A Noel Guthrie Acrylic on canvas

A Noel Guthrie Acrylic on canvas
The Cockabully Hunters --- from an original painting by Noel Guthrie

Monday, 22 August 2016

Tom Burnett

                                    Tom Burnett

From one of my latest books, Ballard of Ernie Slow, I bring readers of my blog a little poem entitled Tom Burnett.

These few verses, penned by the late Ernie Slow, could well have passed as a eulogy on this man's death.  They depict the general public’s tribute to Thomas David Burnett’s work with the Downlands Water Scheme, during the time of the Great Depression during the early 1900’s.

T. D. as this man was affectionately known, passed away in November 1941.
His final resting place is at Rock Etam, Mount Cook Station.  A special secluded spot, where he continues his watch over his beloved mountains.


Tom Burnett

                                    Beneath Aorangi’s might crown
                                    Where tussocks are golden brown
                                    There lies a hero of renown
                                    Tom Burnett.

                                    He likes the girls who can mend and cook
                                    And at the naughty ones he’d never look
                                    He reads them like an open book
                                    Tom Burnett.

                                    He likes the mountains clothed in trees
                                    To shelter stock from snow and breeze
                                    And dog with either lice, or fleas
                                    Tom Burnett.

                                    Of mountains, he is very fond
                                    Just like a wild duck on a pond
                                    His word alas, ‘tis his bond
                                    Tom Burnett.

                                    So, let him sleep near Aorangi’s crown
                                    And when the world goes upside down
                                    He’ll enter heaven with a frown
                                    Tom Burnett.



Tuesday, 16 August 2016

Nothing Personal

Nothing Personal

A group of foreign tourists was making their way around the South Island of New Zealand. 
Rather than visit those major towns and cities, they chose to visit country villages and smaller towns instead, where they thought they would be more able to observe local customs.
Travelling through the Mackenzie Country, this small group stopped at the Gladstone Hotel to taste the local hospitality for lunch and a refreshing sup on some local beverage.

At the time there was a well-known character behind the bar.  Tall and rather slim, Jeb was a bit of a comic even on his bad days.  
One member of the group wandered around the bar-room looking at all the photo's of celebrities and other items of local history. He spoke with Jeb about the history of the town.
As Jeb filled his customer's glasses, one youngish member of the party began to study the lunch menu.
Eventually, he asked Jeb what was the days special?

"Well" retorted Jeb, "today we have chicken on a bed of rice with green beans and almonds, and a side salad."
"Aw man,  That sounds great.  How do you prepare the chicken?"
"Well,"  Jeb responded. "We break it to him gently of course, and then we tell him it's nothing personal!" 

Have a nice day.