Saturday, 18 August 2012

Broken





There are in life few sadder tasks,
than clearing up your broken flasks.

Tea spilt in droplets, cold and round, the shattered glass upon the ground.

The promise of a refreshing brew,
replaced instead by boo hoo hoo.

The once hot liquor, the tea totallers friend, is now a mess that non can mend.

Both tea and flask are no more,
there'll never be another pour.

So which ever way you use your flask, listen close, of that I ask.

Never leave it inside car door, lest it fall upon the floor.

For that dear reader is my tale of woe and to the flask emporium I must go.

Perhaps this time I'll choose stainless steel, It certainly has a tougher feel.

Shiny metal, black plastic cup, will I hope mean a safer sup.

                                   + Many Coats+

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

13 comments:

  1. A lesson to be learned from that
    untimely mishap, I do feel:
    shun glass and plastic - silly twat -
    and always opt for stainless steel.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dear Mr. Tom Stephenson,

      Functionality should only have so much sway Sir! With our antiquarian sensibility we have a penchant for the vacuum flask - even if there is the occasional risk of mishap. Having said that, we are not averse to a well-made contemporary flask - so long as it isn't abused by pouring of tea through the lid-slots (for that is an abomination to all sturdy Members!). Here are some nice examples of flasks owned by RSAR members:
      http://raggedramblers.blogspot.co.uk/2012/01/flasking-questions.html

      Delete
    2. Now that you mention it, I recall fond memories of picnics with my parents and setting out to famous Surrey beauty-spots in the Ford Pilot in the late 1950s, with a massive wicker hamper on board. We would break down at least once on any trip, and my mother and siblings would be forced to sit silently inside the hot car as my father quietly swore as he grazed his knuckles on immovable nuts and bolts, behind the huge, raised bonnet, occasionally shouting at us to shut up if we so much as giggled.

      After about 2 hours of this, it would be too late to get to our destination before sundown, so we would console ourselves by having our picnic at the side of the windswept and dusty road. The hamper would be brought out and the massive Thermos vacuum flask would be unstrapped from the lid as we waited in anticipation for a nice cup of tea to slake our parched throats.

      As my mother gently shook the flask, it's contents made a sound like a cocktail shaker with crushed ice and tonic in it, and it would be silently strapped back into the lid. My father would eventually buy a new silvered glass insert, and the whole procedure would be repeated the following year.

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    3. Thank you for that Tom, a truly wonderful memory of a 'dramble' - a combination of driving and rambling. In Norfolk we also call it 'riving'.

      Delete
  2. My heartfelt condolences for your loss Mr. Many Coats! I do empathise. I believe you were with me when one of my prized 1970s tarten thermos' suffered the very same fate (Fritton church was it? Damp Autumnal day. I interred the shattered remain near the church boundary wall... "One for archaeologists of the future"). I can still recall the empty (dry!) feeling inside. I felt... bereft! Yes, that's the word...

    Huzzah!
    ~ Munro ~

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  3. I was indeed with you on that terrible day Munro. The sheer terror ney grief was burnt into my soul. I had hoped never to see the like again. Perhaps Tom is right that Stainless is the way forward, but that in my opinion it would mark the top of a very slippery slope. What next, gortex rain coats instead of tweed? I remember the great corduroy riot of 72. We must stand firm.

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  4. I think there is room for modernity and vintage in the Ragged Rambler lexicon Mr Many Coats.

    Huzzah!

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  5. I suppose so Munro, although I still think it is a bit new age allowing lexicons into the Learned Society.

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  6. Did the hot liquid seem down your hairy inner thigh? Hmmm, warm...

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  7. Dear Baxter.
    Alas the liquid was spilt upon the ground and quickly seeped into the nearby verge. A waste whichever way you look at it!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dear Mr. Many Coats,

      I find that your use of the words 'liquid' and 'seeped' excite me in ways you can't begin to imagine. Hmmm, warm...

      Delete