Apple of the eye...

For some years, since we used to toddle across The Channel to Normandy, for holidays and fun, we have been huge fans of the Regional Nectar, Calvados.

From the cheapest to the very expensive, we've long celebrated the time of year with apples all over the garden, with a few small bottles (they usually appear as 500 cl for some reason), and it is almost a rite of passage to toast the harvest in a most appealing way.

But this year, it seems that our Tesco doesn't seem to have any, and we're having to explore other grocers to locate a fair-priced bottle...

During one such foray, we discovered this, and without further ado, grabbed a couple of bottles.

Now you'd both know, that Scrobs is not really an alcopop type of person, but a good cider is well worth the few extra pence, and a Henry Weston's Vintage bottle is an investment I'm making quite regularly for this season.

And this Jim Beam is a great substitute for the non-existent Calvados! The trouble is, it's too easy to finish a bottle, and I like a good Bourbon as well, so when all the apples have gone, it'll be just Beam, I suppose...

LSD in metric...

The new five pound note is in circulation as of tomorrow. It's rather a nice little piece of kit, made of a polymer, which is undoubtedly easier to replicate than special paper, but who am I to judge, I'm only a humble old fart these days.

Years ago, I worked with a chum, who was developing the latest computer chips. There was a state-of- the-art manufacturing business in Sidcup, and it was such a hi-tech business, that the building itself was literally built on springs, to alleviate vibration from the various trains which infest South London. Each laboratory had positive ventilation, such that when you opened a door, there was a 'Star Trek' whoosh, as air was pumped out so that germs, dust, and other nasties didn't invade the procedures being perpetrated within. They also used millions of gallons of water for cooling, which made a few people at some water board or other have a seizure, but it was a good business.

Back then the quandary was how thin could a computer chip wafer be manufactured? I would think that the sort of kit we have in a mobile phone is about a thousand times thinner, and a million times quicker than anything being made in the eighties, so the mystery probably will still be around over the next century or so.

But this fiver bothers me somewhat.

I always hankered after The Royal Mint producing a general circulation £5 coin. It would be big, heavy, and carry the gravitas a good currency demands. Scrobs Senior travelled far and wide in Europe in the sixties and seventies, and always came home with a pocket of pretty useless change. When he popped off this mortal coil, we kept all the coins and used them to tip French lavatory attendants, bugger up foreign parking meters and gave them to scroungers (unkind, but useful), and we still have a huge box of them. Some of these are frankly not worth making! They're often a light alloy, have no milling, and mean very little, other than they look like some of the coins you get with a kid's toy shop till or similar.

So now we're down to a small plastic sheet, with a drawing of a proper politician! (If that's not a contradiction in terms).

I hope it works. The fivers I keep stashed away for Christmas are all old, well folded with writing/darts holes/dirt etc all over them, and I hope the small wallet I use will accept a twice folded plastic membrane comfortably.

And also I hope that it hasn't be reproduced by some gang up North, or in Scotland, or London, and printed on an old polythene bag!

The Scaffolder's wife...

I found myself listening to this again recently, and it's such a kindly observation, I just want to share it with both of you!

Mark Knopfler is a great chap to listen to for softer, more interesting music these days. I always liked the Dire Straits years, but the move onto a more simple and likeable style is very welcome!

The scaffolder's wife
Driving out of the yard
With a face that's as hard
As a scaffolder's bar -
When she goes into town
She might take the top down
On the car

The quick little steps
In the stiletto boots
And the hair with the roots
She comes in as a rule
To get the nails done
And the tan for the sun
When the kids are in school

Don't begrudge her the Merc
It's been nothing but work
And a hard life
Losing her looks
Over company books
- the scaffolder's wife

In the wicked old days
When they went it alone
Kept the company going
On a wing and a prayer
They don't pay what they owe
When they have the cash flow
- they don't care

Don't begrudge her the Merc
It's been nothing but work
And a hard life
Losing her looks
Over company books
- the scaffolder's wife

Is it really that interesting...

So someone has found an old tape of Led Zeppelin on an old copy of a dire 12 bar blues shriek...

Hmph...

Great.

How to take tablets painlessly...

Like many ladies and late middle-aged chaps, Mrs O'Blene (may her tribe increase - but only after careful consultation), takes a few tablets for things that Scrobbers and their ilk have to deal with in 'later' life, and one capsule  in particular seems to stick unmercifully in her throat, and causes some disruption to the daily record, and also some extremely bad language, and also the occasional shriek, which frightens both JRT and also my good self, as about then I am just waking up, and in need of a non-alcoholic tincture, such as a mug of Assam, and a look out of the window in a daze..

On mentioning this to our favourite, lovely (gorgeous) chemist in the village, she said ,why not try to take the capsule by sucking on a straw with some water? Pop the capsule into your mouth, take a suck on the straw and swallow, and the little beast is gone! They apparently advise all parents to do this for children with the same situation, and by George, it really works!

Even I shot down a capsule in seconds, without feeling a thing, and I can gag at the slightest need for air (except perhaps for a fine whisky, or maybe a 'Screwdriver' with real orange juice)!

Marvellous result, and thank you lovely M.... (the lovely chemist) for suggesting it!

(She can suggest anything she likes, and if Mrs O'Blene isn't listening, I'd even take notes for a later occasion..;0)

Irish yarn...

IF YOU MARRY AN IRISH GIRL

 

The first man married a woman from Italy. He told her that she was to do the dishes and house cleaning. It took a couple of days but on the third, he came home to see a clean house and the dishes put away.

 

The second man married a woman from Poland. He gave his wife orders that she was to do all the cleaning, dishes and cooking. The first day he didn’t see any results but the next day it was better. By the third day he saw his house was clean, the dishes were done and there was a huge dinner on the table.

 

The third man married a girl from Ireland. He ordered her to keep the house clean, dishes washed, lawn mowed, laundry done and hot meals on the table for every meal. He said the first day he didn’t see anything, the second day he didn’t see anything but by the third day, some of the swelling had gone down and he could see a little out of his left eye and his arm was healed enough that he could make himself a sandwich and load the dishwasher. He still has some difficulty when he goes for a widdle.

Some like it rather like Mrs O'Blene...

Mrs Scroblene (aka Ma'am O'Blene) and your old chum, Scrobs, aka 'Scrobs' or whatever, have just been seriously discussing a certain subject, which will enrage Grauniad, and other silly readers everywhere.

We're in our late sixties, and are hardly likely to commence a barnstorm for 'lefties' everywhere, but it has been a revelation for us both, as we decided to buy 'Some like it hot', to watch when the evenings draw in.

Mrs O'Blene, as fragrant as ever, just said that the final comment on the iconic film, from Osgood, saying 'Nobody's perfect', was a gay comment...

And we both agreed that we didn't have a cat in hell's chance of realising that back then...

I went to see the film in London when it came out, and remember asking two people in front of me, if they'd mind shifting sideways, as they were large (fat), and I couldn't see the screen, as most cinemas in town were pretty lousy anyway, and the seating arrangements were dire.

Anyway, for four and a half notes, plus PandP, Mrs O'Blene and I will be able to watch the whole film, in the comfort of our own tinctures, come our  44 anniversary years (October), and if anyone has any other flicks to suggest, we only need another tincture to consider them!