John D Scotcher
When I was a boy, no more perhaps than seven or eight, I had the opportunity to go camping with my cub group. On the second day I found myself caught short at lunch time, and thus made my way from the large tent where we all sat to eat, through the icy, driving rain (it was a typical July in England) and across the games field to the little tent-cubicles that held the portable toilets. Once safely zipped into the toilet tent I sat down to get on with the job at hand, glad to be out of the wet and windy weather and began to contemplate the questions that occupy the mind of an eight year old.
Had I more experience with camping, perhaps it would have occurred to me that tent pegs can loosen in very wet weather, that toilet tents are at best flimsy affairs and that the gusts of wind blowing across the games field were probably hitting ten on the Beaufort scale. However, it’s only been in latter years that I have come to love the great outdoors. At the time, it was simply a weekend to be endured so I could get home and curl up with a book. So when the tent blew away, leaving me sitting, little grey shorts and pants (that likely had my name sewn into them) hanging down by my skinny ankles, I was more shocked than embarrassed.
When the thirty or so cub scouts sitting in the eating tent and looking out across the field began to point and titter with increasing volume, then the embarrassment did kick in. Yet I did learn two valuable lessons from the experience. The first; very little will put a cub scout off his lunch, and the second; if people are going to laugh at you, you should try your best to make it because you want them to.
If you are good enough to take the time to read my blog, I suspect you will find out a great deal more. Most of which will be in no way related to cub scouts.
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The Boy In Winter's Grasp
by John D Scotcher
Christmas 1914. Christopher Flyte is sent home in disgrace from school to the sleepy English village of Alton. He meets the mysterious traveler, Bailey - who fills his head with stories of King Arthur. The more Christopher hears, the more he suspects that Bailey's stories are more than just myths. Soon, Christoper is a pawn in a game that has been playing out for centuries...
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