It's the time of year when the disasters of the season manifest themselves in clearing every supermarket shelf of dubious spices and concoctions, foreign-sounding meat items, cheese from a species of Bulgarian sheep, and a lorry load of disliked Brussels sprouts...
I also have a fear of running out of washing-up liquid around now, and am unable to describe this syndrome - but it is already affecting me more than somewhat!
Choosing a bottle of brandy is always a pleasure, and spending ages peering at the bottom shelf in Waitrose is a worthwhile and pleasurable occupation, but what makes such a decision rely on the Poirot-style inspection of the whole shelf, the eventual choice, and somehow, without looking, a different bottle is picked up, with hardly a glance, and placed lovingly in the trolley? The same happened the other day with some sort of flavoured olive oil!
I am just thirty pounds short of my budget already, and it's still only half-way through December...
Last week, Scrobs had the pleasure - and the enjoyment of such huge fun - of joining in with the Grandchildren's Carol Concert in Tonbridge!
The church was packed, and the singing and musical extravaganza was so utterly rewarding, as well as a marvellous celebration of our great British Christian Society!
There was a long programme of pieces, some singing, some old favourites, like 'The Snowman', (the Daughters excelled in the descant of 'Come all ye Faithful', a trait instilled by their fabulous music teacher all those years ago), and my eldest Grand daughter was playing in her first ever flute concert!
One act also jumped out. It was a performance - with additional actions of a song I'd never heard of, and here is the original version played and sung by Fleet Foxes...
And here is a version which the older girls and boys presented with such fantastic skill and enjoyable excitement as their movements and singing just rang through the church!
I don't remember ever hearing such beautiful music performed by so many gorgeous, talented girls and boys!
Some time ago, 1989 to be exact, we were moving house to 'The Turrets', and while the days were fraught with packing-up and the normal stress one had, even back then, with changing the family life forever, we sometimes collapsed in front of the TV by late evening, usually with a tincture!
One particular programme jumped out from the screen and caught our imagination, and also concentration and delight at such superb stories and great acting, that we vowed that when we'd settled in, we'd revisit the series again!
But we'd packed the VCR...
Since then I've tried to get hold of reasonably priced copies, and had very little luck - in fact none at all!
But I've found the b*****d! At long last!
I watched the first episode just last evening, and it is still as fabulous as it was when we first watched it all those years ago!
When the episode had finished, I looked online to get more information, as Jonathan Hyde's acting describes an incredibly good barrister in the part, he is brilliant, but I didn't realise that his wife is Isobel Buchanan, who also sings one of my most favourite choral pieces by Duncan Browne...
I had managed to record the ending theme music from an old library cassette once, and was disappointed at the quality of course - I think I've mentioned this before somewhere, and here it is again in better condition...
The whole programme was made back before the BBC manipulated their programmes with curious DEI interference, and they probably couldn't replicate the true stories today, but there again, they'd not even try with a certain Mr Lammy fiddling around with stopping juries altogether...
There's a lot of info on Edward Marshall Hall online, but with the combination of the actor, and the gorgeous singing, I'm rationing each programme to one a night, otherwise I'll never get to my bed...
As to be expected, there was uproar at the Sodden Prickney Village Council meeting last Thursday, when it was discovered that an article in The Bugle had been altered to give a completely different interpretation of Cllr Basil Kalashnikov's address at the village fete, back in the Summer.
What was printed, was under the heading, 'Bollocks to the Sods', where in fact, what he'd actually said, was, 'Both Councillor Baggage and I are happy to introduce new reports on the local football team in the village, which is known colloquially to many as 'The Sods'. The village purchase of the strip will include boots and lots of socks!
PC Lumbersnatch has been informed, but as he is away having a 'gentleman's inconvenience' operation, there is some delay, not to say confusion, as to why the interference in the actual oration by Cllr Kalashnikov was actually mis-reported, so a committee, consisting of Cllrs Molestrangler, Newt, Iodine, Flange, D'Artagnan-Minge, Trumpet and Groat has been assembled to get to the bottom of the issue, or rather just above the hem of Edwina Baggage's Janet Regers!
Cllr Baggage has been summoned to the council to explain the reasons why her reporting was so blatantly 'bicyclist', and how on earth the mistake had been made, when both Ms Baggage and her Editor, Wing Commander Largely-Knobbs RAF (Retd.), are keen protaganists of the sport, which also entails several measures of Glenmorangie before the event, and a Castella afterwards! The date for the dressing-down has not been set yet, as the committee has decided to do more investigation, possibly because Cllr Baggage refuses to listen to anyone who even mentions the obfuscation, and therefore, nobody will probably ever be responsible for a satisfactory outcome of what has been unequivocal pandemonium in the tangible microcosm of such a small village!
I was saddened to learn about John Lodge dying a couple of weeks ago.
I first saw The Moody Blues on a TV show - probably 'Top of the pops', back around 1965. I was due to go back to school, far away from home, and the old hormones were buzzing more than somewhat, as the 'video' used in 'Go now' had a vision of a gorgeous long-blonde-haired girl walking away from the camera in sad circumstances!
We all talked long and hard about the impact this song had among the dormitories of hell, and Denny Laine's voice reverberated for some time after getting back to history, maths and chemistry classes!
Years later - well, not that many actually - I was working in Westminster in a rather stuffy surveyors' office, and one of the chaps there lent me the Moody Blues album, 'On the threshold of a dream'. I was hooked - totally mesmerised by the harmonies, the skills, and the passion of the songs!
Fast forward to about a couple of years ago...
Senora O'Blene was clearly unwell. Things weren't right, but as she was so mentally strong, there was never going to be any issue made of the situation. So I took over some of the 'duties' needed to keep 'The Turrets' going, and with her continual advice, and also a few tinctures on a regular basis, we had many months of happiness and joy!
One job I had was doing the cooking! I'd suggest something, she'd agree or disagree, and from then on, I'd rush between kitchen and living room, asking advice, getting tips, laughing, etc., and it worked quite well actually! While I was fiddling around with unfamiliar utensils, I'd get Spotify to choose some songs, and the above production just leapt out of the speakers. I really was transfixed at the simplicity, and the feeling of the music, and I played it constantly, as I'd never heard it before!
As chums here know, Senora O'Blene had to leave us last year, and life is still adjusting, but as this song was on the list for her funeral, the more I hear it, the more it 'reverberates'!
John Lodge was the bass player on the song, and since 1965, emotions really haven't changed that much, for which I'm eternally grateful and even now, I realise what a lucky chap I was and still am!
