, 'cos wivvout yer eyes bein' wide open, the island would sink down agen.

An' so Oi 'eld my eyes open wiv moi fingers, so's the island wouldn't sink down, an' Oi went up on ter the beach. It felt real noice ter be there. So Oi lay down on the soft sand ter 'ave a little rest, an' o' 'corse, Oi shut my eyes.

Well, Oi was real disappointed when Oi woke up again, 'cos the island weren't there any more, an' that's when Oi knew it were a dream.

Still an' all, Oi reckon as 'ow ev'ry day, we need ter 'ave a little island of 'Ope, so's we c'n 'elp ter make the world a bit better ter live in, don't yew fink? An' that's real important, 'cos if'n we ain't got that, then it's dead easy ter accept a whole lotta dismal fings wot would make us very un'appy indeed. Oi reckon as 'ow it ain't a good idea ter be un'appy, an' so it's better ter fink of the island of 'Ope.

An' then, if'n Oi shut moi eyes (but real wide open inside loike), Oi c'n see the island again. It's a roight broight emerald green, an' the sea around is all sparkly an' blue, wiv calm ripples. An' there's jus' a little soothin' breeze a-comin' in, wot yew c'n feel above the eyebrows. Cripes, that island 'as got a real lot goin' fer it.

Oi reckon as 'ow, if'n yew got 'Ope in yer 'eart, yew gotta take good care it don't sink away, 'cos 'ope is somefink wot is real necessary fer everyone, if'n they want ter see fings clear.
Wiv 'ope, it's possible ter be positive, an' ter believe in love. Wivvout it, yew c'n get all down, loike daft ol' Dismal 'ere. But then Oi reckon as 'ow Dismal does 'is gloomy act a-purpose, jus' fer laughs; but Oi ain't sure… In any case, 'ee ain't really amusin', just annoyin'. Any'ow, Oi'm full o'f 'ope fer 'im, an' fer yew, an' fer me an' all.

'Ave yew too got yer little island of 'Ope? Oi 'ope so…

Luv from Jenno.

By the way, don't ferget Peter St John's website: It's got Dismal on it an' lot's of uvver stuff an' all..

Yew c'n go there if'n yew want, but it ain't as important as wot moi little island is, natch.