Jenno's Gangs Rampaging

Jennospot 96 Jenno's Gangs Rampaging

 

Last week Oi wrote fer yew about as 'ow there are some gangs in moi village o' Widdlin'ton, an' as 'ow Peter St John was makin' a picture book about 'em. Well the book is out now, so Oi c'n show yew 'ere wot the cover looks loike. Actually P St J 'as 'ad the cheek ter put 'is noime on the cover, but jus' between yew an' me, if'n it weren't fer moi 'elp there wouldn't 'ardly be no book, 'cos Oi 'ad ter keep a-tellin' 'im wot ter put. Besides, if'n yew took me out of the book there wouldn't be much left, would there; if'n yew see wot Oi mean.

Any'ow, the book is out an' rampagin' around now. Leastways, if'n it ain't rampagin', it jolly well ought ter be, 'cos it ain't ev'ry day where yew get a whole lot o' village gangs all tergevver under one cover, so ter speak. Cripes, there's enough rough stuff goin' on where they're separated inter their territories, never moind when they're squashed tergevver in a little book.

Wot's more, it ain't moi fault if some of 'em don't get along. People are jus' loike that: They're perfec'ly able not ter loike one anovver fer no good reason at all. But when yew fink that in Widdlin'ton there are lots o' real good reaons fer not getting' along― well wot c'n yew expect…?

O' 'corse Oi get on pretty good wiv most ev'rybody, 'cept "Slug" Snaylor natch, an' that there Heebie Jeebie Phoebe at the Post Office. Yew can't count Bill Bates, wot 'elps 'is dad at the butchers, Oi mean, 'ee's jus' thick, an' 'is two off-siders are pretty much non compos mentis an' all. Oi ain't a-goin' ter mention J.J. 'cos 'ee's moi gang leader in the Pepper Mill Lane, but Oi reckon as 'ow fings would be better between us if'n 'ee 'ad a bit more respect fer girls, 'specially fer girls loike me. Any'ow, Oi reckon as 'ow Oi've made moi point, 'cos Oi'm real easy ter get on wiv if'n yew treat me roight. See wot Oi mean…?

 

Any'ow, if'n yew'd loike ter know a bit more about all that, yew c'd take a look at moi book "Jenno's Gangs" (even though P St J 'as put 'is noime on the cover). It only costs 99 cents, wot ain't dear seein' as 'ow it's got lots o' pictures in it.

 

It's on Smashwords (cripes, makes me fink o' people arguin' over a traffic collision). All yew got ter do is jus' click on http://www.smashwords.com/b/315767 an' then yew c'n be rampagin' along wiv the best of 'em.

'Appy rampagin'.

Luv from Jenno…

 

http://www.peterstjohn.net/

Jenno's Gangs

Jennospot 95 Jenno's Gangs

 Most ev'rybody in moi village o' Widdlin'ton is in a gang; 'cept fer the girls o' corse, but that depends which gang. There's several of 'em:

There's the Streeters fer a start off, wot don't 'ave no girls, an' the Adare Road gang wot don't 'ave no girls neither. An' cripes, they're a real rough lot down the Adare Road.

There's the Chapel Gang up the top end of The Street, but only fer the chapel kids, an' there ain't many o' them. There's the Lions Avenue Lot, wot is close ter where Oi live. They 'ave girls wot are proper members, but then they're a bit posh up there in the Avenue. They've got water closets instead of an out'ouse down the garden. They've got proper barfrooms wiv 'ot water an' all…

Moi gang (well sort of moi gang) is the Pepper Mill Lane Mob. Oi say sort of, because the boys let girls in, but only as second class members as it were, 'cos the boys keep a lot o' stuff secret from us. That's why Oi set up a gang fer girls only. We called it the "Go Getter Girls", only we 'ad a few little problems getting' it goin' properly...

Yew c'd say that them among us wot go ter the same school make up a gang, an' even them wot are in the same class. But that ain't quite the same as a proper gang 'cos it's the teachers wot are the leaders, an' they ain't kids. Still an' all, them wot are in yer class or at yer school are sort o' special, even if'n they're in anovver gang somewhere else; don't yew fink?

Oi'm showin' yew a picture o' some o' them wot live in Widdlin'ton. It ain't ev'rybody natch, 'cos there are several 'undred people wot live in Widdlin'ton, but them in the picture are the most int'restin' fer me, even if'n they come from different gangs.

 As well as them wot are at school, there's also them wot get tergevver in church, wot are a bit loike a gang, wiv their chantin' an their rules an' all; only most o' the church kids are also in ovver gangs, an' there's lot's o' grown-ups as well, wot kind o' mucks fings up, if'n yew see wot Oi mean…

Ev'ry gang 'as it's own territ'ry, an' they don't loike kids from ovver gangs trespassin' on their bit o' Widdlin'ton (cripes, ain't trespassin' an int’restin' word?). If'n yew troi it yew'll see wot Oi mean. The boundaries o' the territ'ries ain't marked on no map, but if'n yew cross one, yew c'n certainly feel it.

Any'ow, Oi'm a-tellin' yew all this 'cos Peter St John is puttin' tergevver a booklet about the Widdlin'ton gangs. It's goin' ter go up soon on Smashwords (cripes, "Smashwords"! Oi ask yew; ain't nobody got no respect fer the English language no more?). It's called "Jenno's Gangs", an' it's got lots o' pictures in it tergevver wiv moi sayings from Facebook. Cripes, Oi never though moi Facebook stuff would ever be made inter a book. Still an' all, that's 'ow it is…

Ju's thought yew'd loike ter know.

Wiv luv from Jenno…

There’s ovver books about Widdlin’ton; real ones wot are proper novels. If’n yew loike, yew c’n find out about ‘em at http://www.peterstjohn.net/index.htm

Spring

Jennospot 94 Spring

 

Spring will soon be 'ere.

Oi always know when it's goin' ter be Spring a-cause of the ants. Ev'ry year, jus' about this time, they start a-wanderin' around in the kitchen lookin fer somefink ter eat. Oi recken as 'ow they must be newly'atched young'uns because the old'uns know already that there ain't much ter find in moi kitchen. Still an' all, they go searchin' around all 'opeful loike, jus' in case somebody 'as dropped a jammy crumb o' bread or a few grains o' sugar. Wot they loike best is a bit o' meat, but we don't get much o' that, an' any'ow we always wash up roight after ev'ry meal, so that don't 'elp the ants too much.

 

Yeah, but sometimes we ferget to pick up Cat's dish after 'ee's finished 'is breakfast or 'is supper, an' then don't the ants 'ave a real treat! Cripes, they call all their mates ter join in. They come from somewhere by thousands, an' Cat's dish looks loike somebody 'as sprinkled black pepper all over it only it's movin' around, an' the pepper ‘as a long black tail 'eadin' back ter the ants' nest wot Oi can’t never find.

 

Not only that, if nobody notices, an' the dish is left out all noight, next morning, it's so clean yew'd fink it 'ad just come out of the washin' up. But even though it's so clean we wash it up all the same, ovverwise Cat would probably be a bit miffed, though yew wouldn't fink it given the mucky ol' stuff  loike mice an' crickets wot 'ee catches ter eat outside…

 

But a forgotten Cat's dish aside, loike Oi were a-sayin', there ain't much ter please the ants inside, so they get the message, an' after a couple o' weeks they don't come in loike they did at first. Besides, it's getting' warmer outside, so they don't need ter warm their little feet an' feelers in the kitchen no more. An' any'ow, there's more ter be found in the garden fer 'em, wiv much less useless wanderin' around.

Sometoimes Oi wonder, wiv ants bein' so small an' all, wevver they can't see, or smell, or taste, single molecules of stuff, wot we can't do, 'cos we're so big.

 

Any'ow, Spring ain't far off, an' though Oi don't care overmuch fer ants, specially not the bitin' kind, Oi'm sorta glad ter see 'em ev'ry year, aren't yew?

Wishin' yew an 'appy Spring time, wiv luv from Jenno…

Gang Petition Review

Jennospot 93 "Gang Petition" Review

 

'Ave yew ever been ter Lunnon? Oi were there once, an' Oi saw Buckin'am Palace, the 'ouse where the Prime Minister lives, that famous bridge by the Tower o' Lunnon wot opens ter let ships through, an' I saw the statue o' Emmeline Pankhurst an' all. That were real special.

 

Any'ow, it were a proper adventure, an' Peter St John wrote it all down, as well as ovver stuff, in a book wot's called "Gang Petition". An then cripes, ain't it amazin' 'ow sometimes real noice fings come a-flyin' at yew out o' the blue, so ter speak, 'cos Mr Richard Denning, wot writes books too (http://www.richarddenning.co.uk/) 'as written a real 'appy-makin' review about it fer the Historical Novel Society (http://historicalnovelsociety.org/reviews/gang-petition/). Oi've copied it out fer yew below jus' in case yew'd loike ter read wot 'ee says:

"1941 – Britain is at war with Germany. But the children in the Lions Avenue Gang are focused on a predicament in their home town of Widdlington. A local man, known to all as ‘Dummy’, is threatened with eviction from the allotments which he farms and where he grows vegetables for all of the townsfolk. The Women’s Land Army has been given the land and it seems that no one will be able to do anything about it as Dummy has few allies. This is when the local gang of children step in and take on the vicar, the parish council and eventually the government. Between go-cart races against their rival gang, Peter, Jenno and the others must find a way to get a petition to the King.

Gang Petition is the next instalment of a series which describes the goings-on and adventures of a gang of children. The books are based on the childhood memories of the author, who was evacuated to the East Anglian countryside in 1940 after his orphanage was bombed during the Blitz. (Actually the author has a fascinating story of his own to tell! I would like to know more about his jobs in the RAF, European Space Agency and even Australian and European governments.)

The Gangs in this series are not objectionable; yes, there is fighting between rivals, but these are children’s gangs – full of fun, camaraderie, and they yearn for adventure. These were the halcyon days when children went “out to play” after breakfast and did not return until suppertime. This feels like an authentic reproduction of children’s lives 70 years ago, during the war. The interaction between the children, and also the relations they have with adults, feels genuine and at the same time quite funny.

This is a pleasant, fun read and should appeal mostly to adults who are nostalgic for their childhood but might also appeal to some children wanting to understand how totally different it was growing up during the war. Leaving the war aside, there is a timeless element in these pages for I also recall playing with a cart and getting up to a certain amount of mischief in a gang, and I was born in the 1960’s much later than this setting.

The author has added his own map as well as illustrations which have an old fashioned hand-drawn feel to them, and they charmingly compliment the book.

Overall the story is well written with good use of slang terms, nick names and local dialects to create the world in which the adventure is set. It is not a demanding read but should be taken as it is – lighthearted and enjoyable.

(Author’s own printed version read - available for sale on Kindle only)"

Thank yew Mr Denning, an' thank yew the Historical Novel Society. Just fink of it: Oi reckon as ‘ow Oi've become 'istorical. Cripes, Peter St John'll laugh 'is 'isterical 'ead off… (http://www.peterstjohn.net/)

 

Oi'm goin' ter leave yew now, wiv luv from Jenno.

 

Snow

Jennospot 92 Snow

 

There's some people as reckon as 'ow the world is getting' warmer and warmer. Well, people are free ter believe wotevver they loike, provided they don't get too stroppy about it, an' prap's they ain't wrong. Any'ow, when Oi look out the winder, Oi see it's snowin' again, wot is all roight wiv me, specially if'n Oi can't get ter school fer a couple o' days, but that don't 'ardly never 'appen, worst luck…

The best is, Oi've taken the wheels off'n moi cart "Emmeline P" an' fitted some runners, wot are actually a pair of old skis wot moi posh aunt Gertrude 'ad given 'er when she were young just before the Great War, but Oi don't fink she never used 'em, 'cos 'er 'usband got killed an' then she didn't 'ave no money ter go ter Switzerland, or wherever it is yew go fer the skiin' when yew're rich an' posh.

Still an' all, the skis make Emmeline P inter a real good sled. Oi went out wiv 'er last week, an' the snow were so deep Oi near got drowned in a snowdrift. Got moi boots full o' snow too, an' it went up moi sleeves. Cripes it weren't 'alf wet when it melted, but that didn't matter none 'cos Oi got real warm  strugglin' through the snow, an' up the 'ill. It were worf it too wiv the run down again. Me an' moi bruvver 'ad races wiv the rest of the Mob, 'cept fer J.J. 'oo 'ad ter help 'is mum split some logs an' bring 'em in fer the fire.

We've got a fire too, but only in the kitchen range wot we also do the cookin' on. The rest of the 'ouse is pretty parky this wevver, 'specially moi bedroom wot is up in the attic. Got a good view out the skylight though, when it ain't covered wiv snow. We ain't lucky loike them posh people wot live up Lions Avenue. They've got a fireplace in the livin' room. Only trouble is that yew've got make it ev'ry day. 'specially if'n there ain't nobody at 'ome most of the time, loike at Peter's place. Don't reckon as 'ow 'ee gets ter see a fire most days. Fact is, Oi know 'ee don't, 'cos there's ain't no smoke from 'is chimney. 'Ee just 'as ter put on an extra pullover. Reckon 'ee wouldn't mind too much if the world really were getting' a bit warmer.

Any'ow, it's snowin' again, an' Oi'm goin' out ter see if any'body wants ter go sleddin'.

'Ave yerself an' 'appy snowfall, wiv luv from Jenno.

The Mountain Glide

Jennospot 91 The Mountain Glide

 

Yew wouldn't fink it, if'n yew were ter come all casual loike ter Widdlin'ton, that the whole village (that is ter say all the kids) are dead keen on soapbox racin'. Widdlin'ton is in a valley, see, wiv the river runnin' along the bottom, so on either soide there are slopes wot are pretty 'andy fer ridin' down in soapboxes.

 

Any'ow, up on the east side, where the slope is steepest there are several old quarries, an' the one just above Lions Avenue where Peter lives is the biggest. They used ter get gravel out of it, but it ain't been worked fer quite a while now, not since Oi c'n remember any'ow. Down the soide of this 'ere quarry there's a steep slope wot we call the Mountain Glide. An' when Oi say steep, Oi mean it's real steep. When yew stan' at the top lookin' down, yew c'n get giddy real easy if'n yew ain't used ter it.

 

It's so steep that when yew ride down, yew 'ave do it zigzaggin' loike ovverwise yew'll go so fast yer eyes'll start a-waterin' an' yer wheels'll likely fall off. Any'ow, yew can't really go straight down 'cos there's prickly stuff, loike bramble bushes an' gorse, wot grows in clumps 'ere an' there. So yew 'ave ter zigzag ter go around 'em.

 

There's anuvver zigzag place wot we call The Zigzag wiv a capital Z, It's a path at the side of the quarry where lorries used ter go up an' down. But Oi don't reckon as 'ow no lorries c'd go there no more, 'cos parts of the path 'ave been washed away by the rain. It's okay fer racin' down though, 'cos we've done some repairs ter the worst bits. It makes an int'restin' change from racin' down the glide, 'cos it's a bit narrer in parts, as well as 'avin' ter go a bit careful over the roughest bits. That aside, it ain't bad fer learners neither.

 

We go racin' often an' there's a whole lot about our soapbox cart racin' in Peter St John's "Gang" books. Oi got a racin' cart wot's called Emmeline P, an' Oi've raced 'er a few toimes down the Mountain Glide, an' down the Zigzag. So if'n yew like excitin' racin' stories yew c'd do worse 'n take a look at http://www.peterstjohn.net/index_12.htm an' go exploring from there. There's some pictures an' all. There's even one of me…

 

Luv from Jenno.

Widdlington Village Shops

Jennospot 90  Widdlington Village Shops

 

Moi village o' Widdlin'ton is a noice little place, only it ain't really all that little. They reckon as 'ow there's nearly eight 'undred people wot live there, give or take a few families; only most o' the men are away now at war, wot makes fer a few less.

We got a church, wot is called Saint Mary's. That's where Peter sings in the choir wiv Winnie, an' Pearl, an' Mr Earthy, an' a few of the ovvers. It's Peter's aunt wot plays the organ, only she don't play too good from wot Peter tells me. Oi wouldn't know really, 'cos Oi don't go ter church 'cept jus' sometoimes fer weddin's an' funerals an' such.

We got a Chapel an' all. That's where Penny Garman goes, wiv er bruvver Wesley, only Peter's aunt don't fink much o' that 'cos she reckons them Chapel folk are pagans, wot makes life difficult fer Peter 'cos 'ee's got a bit of a mushy crush on that there precious Penny. But Oi ain't takin' no sides, well not much any'ow. Oi ain't that daft…

There's a little tin shed in Widdlin'ton too, at the far end o' Lions Avenue, wot belongs ter the Salvation Army. They don't come there very often, but when they do, they rile ev'rybody 'cos they make a real racket wiv their bells, an' trumpets an' taborines. Cripes, yew c'n even 'ear 'em from moi place! Reckon as 'ow they do some good though, 'cos they look after poor people an' them wot are sick, so yew can't complain; 'cept fer Peter's aunt o'corse.

Widdlin'ton 'as got a lotta shops fer it's size. There's ol' Ma Jennings' at the corner o' Pepper Mill Lane, wot is where Oi live. Kinda 'andy bein' so close when yew want a packet o' biscuits or a bit o' butter. Then between 'er an' moi 'ouse there's Mrs Mayhew's newsagency, wot were where Peter 'ad is cart pinched once. But that's anuvver story…

Up The Street, wot is the real old part o' Widdlin'ton, there's three shops, if'n yew don't count the Post Office, wot Oi don't, a-cause of spiteful ol' Mrs Jackson, wot is the Muvver o' Heebie Jeebie, wot got Peter inter trouble wiv the Law. That's enough said about that…

Any'ow, where was Oi? Oh yeah, shops: There's Bates the butcher; 'im wot's the dad o' Bill Bates wot's the leader o' the Streeters Gang. There's Bowman the baker, in the middle. An' then there's Hibberd's General Store, an' cripes, Oi do mean general. Ol' Hibberd is our Home Guard corporal. 'Ee' wears glasses loike the bottoms o' two beer bottles, an' then 'ee keeps on a-losin' 'em. Cripes…

O'corse, if'n it's vegetables yew're a-wantin', yew c'n always ask ol' Dummy at the allotments, only 'ee ain't exac'ly a shop. Besides, 'ee's got 'is reg'lars, so it ain't likely 'ee'll be able ter 'elp yew none.

Well Oi reckon that's about it fer Widdlin'ton shops, 'cept fer the wool shop down by the Mill, but they only got stuff fer knittin', fer makin' clothes an' curtains, an' all that sort o' fing, wot ain't really moi cup o' tea.

Oi've put a few pictures in, so's yew c'n see wot Oi'm on about. If'n yew'd loike ter know more, yew c'd always read some o' Peter St John's "Gang" books, wot are described on http://www.peterstjohn.net/. But only if'n yew really want to, that is. There's even a couple o' pictures there o' me, but Peter ain't put 'em on the first page, dunno why. It means yew gotta search fer 'em. It's a pity, but then 'ee don't never take much notice o' me 'cept when Oi make 'im…

 

Luv from Jenno.