Commis chef.

My wife has just asked what we would like for supper and both myself and our daughter decided that pasta was indeed the choice of both of us which seemed at the time to be a simple decision as to what to eat, but no.

Some time later my presence in the kitchen was requested where I was told we were having for tonight’s repast, meatloaf and my assistance was required to act as her commis chef.

I think I’m what you might call a lazy eater in as much that I’d rather starve to death than have any input with regard to cooking and am quite able to sustain myself with biscuits, battenburg cake, the odd banana or peach yogurt if fruit is required in my diet and of course copious quantities of lager to quench my thirst of an evening.

My kitchen skills are best described as non existent and I’m quite happy for them to remain at that standard especially as my wife is a very talented chef  but I was asked if I could put some stale bread in the wizzy machine and make breadcrumbs.

I suspect I’m not the only man who feigns complete incompetence in an effort to be relieved of certain duties especially with regard to the kitchen but as I’d managed to produce the breadcrumbs and was on somewhat of a high I thought I’d risk grating the cheese for the cauliflower cheese.

Overcome with success I thought I would leave whilst I was on a winning streak and came to my desk to regale the story on this blog having picked up a can of lager on the way.

Having started on a food related item I thought I would continue in the same vein with the tale of the lonesome pheasant, a bird who has appeared in our garden at this time of year for the past three years.

Now I know absolutely nothing of the life of pheasants except even I as a townie know they are bred to be shot and eaten which seems a bit if a shame as they are quite a pleasant looking bird with a degree of style about their demeanour although my wife who has considerably more experience of country ways expressed the opinion that they look better in a cooking pot.

Personally I have always regarded the fauna that lives in the woods and our garden as decorative, both the fluffy bunny rabbits and the pheasants and the like.

Having done some research into pheasants it seems they can be shot between 1st October and 1st February in England, Wales and Scotland so I imagine that if you survive the slaughter as a pheasant you must have been fairly lucky.

This year the pheasant appeared with a companion which the wife said was another male only smaller which set me wondering if the larger bird was in fact a survivor from two previous years of carnage who had perhaps hidden in the woods at the back of our garden, I’d like to think so.

During the course of writing this blog my wife has duly produced the meat loaf dish of which I spoke earlier and my what a feast, we all thought the juxtaposition of the meatloaf and the jalapenos together with the cauliflower cheese was indeed a culinary  delight and we all expressed the opinion that it was very nice, we’re not ones for overstatement in our house.




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I have no recollections of being a child and playing in the snow, I suppose I must have done it but as I was adopted and my parents were always a tad over protective there is a possibility that I may not have done.

I do remember walking to the bus stop to catch the bus to school and wearing short trousers as you did in those days and upon arriving at school having to stand about in the freezing cold until assembly when we were allowed into the school; all very character building I’m sure.

When I became a teenager I had a toboggan which my father who had very limited woodworking skills had paid someone to make for me which weighed a ton and was most unwieldy which I used to drag to the forest and shoot down the slopes emulating the members of the St Moritz Bobsleigh Club.

Later at school making a slide by tramping the snow down the hill until it became sheet ice whereupon all the boys would run as fast as they could from the top and slide to the bottom shooting off the jump at the end at tremendous speed, strangely I recollect there never having been any serious injury ever and all of this achieved without the aid of any form of Health and Safety input at all.

As time went by we put aside these childish pastimes and took up more adult pursuits like car rallying where once again snow would take it’s place in the scheme of things for when the snow arrived I would dash off to the nearest deserted car park to practice my car control perfecting the handbrake turn and the reverse flip to return home on opposite lock round every corner, ah happy days!

Now time has passed and my opinion on the joys of the arrival of snow have changed considerably, I find myself wanting to stay indoors and watch it from the safety of a warm room cosseted by a nice wood burning stove although the perils of getting the wood from the wood shed are ever present.

Only yesterday I went to get some wood and found myself teetering about on the snow when I realised I was waddling in the fashion of an old codger and thought to make a mental note to self to avoid falling and breaking my hip as all old folk seem to do this time of year if at all possible.

I dropped my wife down the road this morning to get her hair done and have to go back and pick her up later, unfortunately the snow seems to be coming back with a vengeance so I’m not looking forward to the return journey both from the point of view of being out in the cold and also as I’m fairly certain that the vast majority of the other road users out today will not have spent their youth perfecting their driving skills in snow covered car parks which leaves their abilities in this type of weather sadly lacking especially as it is becoming quite rare to have snow at all in the south of England.

I was unsure how to finish this post should I wait and collect my wife assuming it’s humanly possible and regale you with tales of heroism fighting our way home through vast snow drifts or should I leave it as a cliffhanger with you, dear reader wondering if you would ever hear from me again?

I plumped for the latter.

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The Battle of Barking Creek.

At last The Battle of Barking Creek is now available in paperback on   


Also now available on my new website  

You will be able to purchase the books and listen to the play by following the links.

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The Plays Wot I Wrote, including the story of The Battle of Barking Creek.

Rather belatedly I have exciting news about The Plays Wot I Wrote, I can now confirm that this hugely fascinating collection of plays is now available in paperback form.

I know that to self publicise may in certain circles be considered bad form but I really must encourage you all to purchase this fine collection of plays, available on and

For any film producers who may be reading this I would dearly love you to read the story of The Battle of Barking Creek which tells the true story of a friendly fire incident which took place on the third day of World War Two where two of our airmen were shot down resulting in the death of one of them.

I have written the story from the point of view of the Courts Martial which took place at Bentley Priory but the story cries out to be made into a full length feature film.

To read the The Plays Wot I Wrote I would ask you to follow the link above and purchase this moderately priced book.

Thank you.


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The Plays Wot I Wrote.

At last I have put some of the plays that I wrote on line for your edification and delight. They are available on or or try the following link.

The Plays Wot I Wrote.

the plays wot I wrote ebook cover

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What to get for the man who has everything?

Yet again I am trying to drag myself into the 21st century by opening yet another on-line emporium, which as the title suggests is exactly what it says on the tin.

If you would be so kind as to visit the site

I would be most grateful if whilst there you would consider making a purchase which would enable me to receive a small remuneration, which as my funds are dwindling would assist in the upkeep of my wife, children, dogs, Bentleys and other classic cars.

Thanking you in anticipation,

Joe Wells.



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Thirty pieces of silver.

Life in the country is fairly quiet during the winter months, at least it is with regard to any activities of an outdoor nature as far as I’m concerned. I am a wimp where the cold weather is concerned, I could no more walk to the South Pole than fly and as for defending my Countries honour fighting in a trench up to my neck in freezing cold water it’s definitely not my forte. In my imagination I always envisaged myself as the dashing World War Two Spitfire pilot, whizzing about the countryside in a 1936 MG TA to join my Squadron, win a DFC, grow a splendid handlebar moustache and be recognised as one of the foremost air aces of the period. However in real life I suspect I would be better employed as a member of ENSA performing to entertain the troops and proving the acronym Every Night Something Awful. Yet again I have digressed from my original point about The Thirty Pieces of Silver and the fact that I have sold out to some extent by producing an on line emporium retailing hoodies and baseball hats for people who have no idea which way their head is facing. There is a link to said emporium which should be

but as it seems to be constantly changing and not going to the required page I have temporarily given up the idea of online retail. Myself I shall be sticking with the tried and tested tweed suit although if one were ever called upon to spend time up to your neck in water in a World War One trench, if it were possible to slip one of these hoodie style garments under your greatcoat I’m sure it would help to alleviate the symptoms of frostbite no end. Best wishes and toodle pip to you all.

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