Erica writes a short piece each month for the TOWN CRIER MAGAZINE which is delivered to homes in Tunbridge Wells, Crowborough and the surrounding districts. She writes under the name of Scoop Adams.
May 2013 Erica has stopped writing for the Town Crier. Like the Norwegian Blue in the Dead Parrot Sketch, Scoop Adams is no more.
May 2013 Erica has stopped writing for the Town Crier. Like the Norwegian Blue in the Dead Parrot Sketch, Scoop Adams is no more.
S COO COO P ADAMS April 2013 published article
Hi, Eric the pigeon here: address - the derelict cinema in Tunbridge Wells. For twelve years, generations of our family have lived companionably with various vermin in the shabby chic of the old Ritz and its adjacent buildings. However, worries emerged on the 18th February when Ratty sneaked into the Council meeting over the road at the Town Hall. He regularly attends and hadn’t been expecting anything special but what transpired shook him to the ends of his whiskers.
Breathlessly, he scuttled back and, at a hastily-convened meeting he revealed what he had heard. ‘The council has received a Section 80 Notice planning notification from the owners of our home,’ he squealed. ‘And they must respond within seven days with a return notification setting out the conditions necessary to control the process of demolition.’
Anguished cries of ‘DEMOLITION!!’ cut through the turgid air. ‘Where shall we go?’ squeaked a baby rat.
Silence descended. Then the strong deep caw of a visiting crow boomed out: ‘There’s The Crowborough Cross Pub eight miles up the road: recently closed down and rumoured to become the next grotspot.’
Excited chattering greeted this revelation.
Ratty leapt onto the stage where a shaft of sunlight created a giant rat shadow onto the tatty screen. ‘With the normal human inefficiency another twelve years could elapse before our home is demolished,’ he declared, ‘but this Crowborough venue must be explored. ‘Eric, fly over there and take a look.’
Watch this space!!!
Hi, Eric the pigeon here: address - the derelict cinema in Tunbridge Wells. For twelve years, generations of our family have lived companionably with various vermin in the shabby chic of the old Ritz and its adjacent buildings. However, worries emerged on the 18th February when Ratty sneaked into the Council meeting over the road at the Town Hall. He regularly attends and hadn’t been expecting anything special but what transpired shook him to the ends of his whiskers.
Breathlessly, he scuttled back and, at a hastily-convened meeting he revealed what he had heard. ‘The council has received a Section 80 Notice planning notification from the owners of our home,’ he squealed. ‘And they must respond within seven days with a return notification setting out the conditions necessary to control the process of demolition.’
Anguished cries of ‘DEMOLITION!!’ cut through the turgid air. ‘Where shall we go?’ squeaked a baby rat.
Silence descended. Then the strong deep caw of a visiting crow boomed out: ‘There’s The Crowborough Cross Pub eight miles up the road: recently closed down and rumoured to become the next grotspot.’
Excited chattering greeted this revelation.
Ratty leapt onto the stage where a shaft of sunlight created a giant rat shadow onto the tatty screen. ‘With the normal human inefficiency another twelve years could elapse before our home is demolished,’ he declared, ‘but this Crowborough venue must be explored. ‘Eric, fly over there and take a look.’
Watch this space!!!
SCOOP ADAMS February/March 2013 published article
The Spring has sprung, the old rhyme starts, and, sure enough, daffodils abound. But what about the Chalybeate Spring on the Pantiles? That hasn’t been springing for over a year now because the water is contaminated. Lord North, who discovered the health-giving water must be turning in his grave. That, of course, would make him Lord South if he did a full half turn! But, seriously, something should be done pronto about this non-functioning tourist non-attraction.
The rhyme continues the grass has ris, I wonder where the birdies is, Living here, I would alter that to I wonder where the vipers is because in Ashdown Forest, Crowborough Country Park and the surrounding countryside the viper is about to emerge from hibernation. Oh yes it is. Sorry, that’s slipped in from December.
The male viper, or adder as it’s also known, appears in early spring, the females about a month later. I imagine it gives the males time to find out where they are without asking so that when their lady-loves appear full attention can be given to mating. Human men, please note – on both counts!
The most distinctive features of vipers are the dark V or X on top of their heads and the zigzag stripe along their backs. Very beautiful but do not attempt to touch this venomous snake because, if disturbed, it’s liable to bite. It’s rather like the foolhardiness of interfering with a normally docile man who is intent on watching some sport.
Ten shades of pink appear at the end of Erica Adams’ saucy comic novel ‘The Pig and I’. Can you guess what they are?!!
The Spring has sprung, the old rhyme starts, and, sure enough, daffodils abound. But what about the Chalybeate Spring on the Pantiles? That hasn’t been springing for over a year now because the water is contaminated. Lord North, who discovered the health-giving water must be turning in his grave. That, of course, would make him Lord South if he did a full half turn! But, seriously, something should be done pronto about this non-functioning tourist non-attraction.
The rhyme continues the grass has ris, I wonder where the birdies is, Living here, I would alter that to I wonder where the vipers is because in Ashdown Forest, Crowborough Country Park and the surrounding countryside the viper is about to emerge from hibernation. Oh yes it is. Sorry, that’s slipped in from December.
The male viper, or adder as it’s also known, appears in early spring, the females about a month later. I imagine it gives the males time to find out where they are without asking so that when their lady-loves appear full attention can be given to mating. Human men, please note – on both counts!
The most distinctive features of vipers are the dark V or X on top of their heads and the zigzag stripe along their backs. Very beautiful but do not attempt to touch this venomous snake because, if disturbed, it’s liable to bite. It’s rather like the foolhardiness of interfering with a normally docile man who is intent on watching some sport.
Ten shades of pink appear at the end of Erica Adams’ saucy comic novel ‘The Pig and I’. Can you guess what they are?!!
SCOOP ADAMS January 2013 published article
Travelling back from Charing Cross to Tunbridge Wells, I couldn’t help overhearing a woman chatting on her mobile, so I scribbled the conversation down. It was pretty much as follows:-
‘Yeah, yeah, twenty-thirteen already. Can’t believe it. Yeah, last year was an eventful year for me on the menopause front but at long last it’s over. Unfortunately, the money I thought I was going to save on the usual monthly paraphernalia was immediately taken up on hearing aid batteries. The National Health provides them free of course, but only if you use their contraptions, which I don’t.
Ironic isn’t it: you spend years looking forward to drawing your old-age pension and the prospect of enjoying yourself at last and, just as the good life is in sight, your ears and memory start to pack up. What bugs me is since I’ve had hearing aids Bernie has stopped mumbling. Typical. If he’d have enunciated clearer sooner I’d’ve saved over three thousand pounds. Anyway, although I can hear what he says now, it’s an advantage having aids ‘cos I can switch them off when he’s cracking on about the Odeon site debacle or the unfairness of Crowborough having free parking while we in T W have to pay through the nose.
We’re nearly at my stop so I wish you and Percy - oops, sorry, my memory! Last time we spoke you told me he’d passed away. Not passed away? That he was gay! Ha ha, honestly, my ears! Happy New Year, anyway.
Read Freda Field’s New Year resolutions in Erica Adams’ novel ‘The Pig and I’. Sales not yet up with ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’, more like Thirty Shades of Pink to be honest.
Travelling back from Charing Cross to Tunbridge Wells, I couldn’t help overhearing a woman chatting on her mobile, so I scribbled the conversation down. It was pretty much as follows:-
‘Yeah, yeah, twenty-thirteen already. Can’t believe it. Yeah, last year was an eventful year for me on the menopause front but at long last it’s over. Unfortunately, the money I thought I was going to save on the usual monthly paraphernalia was immediately taken up on hearing aid batteries. The National Health provides them free of course, but only if you use their contraptions, which I don’t.
Ironic isn’t it: you spend years looking forward to drawing your old-age pension and the prospect of enjoying yourself at last and, just as the good life is in sight, your ears and memory start to pack up. What bugs me is since I’ve had hearing aids Bernie has stopped mumbling. Typical. If he’d have enunciated clearer sooner I’d’ve saved over three thousand pounds. Anyway, although I can hear what he says now, it’s an advantage having aids ‘cos I can switch them off when he’s cracking on about the Odeon site debacle or the unfairness of Crowborough having free parking while we in T W have to pay through the nose.
We’re nearly at my stop so I wish you and Percy - oops, sorry, my memory! Last time we spoke you told me he’d passed away. Not passed away? That he was gay! Ha ha, honestly, my ears! Happy New Year, anyway.
Read Freda Field’s New Year resolutions in Erica Adams’ novel ‘The Pig and I’. Sales not yet up with ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’, more like Thirty Shades of Pink to be honest.
