Scrobs - and Mrs Scroblene - have decided not to be involved with any North or South Pole expeditions.
It has been a difficult decision, we were all ready with padded jackets, big boots, a warm coat for JRT, and all the trimmings like lemon juice and sugar sweeties, but it came home to us just today...
It's just too damn cold!
We passed the village pond which was iced over, and had the two resident ducks retired to a quiet corner under the trees, and there was the resident feeder, chucking bread all over the place for the ducks, and the rats, and the seagulls, all of which meant that we were not ready for cold weather!
I leaked from the eyes. the nose, the ears, and also dribbled because the temperature was 0 degrees...
Not good for future years, although JRT liked bouncing among the snow, until she realised it was so bloody cold and possibly affected the unmentioneables...
18 comments:
Don't worry about it mate. It's all this global weather stuff. We are currently being inundated with daily humongous violent late-afternoon storms (quite normal for this time of year) with lots of brilliant lightning displays and crashing thunder. Doesn't bother us much - but it is a b****r as it stuffs up the satellite signal just as something we want to see starts!
I've been promising the kids snow all winter and all we have had is rain...I'm a bad dad.
For us it's the lack of sun. We prefer a winter of crisp sunny days when it can be a pleasure to go out for a brisk walk.
Are you sure it's the cold and not just ... old ???
(I haven't been able to face a winter camp for years now.)
Gracious! A warming Gin and Milk is all a grown man needs to keep out the nip.
Thanks, Reevers!
YD is often around your way, and reports these incidents regularly, but at least it's not that cold...
Plenty of time, Thud!
Chums took their family from Oz to France, and they hardly saw any snow there either!
Trouble is, Mr H, JRT stops every few yards for a prolonged sniff, so we never get a head of steam!
Modo! My dear friend!
I trust all is well in the Wayfarer Deluxe?
As for gin and milk, I have to admit that the mixture had never occurred to me...
I'll try anything several times though!
Shh... It's Hilary Spangler Bellé-Sauvage. If word got around that Modo was back in Blighty (not that he is - perish the thought, man's a blackguard...) there would be the Hullabaloo and Hell's Bells would ring in Whitehall. Modo died two year ago of the Marasmus in Panama City - (he was lured there with a promise of a low cost lifestyle). I was an associate of his elder brother Barthelme, and arranged to have his body recovered for interment in the family vault at St Thomas of Canterbury
Winchelsea. It was a short service with but four in attendance - save for the clergyman - T.P. Fuller, Oliver Gosling, and his old aide de camp D.C. Warmington, and ofcourse myself. It was of course necessary to put a stake through his heart and cut his head off.
Anyhow..! It's Michael now is it? Is that anything to do with distancing yourself from the allegations of exposing yourself to passing commuter trains at Sevenoaks?
Yo Ho!
B-S
Well, well, well!
Winchelsea church, eh? Had he been buried there around 1972, I'd have probably been able to join you there ans pay my respects (and a small debt of a few splonders for services rendered), as The New Inn opposite was the very watering hole where all my pocket money went on good beer, friends and more!
I do hope that Messrs Fuller, Gosling and Warmington are well and as comfortable as possible under the circumstances! Their presence is sorely missed when so many good people just fade away, and take up pole dancing, vole-weaving or whatever!
Michael is my maiden name, as I occasionally break into Mrs Scroblene's inner sanctum, and use her computer, and the less said about that, the better...
I see that you now have moved to new premises,and will visit when the effect of the previous evening's tinctures have worn off!
Do you recall the Butcher? I forget his name... it was the only place for lights, according to my good lady (now gone on before).
I do not recall attending any funeral. You must have been mistaken.
The butcher? No, I'm afraid not, as I only ever went there in the evenings, and met the local gentry, and all the other reprobates, whose names I can recall to a tee...
I did do some work on the grocer's shop there in 1973, and he also used to deliver as far as Udimore...
Spike Milligan is planted in Winchelsea, and his former home overlooked that particular view!
After several pints of Don's JC, Mr F, I'm surprised anyone could remember who they were, let alone where they were!
Or were you in the other pub that day...?
I am fond of the William the Conqueror in Rye Harbour, I think it might be the varnished tongue and groove in the bar reminds One of Nanny's retirement bed sit.
The Conk is a fine pub, and was a regular watering hole for Scrobs Senior!
I haven't been back there for thirty years, coming on fifty...
Post a Comment