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“The man turned, his jacket opened, plainly visible a .32 in a shoulder holster the message screamed out ‘I can walk around London tooled up without any worries. It was time to go home….’

Peddling along to the first pickup, Stanley stopped and looked at the list. Here he comes looking around he looked twitchy no smiles today. In he goes, a few minutes, head down off he goes, go to the third one, wait he will be a while yet, here he is eyes everywhere looking around, very nervous, this is different it is on today. Miss a couple pick him up again, yes most definitely let’s get back to his flat. Now round the back there’s a small alleyway doesn’t go anywhere put the bike here chain on to many thieves about. Gloves, gun out of the saddlebag into jacket pocket, silencer in the other. Walk round to the front hand through the letterbox, people do what they have grown up doing, step inside pull the key through close the door. Stand still listen all quiet, up the stairs check the kitchen, toilet, bedroom, living room, suitcase feels heavy, whats the time? not much preparation fit silencer and wait. Time is a funny thing, if you have two minutes before you die it goes in a flash, when you have an hour and a half to pass it seems to last forever. A scrabble downstairs, make sure the safety catch is off, sit still, footsteps running up the stairs the door opened a man burst in put the briefcase on the coffee table and reached for the suit case, Stanley pulled the hammer back and the man turned.

NO!!!

Phht…phht

Blood splattered the back wall as the body was thrown across the room wait, silence, pick up the briefcase walk out slowly downstairs, wait listen. Open door step outside pull door shut. Walk round the back there is the bike at least it hasn’t been stolen.

Stanley sat in a park shelter the briefcase beside him. Tuesday morning very quiet, he looked at his watch five minutes, not many people around.  He looked through the missing plank at the back of his shelter, there’s the man walking along the path towards the opposite shelter. He reached it looked at his watch and sat down inside.  Stanley opened the briefcase, assembled the rifle, scope, silencer he looked around all clear. He put the rifle through the opening the stock firmly against his shoulder.  Look through the scope line it up, cross hairs  he’s looking at his watch again, nice and gently, control the breathing steady keep still, the rifle jerked against his shoulder and the man slipped down on the seat.  Stanley started taking the gun apart, scope, silencer, barrel, breach, stock all put away, close the case push the clips in stand up, pick up the case and slowly walk out. Down the path out of the gate along the road, no taxis about better get a bus….”

Michael Douglas Bosc – Author

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A Story With a Difference:


Writing is something strange, you either feel it or you don’t.  Personally for me it’s something that’s there and often the urge to write even if I’m not sure what is strong.  Thats how Drifting came into being.  I have a book of jottings where I write down ideas and this was one of them.

In the past I have written about people and their lives Stanley for example.  His story was one of crime, sex and how he and his mother survived during and after WW2.  Then there was Jason. Now his story woven into the British Navy of the 1700/1800’s was different. This was historically challenging, not the naval side but the social side of life then, which makes these books Adult books.

Then came young persons books Clearing in the Forest, Peaceful Land and I am currently working on the third book. These were from ideas written down in my little book.

But Drifting was something different, something with no social comment, or historical reference just a plain straight forward story, of happenings and the supernatural.  I entered a strange world of possibilities and did it or didn’t it happen, was it real or just imagination and the ending well….

So I have decided to write some short stories along these lines, where it will lead I don’t know, but there is one thing I am sure of I will not be delving into this realm.  The stories will come from all over woven around an idea, yes some will have a historical nature but they will be based on factual events, only the story will be fictional because you cannot ask the characters exactly how they came to be where they were.  My research into history and stories from the west country have given me a few ideas along this line.

So there is an awful lot to do and keep me busy for a long time. Such is writing.

 

(c) Jason D’ebre – author

 

 

 

 

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Kath Spreadbury I’m hooked now I will have to get it.

Linda Coombes Love this book such a great read 💖💖💖💖💖

CLEARING  IN  THE  FOREST  by JASON D’EBRE  –   Authors remarks:-

I wrote these books with the younger generation in mind, in the vain hope they would like reading about events in history whilst wrapped up in magic, witches, villains and good v evil.  Now a days everything seems to either whoosh bang wallop or killing, bloodshed, total destruction with NO proper story behind it.  Comic book films seem to be all directors can do these days.  Now I like certain films, the penguins, scooby doo, (the original films) and so forth. They are fun, relaxing and THEY HAVE A STORY RUNNING THROUGH THEM even tom and jerry have but they entertain and have more words than hey lookout etc.,

Writing is hard and those who pay others for ideas, or to ghost write for them are NOT real authors.  Stories come from within a person’s head, they feel part of the story as if the characters were telling them what came next, at least that’s how I fell about all my stories.  Sometimes I cannot sleep because there is a character in my head nagging me about something that either needs to be written or I have got it wrong and need to get it right before I forget. So then it’s up and laptop on writing, and usually the character is right.   I am not the only person who writes and experiences this so I am sure there are many of you who do.

Over the past few months when I have been busy repairing and installing security stuff in and house, I have not been writing.  So when at last everything was done and I finally sat down to write again, imagine how I felt the other night when I had this voice saying you should get this down now this is what happened, not whats written get it put right now before the others have a chance to interfere….. So there I was at diddly squat hours pounding away on the laptop and do you know that character was right.  Once I had typed everything then read it corrected, refined, checked research then read again it all made sense.  I have tried having a pen and paper by the bed but I find if I wake I am sitting there for hours writing so it’s just as easy to sit at my laptop.  I have a plug for charging and a lap cushion for the laptop, but it is easier to sit at my desk….

(c) Jason D’ebre – author

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Part of our garden, rocks, shrubs, herbs and olive trees not to mention the pines – some of which grow mistletoe or have squirrels drays in them.  It is in this environment that my wife insisted she had a garden of sorts. Lack of water decreed that it should be mostly bulbs and drought loving plants so here’s how we go along.

Lots of weeds, an angle of the forest  and a couple of sculptures..

As most of you who follow me know we live on a small olive in the middle of a forest with wild boar, wild goats and other animals. This is not a great problem for me but for my wife and her small flower beds it’s a bit like painting the Fourth Bridge you get to one end and have to start again at the other.

The garden is only one part of life up here the olive trees and the odd almond tree not only keep me busy but tending the olive trees is a full-time job.  I have plenty scattered through my bit of forest but around 30 on fairly flat terraced land which I can easily reach and look after.  Being in my 70’s plus not having agricultural water I have no intention of farming on a grand scale – it does not pay – but I look after enough trees to produce our own olive oil for the table for about 6/8 months of the coming year.  So I thought I’d talk about them properly from our perspective no quoting statistics or things like that, just observations on my own trees plus a bit of history. Thus forgetting about the commercial growing of olives this is how we grow and make our own Olive Oil.

On my little tractor to collect wood

The trees on the finca are very old, some are around 1,000 years old with bases that have, over the years and with encouraging new growth, been in the ground for centuries. It is well documented that the romans grew olives in this part of the country the fact that terraces were built along the side of the now long departed river that once used to sprout from the side of the masa and run down to the river Ebro. It also shows the ingenuity of their engineers and that they had slave labour as the terrace walls are not only still standing centuries later  but are deep and well-built.  Every now and then the boar will disturb one trying to reach grubs and the result is a collapse that offers an insight into history.

It was the same with the trees. Olive trees are an interesting subject, before we owned the farm I did not realise that they flowered. Every year the trees turn from a deep green to a creamy green as the flowers open.  There is no perfume but the bees are very busy, as the flowers die off you begin to see the olives forming.

Before trimming and Sam’s garden built round it this tree in all its glory

Today they have machines which can grasp the trunk of the tree and shake it collecting the olives in a large bag which then passes them into a truck a bit like you see the combine harvester doing.  Our trees however are to wide and solid for this plus the terraces are only big enough for a man and donkey.  The other point is years ago to get more olives from each tree and make picking easier they would do several things. First they would split the trunk into three so eventually they ended up with three trees instead of one.  Secondly they kept the middle of the tree open so light could get in there.  Thirdly the trees were kept to a certain height for ease of picking.  As time went on people let the trees grow a bit taller and made A-shaped ladders to reach the olives on the upright branches.

 

You can see here how large and tall they can grow if not farmed.  When we arrived here this tree was like a huge Oak tall with growth around the base so much so that we didn’t realise there were actually three trunks.  So I set to and lopped them halfway up then let the branches sprout leaving a few branches to produce olives.  I have to say that it still needs to be pruned again climbing a ladder to cut the branches so we can get at the olives is a risky business at our ages.

But olive trees are a hardy bunch, they have to be up here.  They put down long roots to find water  80 mts down is an underground river and I know that some trees put roots down a lot further than that.  So they have over the centuries found the water,  but they also have to fight the bugs that live in the ground some of which attack a tree from the middle eating it away they then turn into large black beetles which lays eggs in the ground near a tree and so it goes.  The result is that the olive tree will repair itself even when the centre is hollow and this can be a little daunting when hit by lightning, however  the roots may be burnt but the tree still goes on.

And this is just the start, so here

the introduction.

(c)  Michael Douglas Bosc  –  Author

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Remember me? I’m still here – just!!!

Its been a long time since I wrote and this picture just about sums things up.  For a start I shall be pleased when this year is over we do not need another one like it.  Around three months ago we were broken into and robbed, that was bad enough but the wanton damage they did was evil.  So we have spent the past months securing the house and making as sure as we can that its safe.  The Cameras that we used for wildlife are now employed in other parts and a security system linked to somewhere safe is installed (cost a lot but peace of mind at our ages is important).  So the scumbags who did this actually did us a favour.  14 years we have been hidden away up here and nothing like this has ever happened, if we were going away we told certain people and the hunters kept an eye on here.  So here I am with the security people who fitted doors to the house and little house (here when the civil war went past) plus windows and other stuff.  At our ages it humans we are afraid of not the animals whom we share this forest with.

We have also taken the opportunity to repair and re-new the ffz, which is nearly finished.  Having this to do has made us more determined to stay put, but I had to draw the line at my wifes suggestion of putting ABIM’s (anti bastard individual mines) down… but the machine gun nests are ok.

 

My writing

In between all this I have been busy catching up on my writing.

                      

These are three of the books under my pen name Jason D’ebre written for young people and those who love adventure, history sand ghost stories.  They are on Kindle in both e-book and paperback, and can also be found on Kobo and iTunes plus other sites.  The adult books are also on iTunes and Amazon.    If you want a book then Create a Space is there.

And others

The wild boar are still here this is their watering hole and as you can see they make good use of it.  These are the last pictures we took with that camera it was stolen because they thought it had them on it.

The Boys are fine we have them in the little casa whilst we are busy safely tucked away from nasties and they can see out and shout at the other birds. Once the ffz is finished they can come back over and fly around.

Well without getting angry and ranting that’s about all I can say.   Age changes you a little and sometimes brings the hooligan in you to the fore which is no bad thing me thinks.  Now I’m back I shall be here more often so see you all soon.

(c)  Michael Douglas Bosc/Jason D’ebre   author

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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My New Book 

This is my new book Drifting. It’s a cowboy short story which ventures into the unknown. Often things come to me when I am researching or reading other things this was such a time. It is not my normal style or subject, plus ghost stories are quite difficult to write and this was no exception.  As usual you start with an idea then build on it only now you have to remember the ghost, how it came to be and in some cases not reveal this until later in the book, whilst all the time including it in there.  Write and re-write came into this, as I would sometimes forget this rule, but I got there in the end and it has had some good responses – albeit the cover I first put out was the wrong one. As usual it’s on Kindle and Create Space as well as Books2Read.

The Wallow Hole

 

Remember these jokers? They who dug up my bulbs and ate all my saffron bulbs in the process. Well they have decided to make a wallow hole on the lower terrace.  Finding a good place for the camera was a little difficult as the tree has been pruned and the good branches for positioning the cameras have gone.  So I called Spurs into action but the position of the dish was wrong however the pump is just right and providing they don’t come poking around the photos are not bad.

After a windy night I have had to find another position for the camera but at least I have these shots of the little so and so’s. First is the wallow hole in daylight to give you an idea of its position. They have made this originally it was a small – very small – little trench which provided run-off water for two fig trees. We should have known better as the boar decided to use they as rubbing sticks and eventually killed them off.  Then this appeared.

 

So to the pictures of  the little gits having a bath and generally enjoying themselves.

 

(c) Michael Douglas Bosc – Author

 

 

 

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There are some things that you come across something surprising and creative.  Well that’s what happened last year when we went for coffee and a drive along the coast.

We had stopped off at the little restaurant we like for coffee, and sat watching the rain falling and being blown around by the wind.  It was nice to be in the warm, so we ordered cheesecake and relaxed whilst keeping an eye on the weather.  By the time we had finished the rain had stopped so we decided to take a walk along the beach – to walk off the cheesecake…. On our way back to the car we passed these sand sculptures and could not resist taking a look.

Well this year they had some more on display these were a mix of sheep and ‘modern’ sculptures which to me looked more machine than animal or human.

But the effect was the same the little area was full of people looking and taking photographs.  So when we went for a drive and passed the sculptures we just had to stop and take a look.  It took some time to find a parking spot but finally we found a place further along the beach parked and walked back to take a look.  By this time it was getting dusk so the flood lights were on and people were almost queuing to get a look. So here are the sculptures:

These are a find we now look for something to brighten a dull, windy day in winter.  Hope you have a good 2018 of course you could try this yourselves.

(c) Michael Douglas Bosc  – Author

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Where Have The Years Gone

                          

The Prolog
These photographs say a lot. When we first put the FFZ (fly free zone) up we planted a walnut tree, I do like walnuts, along with a vine our friends gave us.  Now as we cannot have a permanent construction with out planning permission we built as you can see 4 pillars then I added some support beams (cut when making a fire break) added a wooden roof then covered the whole thing with very large olive nest.  I then constructed a metal door and frame attached these to the house and covered like the rest of the ffz,  making the complete ffz you can see here.
As you can see it did not take long for either to grow but there were consequences.  The vine grew like billio and the tree just tore away upwards.  So I had to curtail that and keep it at a reasonable height.  But it was the vine that went mad.  It clambered up and over the roof and around the netting (second pic) but in doing so it became heavy and began to destroy the netting (we realised this when we found a snake in the ffz).  So what to do? well I simply trimmed and moved the vine to in front of the little house so it can climb over the frame of the gazebo.  Then I looked at the roof and decided that it was necessary to replace it which I did with corrugated effect roofing, that was a laugh putting that up believe me a broom comes in very handy at those times.  Then I bought some new netting which my wife duly put up and also sealed any gaps she found whilst doing so.  I then sealed the edges where the roof butted up against the walls and using the old roofing covered the entrance in front of the door now we could sit out without being bitten and in the shade whilst enjoying the heat.  Then we got the boys……
The Gardens – Sam’s Garden
                   
 Now my wife loves her flowers and when she decided that the olive tree by the house stayed she decided to make a garden out of it well I should have known.  After filling in the centre and planting bulbs, She then built  a semicircle garden in front of it.  Into this went more bulbs (about the only thing that can survive the hot summers remembering we have very little water up here) the result being that I laid a small patio down so we could sit out and enjoy this garden. As you can see when in flower it’s rather attractive, the bulbs have multiplied over the years and every now and then my wife digs them up and plants the young bulbs in other parts of the garden. After the pigs attack on her saffron I think it’s a good idea.
Meet Bobbin Robbin and his  main man Boris Blackbird
 
Yes his name is spelt like that he told me so after introducing Boris. Now a robin talking to me? I should have known (this will be my theme statement). We were sat having coffee one morning when this little chappy turned up. Not content with getting up close and personal with the wife he had demands.  He hopped under the table and pecked her foot then said you’ve got a drink what about us?  and there you have it I was sent off to find an old dish whilst they sat discussing (yes she can and does talk to the birds and they tweet back) how to set up what was to become known as ‘The Water Bar’ (you can find it on https://asoldierswind.wordpress.com). The fact that my wife could understand what he and the others say makes me wonder…….
So there it is life on the finca past part 1.  Nothing really changes, the redstarts are still with us, but its been a long long dry summer and the garden has taken a bashing. So there really is a lot of work to do, where we start depends on my wife but I have a feeling the beds will be first followed by the pots and tubs then the rest of the garden and something done about that Saffron bed and the birds are returning they sit in the now  – of course I could be wrong……..
(c) Michael Douglas Bosc – author

 

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The Course and The Club  

Once again its race time on the river at Club Nautique.  As you can see its a long way to the bridge where they round the central pillar then row back.  The downward journey is not too bad as they are racing with the flow of the river (about 6knts), however, on the way back it against the flow and a really hard pull. An awful lot of strength is required for this as pulling against a 6knt flow in a large rowing boat with only oars to get you where you want to be is no mean feat. Not here your Oxford or Cambridge boats these are sturdy river boats that have been used on the river for a long time.

              

As you can see from this photo there are safety boats out as well as canoes, plenty of assistance if needed.  So this people, is what these youngsters do every night of the summer for fun. Out in his boat are Pep and Chris two of the people who are always there for the club, today they started the races.  This is an annual event which we try very hard not to miss.

   

The club is always well attended and this year was no exception. As you can see it was very busy, but they have a good system for the food and drinks area.  You went to the two people sitting at the table who were issuing tickets for drinks and food, paid for what you wanted took your ticket to either the bar or BBQ on the other side of the bar – which was doing a roaring trade with kebabs – and collected your fare.

So to the Races

There are such a lot of pictures for the actual races that I shall just post them hope you enjoy.  Starting with the competitors:

The competitors,line up,the off finish and prize giving enjoy

   

   

 

 

And this young lady won a cup because she SWAM across the river  beating the only other competitor a young man by yards.

 

So there you are our day at the races in photographs, friends and life just get better.   Looking forward to next year boys and girls

 

(c)  Michael Douglas Bosc – Author

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Cambrils

Cambrils is set on the coast between Hospitalet d’la Infant and Salou. The coastal road passes through Cambrils flanked on one side by a marina and bar/restaurants on the other. It may only be for a short distance but at this time of the year it is heaving. After the terrorist attack in Barcelona and then the 5 terrorists all wearing bomb vests being shot dead in Cambrils, plus having friends living there we decided to visit and see everyone was ok, Boy what a miskaea to makea.

Explanation

We are often driving through here during the winter stopping off at a little bar in one of the plazas behind the sea front. But last winter we discovered that the bar is closed on Sundays, why? well our theory is that when we went for coffee Valencia was often playing football and they would lose, and when they found out that we were at the bar on those days they asked the bar to close and Valencia began to win. Thing is Valencia are not Barca or Spurs you see…. but I digress.

Cambrils Spirit

                                          

Because this is holiday time and parking is always difficult I decided to approach Cambrils from the Tarragona side. I was right about doing this all the car parks were full, cars were parked on cars in some places, even parked well back from the lovely sandy beaches, all this helped to give out a feeling of safety. As always the police were in full view even some on bikes, this was not a town cowering this was humanity at its best. However, more importantly our friends were safe, luckily none of their families had been injured. People were very shaken but the spirit of Cambrils was not broken.

So we left them to enjoy the sun and headed back to town for a meal in Bar Turo which we haven’t done for a long time. Sitting there reminded me that we needed to sit outside with a pizza and good wine whilst watching the world pass by. Yep normality has returned.

(c) Michael Douglas Bosc – Author

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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