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    David Weaver wonders.

    Are there any Weavers still out there, used to be thousands? Regards, David Weaver
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    Street Urchins

    Does anyone know anything about the street urchins who guarded the cars of Aston Villa supporters, for home games, around the surrounding streets? I'm talking both pre and after the war. Regards, David.
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    Escaped Lions

    Does anyone remember the year the lion escaped from the circus at The Onion Fair next to Aston Church? Mum used to tell me about it so it would have been before the nineteen thirties or thereabouts. Thanks, David Weaver.
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    'Rosie Pham'

    ‘Rosie Pham’ David Weaver © When Rosie Pham moved into the empty shop in Main Street it caused quite a stir. The townsfolk watched with interest as she hurriedly unpacked cooking equipment, as if intending to open her Vietnamese restaurant that very afternoon. We’d heard on the grapevine she was...
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    'The Secret Garden'

    ‘The Secret Garden’ David Weaver ã There was no doubt the boy’s old friend, Ernie Plunket, was dead, “Blown to Smithereens by Hitler”, according to his mother. He wasn’t supposed to be listening to such grown up talk, when she broke the sad news to his father, but an eight year olds curiosity...
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    MY Profile Not sure if this is the correct place to put it.

    It has been suggested I write a profile of myself for the site. This I find rather difficult because nothing much has happened to me, compared to many others with more interesting lives, but here goes and you can make of it what you will. Mum and Dad married in Aston Church and we kids, seven of...
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    'Mists of time'

    ‘Mists of time’ David Weaver © I drove through the valley this morning, to a place called, ‘I know not where’. It’s a favourite haunt I remember so well, dreaming of love I once shared. I turned in the car at one empty space, at first lonely with no one to see. But then I was joined by a...
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    'The Snowball'

    ‘The Snowball’ David Weaver © It was wartime in Birmingham, England, and the boy sitting next to Billy in class could never understand why he always got away with his disruptive behaviour. Billy never received the cane from the teachers, or made to sit in the cold corridor to contemplate a...
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    'A Piece Of Cord

    ‘A PIECE OF CORD’ David Weaver. © I’ve met some beautiful women in my time but Mrs Widderson wasn’t one of them. She was what you’d call a bit of a character, with a quick wit that bubbled out of her short dumpling shaped body. Her features were plain with hair that reminded me of a mohair...
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    'The Monsters of Mullockgoolie'

    ‘The Monsters of Mullockgoolie’ David Weaver © Sitting in the bar of ‘The Drover’s Dog’ with Fatso McGinty, is one of life’s pleasures. His collection of anecdotes about the ‘Monsters of Mullockgoolie’, are legendary. After all, he swears he stumbled across one near Misery Creek. Fatso, the...
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    ‘Bluey’ David Weaver.ã In 1961, the dense bush on the outskirts of Darwin, was infested with snakes and as my dog was madly exploring in the long grass I went after her for they often become victims of their own stupidity in country like that Whilst searching I discovered a row of graves...
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    ''The Chef''

    ‘The Chef’ David Weaver ã I must admit that I have met some fine chef’s in my travels, but none finer than Cedric Ballamy. I firmly believe that given an old boot from the municipal tip, Cedric could turn it into a gastronomic delight, with the hungry hordes fighting each other for the first...
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    'Thanks for the memories'

    ‘Thanks for the Memories’ By David Weaver © He was my best mate you see. One of those blokes you get along with from the very first meeting, a born comedian with the world as his stage, and we the audience clapping enthusiastically. He was less aggressive than me, and more inclined to put his...
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    'Two Stars'

    ‘Two Stars’ David Weaver © Have you felt my hands upon you, in the valley of no return? Where the wind blew from forever, in the place where the deserts burn. When you sighed in your contentment, at our gentle act of love? As the stars showed their approval, from their watching place above...
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    My Secret Place

    ‘My Secret Place’ David Weaver ã Have I told you of my secret place, a land that is full of dreams? Been exploring it for many years, much shorter than that it seems. I’ve never told of this secret, it was only mine to share. For I feared the telling of it, would bring other eyes to...
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    'Footsteps in the sand'

    ‘Footsteps in the sand’ David Weaver © Remember walking through the desert of life, four footsteps cutting deep in the sand. Far into the distance stretches a lifetime of love, as we marched boldly on hand in hand. When only two footsteps were all you could see, as I strode into the evening...
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    'The Equinox'

    ‘The Equinox’ David Weaver © When my schoolteacher, Ticker Bagshaw, asked me to explain ‘The Equinox’ to the class of budding geniuses, to which I belonged, the puzzled expression on my pimply face made it quite obvious to the world that I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. Being a...
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    'Pretty Girl'

    ‘Pretty Girl’ David Weaver © Charley Dingo placed his heavy hunting spear against the tree and turned to face Pretty Girl, who was sitting by the fire cooking a freshly caught turtle. She was now no more than skin and bone, and since the fire ants had entered her stomach, two wet seasons back...
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    'The old Stone Bridge'

    THE OLD STONE BRIDGE By David Weaver © I gazed from the wall of the old stone bridge, into the river below. Thoughts wandering back to when I was young, just a lovesick youth full of show. I remembered the stepping stones, waiting, as they had for a million feet. Someone had placed them at the...
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    'Aunt Mildred'

    ‘Tales from Mullockgoolie’ ‘Aunt Mildred’ David Weaver ã 749 My old Aunt Mildred is as tough as a red gum stump and as prickly as a cranky echidna on an ants nest, but even she would have to admit she’s starting to fall apart at the seams. The municipal councillors called an extraordinary...