The Club has its own newsletter – The Circular – which is published every two months. Regular features include the Chairman’s Chat, news from the Northern Federation, details of forthcoming events, competition results and a crossword. Until the artist ran out of ideas, a strip cartoon was also featured. Now one of our members draws a cartoon, ususally based on the last demonstration. (A crossword and a strip cartoon can be found by clicking on the appropriate button.) Any remaining pages are filled with articles by members, or by articles culled (with permission!) from other clubs’ newsletters.
Here's a poem from a recent issue:
’Tis here in the shade of the sycamore tree
I sit quietly reading, the cat on my knee.
The sunshine is warm, there’s no cloud in the sky –
A beautiful day at the end of July.
The hum of the lathe is a comforting sound,
With humming from turner re-echoing round.
Oh, happy the man by his hobby fulfilled,
Creating such beauty with hands that are skilled.
Then idly I ponder on what’s being made;
But please, no more bowls, ’cos I’m sadly afraid
We must build an extension if folks want to see ’em –
Some people add bathrooms; we need a museum!
Then all of a sudden, a crisis! Oh, dear!
Such words are not fit for a lady to hear.
I can guess what has happened – no need to explain –
That stupid old bowl gouge has ‘dug-in’ again!
* * * * *
I put on the kettle, and went to the shed;
“A nice cup of tea, dear?” was all that I said.
“Don’t worry about it; I’m sure it won’t matter –
Just make the thing smaller, and call it a platter.”
Now I’m in Ward 9 with a bowl on my head;
A doctor and nurse at the side of my bed.
This tale has a moral; it’s not very long –
Just leave him alone when the turning goes wrong!
This poem first appeared in Issue no 4 of The Circular (July 1993).
It was contributed by our first Chairman, the late Len Jones, who adapted it from lines by an unknown Australian author.