Millom in the Dock by Frankie Lassut Read Free Book Online Page A

own.
Parents, peers and teachers can and, usually are, unwitting, closed
minded terrible enemies (there is no worse enemy to this planet
than a closed mind).
    All human
knowledge is nothing more than remembered memory. We ALL know
‘everything’ … scary or what! Yet not as scary as a system which
would create closed minds and suppress that knowledge. However,
this small forgotten Northern settlement, M, has its fair share of
actual ‘realised’ genius (although they don’t see themselves that
way, it’s just normal). The only trouble is, a lack of
communication with the outside world which, would give these people
a chance to spread the inventive wing and share what they have with
the rest of the world (in the God forgotten dimension that is).
    Well, I mean,
look at what the press had to say about their main arterial
highway, I quote:-
    “The main road
into the town passes through two farmyards.”
    Hmmmm? Does
this little observational remark, fact or not (?), which was
displayed in the National press put valuable people off visiting?
It is said as though such geographical features are a crime in
themselves. “Yes this road obviously passes through Hick-ville …
keep out whatever you do! The Beverley Hillbilly’s poor cousins
live here!” Oh what a pity everyone doesn’t live in big cities with
all their refreshing delights. Crime on the streets, trash covering
the streets, muggings, murders, gangs of hoodies walking around
intent on destruction and assorted lunatics racing around in fast
cars; and walking the pavements. Cities!? Breeding grounds for
crime and ignorance! But … each to their own.
    I class myself
as fortunate indeed; I have / have had both. Yet you may choose and
a very good choice it is too … to live in a small town, surrounded
by idyllic countryside and with the sea right by your side but,
whatever you do, watch very carefully where your main through road
is laid … tut tut! But come on now M’lud, ladies and gentlemen of
the Jury, dear reader what could be handier for fresh untampered
farm produce. Indeed! For eggs, potatoes, vegetables and hooved
things … how about a cow for the deep freeze ladies and gentlemen
of the Jury? Hmmmm? I know you good people may find such a task
easy to accomplish? Have it butchered and delivered perhaps? Just a
phone call away; am I correct? You take it for granted? You
wouldn’t in M. You see, in God forgotten Hicksville things are done
differently. Oh yes.
    For a start you
pay the farmer not the butcher then you go and collect your cow,
which is guaranteed to be extremely fresh by the way, straight from
the field fresh! The farmer, whose new found fortune goes straight
to his head, goes straight to the pub with a wine to water
conversion latter day ‘mini miracle’ buzzing around in his
conscious mind, posing as a good idea! (Although he’s careful not
to leak this in case the Reverend finds out and has him exorcised
or worse exercised … whichever is cheaper).
    Ok, I’ll admit
this ‘serve yourself’ method may sound a little perplexing but,
fear is not an option, especially if the customer is famished. The
farmer, by his very nature being a generous soul, especially with
blunderbuss pellets for trespassers, will allow the customer to use
his sheepdog and his spare whistle, for a small deposit on the
whistle that is, just in case it is accidentally swallowed should
the person trip while running! Luckily the local sheepdog’s
multi-skill (saves on wages / dog food) and do other breeds too,
because the fun starts when the customer wants a multiple ‘rural
pick ‘n’ mix order’ – i.e. a cow, bull, a sheep and two pigs for
instance. The procedure is usually as follows:-
    Pay the money –
farmer disappears. The customer ‘confidently’ enters the field with
dog and whistle. The animals, not surprisingly, sc – a – t – te –
r.
     
    Cow: “Look out
ladies! Everybody! Pick ‘n’ mix I think!”
    Customer still
looks confident, yet