Tuesday, 28 December 2021
Thursday, 23 December 2021
With just a few days to go before Christmas, Basil Kalashnikov, the 'Lead' or some other sort of 'Chair' (or Top Twot - Ed), of Sodden Prickney Parish Council, called an emergency meeting to discuss the worrying outbreak of Honeymoon Cystitis in the village. Needles were in short supply and Dr Hubert Flange was becoming increasingly incommode about his supplies of calming balm!
Some of the culprits were still not taking precautions against the problem, by not wearing masks during the sessions of bicyclism, and in fact, Clr Cynthia Molestrangler had publicly admonished Clr Norman Wibble for his insistence that his Janet Reger mask is acceptable, even with some slightly over-stretched elastic interfering with the Sellotaped arms of his glasses, but maintaining a certain barrier between his unfortunate mouth, and the various ears of any lady he can grasp in the sherry aisles in Tesco!
PC Lumbersnatch was called to the meeting to explain to them all, in halting English, what actually went on in the car park, but with Ms Edwina Baggage having her hands full at the time, and Ron Groat still trying to recover his composure after a steamy and energetic discussion with Miss Amelia Newt in the rear seat of the Wolsey 1500, there was very little to report!
As the redoubtable policeman struggled to read his notes, Ms Emily D'Artagnan-Minge decided that enough was enough, and proceeded to venture forth to the infamous broom cupboard with Clr Kalashnikov's stepson, Kyoto, where an expected foray into the questions arising from the medical emergency was expected to at least bring some relaxing comfort to both persons, and help the committee to decide on the course of action to be taken, after they'd finished.
After several minutes, during which Clr Kalashnikov entertained the members with a whistling extravaganza of ditties from 'The Pirates of Penzance', the couple returned to give their verdict!
Nobody took much notice however; Miss Newt decided that her liaisons with Clr Ron Groat needed a refresher course, Ms Edwina Baggage began to eye PC Lumbersnatch's truncheon and with all that going on, Basil Kalashnikov reverted to his time-honoured method of closing the meeting by shouting 'Sod everybody, I'm going home to get as pissed as a fart, as it's bloody Christmas'!
Thursday, 16 December 2021
Scrobs has a new project lined up for the quiet days after Christmas!
Over the years, as a keen but casual exponent of the guitars I've collected (or made) over the years, they all need some serious TLC, so I'm starting with one like this!
Friday, 10 December 2021
There was uproar at the Special Meeting of Councillors for the Sodden Prickney Parish, when a sensational video of an 'event', was taken by the Bicycling Correspondent of 'The Bugle', Edwina Baggage, of some councillors apparently drinking a convivial glass of Wincarnis with other persons!
The problem was not the actual warming concoction for the elderly, so loved by a former Prime Minister, Jarrold Wislon, (Lab), but that the event apparently happened when everyone should have been at home watching anything but the BBC!
The event was even more disturbing, as an empty Walkers crisps packet had also been seen by a half-full glass, so this was proof that Basil Kalashnikov had indeed held a party, and Ms Baggage was definitely not invited! So, er, (yes, go on - Ed), as she hadn't been asked to go and meet the Chairman, then what was Cynthia Molestrangler doing, maskless, and heard to be giggling inanely about something she'd heard from Miss Newt, who was still considering the future personal relationship with Ron Groat, (Ind) later on that evening?
Er, so if Cllr. Kalashnikov had been appropriating Ms Molestrangler, then where was PC Lumbersnatch, as one frame certainly shows a policeman's helmet on a side table, and also questions need to be asked of Norman Wibble, as his Janet Reger home-made mask was definitely seen with a garishly painted fingernail poised to disentangle the material from his spectacles!
(This report is turning into a farce - Ed).
The sound on Ms Baggage's iPhone is not great, but the grunts and groans of some sort of joy were definitely noticed, and like in all good parish councils, the videos were being filed under 'Private', and copies taken only for members, their families, the till ladies in Tesco, and of course 'The Bugle'!
The meeting is still ongoing, and one wonders where it will all end - probably after Songs of Praise next Sunday!
Saturday, 4 December 2021
Saturday, 27 November 2021
Friday, 19 November 2021
Saturday, 13 November 2021
I want to put some new names up, since I've been elevated to the peerage of Martin Scriblerus, but the screen just freezes, and reverts to the original!
Blogger 'help' just doesn't, and they've closed the only post I can find!
If it continues, it may have to be a foray into Wordpress, but I don't want to bugger up fourteen years of posts and fabulous comments from so many good friends here!
Sunday, 7 November 2021
Wednesday, 27 October 2021
Just want to quieten things down a bit...
The rude - but explicit - post two-down has been changed slightly as every time I wanted to read posts from chums about Senora O'Blene and Nols, I saw anger, and that's not a good place to be at the moment...
So here's a nice picture, and if you turn on your wireless you may hear some pleasant, soothing music...
Friday, 22 October 2021
Tuesday, 19 October 2021
What are we getting from our tax-paid lumpen bunch of losers-
- Police - fuck all
- Sensible government for all - fuck all
- Doctor's appointments - fuck all
- Local authority management - fuck all
- County council (again) - fuck all
- Dustmen - fuck all
- Police (again) - fuck all
- Kent County Council - fuck all
- Government work to stop places flooding - fuck all
- Immigration (illegal) - fuck all
- Real assistance for vulnerable people - fuck all
- Intelligent people who understand climate - fuck all
- The B bloody B sodding C!
- Education - fuck all
- Patriotism - fuck all
Tuesday, 12 October 2021
- Two lovely chums moved there when they sold their house here, and couldn't find anywhere to live in our village.
- I had my first building project there in 1989.
- The big pub on the corner is now an Indian joint, so of course, we won't go there again.
- My dad bought me an ice cream there around 1960 when we were visiting a Guinness farm in Teynham.
- Our favoured charity, The Kent Air Ambulance used to be based there.
- We had our jabs for the covids at Headcorn Aerodrome (yes, there really is one).
- I finished up there late one night when I went to sleep on the train and missed my station.
- I was involved with the first local Sainsbury's there, and the agent never gave me a penny for my trouble. (We don't go to them any more as they wrote to us and suggested that if we didn't like their 'woke' ideas we could shop elsewhere, so we do)!
- I often went to work in Canterbury that way, as I like the route and it's one of the prettiest roads around here.
- A lovely lady chum works in the hairdressers there.
- Four chaps sadly died in a crash there a couple of days ago, The national rags did the story, the local rag hardly mentioned it at all...
Thursday, 7 October 2021
Saturday, 2 October 2021
Scrobs was in 'The Bells', enjoying a pint of Shep's 'Autumn Bastard' 8.9% (a dark, hoppy ale with qualities enabling much more than immediate refreshment), when an approach was made to the saloon door by none other than his old friend Elias Sagtrouser, accompanied by his fragrant wife, Gloriette!
'Hey you two, come here and sample this exquisite draught with me', I simpered, and Elias smiled, positioned his trilby hat to starboard and agreed to the requirement, while Gloriette demurred in preference to a large G and T.
'You are indeed a welcome sight, Scrobs', mentioned my friend, 'as we have a short story to tell you, which will lighten up your day, and even your evening, when you tell Senora O'Blene what we've just seen'!
Now Elias has a knack of telling yarns which can sometimes last several hours, and in fact, he still hasn't finished one he started back in July, so even his mates don't know what eventually occurred, but that is by-the-by for the moment.
'We have just been to see our old friend, Sid Niblett, who is, as you know, the estate agent we use for all our various yards, houses etc.' he started. 'Sid is one of the shrewdest surveyors I've ever had the pleasure to meet, and while there are always going to be cowboys around in that particular business, Sid is the man to do the works; aren't I right Gloriette'?
Gloriette fluttered her eyelashes at both of us at the same time, as Sid is quite a man of the world, and Elias has been known to cast a special stare at him if Gloriette so much as crosses her handsome legs when in his office! But in fact, Sid's loving wife also casts a similar look in his direction if he even considers wandering anywhere, so a sort of balance is preserved whenever they meet, which is quite often, as Elias has ideas of expansion, now the covids are becoming a thing of the past, and he always needs professional advice. His normal advice with the help of a baseball bat doesn't really work with the simple minds of solicitors or architects, so Sid does the negotiation, and Elias hands him a cheque every now and then.
'Sid is sitting in his open plan office with two clients when we arrived today, and we decided to wait in reception for a few minutes, and chat to his secretary, who is in fact his niece, Samantha', started Elias, 'and we suddenly heard a commotion coming from his work area, and we could see that some sort of unpleasantness was beginning to occur'!
'So we listened in! Samantha told us in a whisper that the two people in there with Sid, were prospective buyers of a large house a few miles out of the nearby town, and the price being asked was around a mill and a half, which is quite a large wedge in my book'!
'The negotiations seemed to have stalled for some reason, and even reached such a low ebb, that one of the visitors had got up as if he was going to leave! At last, we understood the reason for the unusual attitude by hearing the way things were going. The visitor, a rather unpleasant looking individual, was staring at Sid, and exclaimed in a rather nasal voice 'Yes, we have decided to go ahead now that your client has agreed to deal with us, but the price we are now prepared to put on the table is reduced by 10%,and not the original offer we made'!
Elias stared at me with an odd glance at the clock over the bar.
'What the bloke was doing was effectively cheating the owner out of £150 thou, and fully expecting him to accept at the very last moment, as solicitors, surveyors, engineers and the whole lot of planners had been on the case for God knows how long, he was expected to roll over'!
Now I know Sid well, and saw him make a note on his pad, and say slowly to the man, 'So that is your full and final offer then'? The pair of them sort of grunted and looked very smug, and said yes, take it or leave it'!
'Fine said Sid, and called over to Samantha for a copy of a standard offer letter, which she took over. The couple both signed the note, and handed it to Sid with a triumphant yawn of boredom'.
'Sid nodded and just said 'I need to make a couple of calls, please stay while I confer', and the two prospective buyers smirked at each other while they sat holding a cheque book, open at a new page'.
'We heard Sid say a few words on the dog and bone, and saw him make a few notes. He then made another call, and again, jotted down some figures, so we expected that the owner was going to have to accept the reduced offer'!
'Well', Sid started, 'It seems that the deal is on...' the couple smirked again, '...but not with you I'm afraid, my client has accepted another offer, which is the current value! You're now the underbidder, and my client has instructed me to accept the new valuation and take the property off the market'!
'The woman shrieked some very unpleasant words, the bloke went very red, and they stormed out shouting something about legal action, the police, and all sorts of rubbish'!
Elias tapped the side of his nose and began to laugh!
'Actually, Sid was talking to our accountant; the price is now exactly what we all agreed to pay in the first place'...
Saturday, 25 September 2021
Friday, 24 September 2021
Friday, 17 September 2021
Sunday, 12 September 2021
A few years ago, these were all the rage, and I was even bought a book of them as a present, and 'saw' them all! They were great fun, harmless, and I had a sneaking, smug feeling that my eyesight was pretty damn good for that!
Nowadays, wearing glasses with all sorts of lens strengths in odd places, and a price tag of £400 a pop every couple of years, I've lost all that - until now...
Monday, 6 September 2021
Saturday, 28 August 2021
Sunday, 22 August 2021
Saturday, 21 August 2021
A dear, elderly neighbour has left the area to live nearer to her sons in Oxford, and we miss her!
Because she lived next door, we feel responsible for her cottage, and are keeping an eye on the place for her, until it's sold.
She has generously offered any of her fixtures and fittings for us to have if we want them, and apart from a couple of things, there's not much to want, or take now.
Except a complete set of Charles Dickens...
I must confess to be a bloke who has only ever read one Charles Dickes novel, and have long wondered if I could summon the desire to read them all at some stage. My old business partner did exactly that, and as there are only about fifteen novels, give or take the odd pamphlet, I should really give it a try, shouldn't I?
Friday, 30 July 2021
Tuesday, 27 July 2021
Tuesday, 20 July 2021
There was upraor at the Sodden Prickney Sports and Leisure club extravaganza a week or so ago, when the players extended the game beyond extra time and sort of flopped into a penalty shoot-out.
The game had been dead boring anyway, with several of the Wibble kids playing at various positions, and Ron Groat's stepson doing something or other out on the wing, but the few spectators became aghast - some say enigmatic, when Ms Edwina Baggage suddenly stripped down to her Janet Regers and ran onto the pitch! The football was immediately forgotten when P.C.Lumbersnatch immediately divested himself of his uniform, either in sympathy, or to relieve himself of the weight of the accoutrements of the law, and, to the baying of the crowd, gave chase.
The roar from the several men in the crowd, as well as Ms Cynthia Molestrangler, who for some reason was almost sober that afternoon, reached a crescendo when our intrepid policeman executed a superb diving rugby tackle, and brought the lady to the ground, close to another nephew of Mr Norman Wibble. As the Wibble family are known to be of a nervous disposition, the small nephew (Gilbert Wibble), began to go very red and seemed to suffer an embolism or something similar, as the said Janet Regers had ridden high up the almond curves of an interesting leg!
Of course, while this was going on, the football became even more boring and eventually forgotten, as Ms Molestrangler decided in a stentorian voice that "She was going to have some of that", and began to unbutton her voluminous Dior blouse. The match referee, Cllr Basil Kalashnikov, who has watched that particular spectacle on many occasions, began to feel weak at the knees, but managed the almost impossible act of blowing his whistle and yelling "Sod everyone", which is his normal mode of disrespect to everyone he dislikes, or even likes for that matter!
The crowd reformed with certain Members of the Council, (Mr Norbert Iodine, Ms Hillary Billary, Miss Agatha Newt, Cllr Ron Groat and Cllr Sid Trumpet), all stamping their feet, booing or cheering, and demanding a replay as a passing pikey had pinched the goasl posts, and left a couple of anoraks in their place!
The F.A. are going to be consulted, but as nobody has a clue where their office is, the issue is in abeyance as we go to press. In fact three members of the committee thought the letters 'FA' meant something else, but this was discounted by a rather manic referee as he urgently sought yet another consultation with Ms Molestrangler, before she got her kit back on!
Tuesday, 13 July 2021
Friday, 9 July 2021
Our local Tesco, with the gorgeous Shirley, Anita and Mary getting my corpuscles up to break-neck speed, had these on offer a few weeks ago...
I bought the lot and JRT has just started on the last packet!
They're a Polish smoked sausage, and actually taste quite nice, so why cannot our best chum have a treat as well?
Sunday, 4 July 2021
Monday, 28 June 2021
There was uproar at the start of the Sodden Prickney Parish Council meeting held in the spacious, but empty, new sports emporium, just along from Aldi, on Thursday last week. To maintain social distancing, all members sat on chairs 6'0" apart, around the outside of the half-acre £3.5million Splenderama, shouting at each other continuously, or using tin cans and string to communicate.
The Member for Drains and Waste, Cllr Basil Kalshnikov, surprised the meeting with a sudden shriek of pain, followed by a whimper of agony as a bonus, as it had emerged during the day, that he had received a serious cranial contusion from his squeeze, Ms Edwina Baggage. It emerged that while he had been grasping Ms Baggage in the broom cupboard - a regular occurence, a small urchin from the local orphanage had popped his head round the door, and taken several pictures of the amorous embrace with an iPhone the size of a television set! Ms Baggage has been an exponent of Bicyclism for many years, and has made her religion well known to just about every red-blooded gentleman in the village, and nearby townships,who earns more that £30,000.
The Chairman, Cllr Ron Groat, decided to hold an enquiry into the incident, and called for a vote. The commotion began to reach a crescendo, when all twenty-seven members demanded copies of the photographs, and without consulting the Chairman, the Secretary, Miss Amelia Newt, forwarded the said pictures to everyone's mobile phone. She hadn't realised, in her disturbed state of eight vodka-tonics, that the list of members included a member of the press, Gina Lollalollers, who also had a second cousin who 'worked' an autocue-reader on the local BBC radio.
The commotion decibel count increased as Cllr Norman Wibble screamed that he thought he was the only member allowed to use the broom cupboard for such purposes, and demanded an adjunct to the enquiry. Matters were made worse when thirteen more councillors also began to express dismay, as they also thought that Ms Baggage had confined her lust to their sole presence! One councillor was in fact Ms Cynthia Molestrangler, who had been forced to use an even smaller broom cupboard in the old council offices near Tesco, which were pulled down for the 564,000 s.f. retail extravaganza all those years ago. But she maintained that she had never realised that both of them had been in there at the same time as someone had pinched the light bulb!
After several hours of constant yelling, cries of 'sod everybody', mainly from Cllr Kalashnikov, who was Polish once, the lights all went out in the normal 10.00pm power cut, and only the ocasional grunt from any councillor who had missed out on the opportunity for more action with Ms Baggage, was heard in the gloom of the dull, wet, June evening.
Tuesday, 22 June 2021
Elder Daught (ED), came up with an interesting theory over the weekend.
I asked her why I keep hearing - in my head - the seminal song from 'The Lamb lies down on Broadway', 'The Supernatural Anaesthetist'!
Now ED knows a fair bit about this fabulous album; she actually made a professional study/programme about the story, while at college, and that was from a copy of a copy of a tired old cassette tape I had given her! I still love the introduction chords, and still can't play them like Steve Hackett...
But she suggested that the 'earworm' I am getting constantly, is because of Summer birdsong! Now this is interesting, because around here at any rate, the birdsong about now is terrific, with young birds and exhausted parents (feathered), rushing about everywhere, and she may well be right! But I've yet to identify which bird it it's coming from, so may have to ask Bill Oddie!
An interesting take on all this, is that from December onwards, the earworm is in fact a short guitar riff by Sparks, around 60 seconds in...
Monday, 14 June 2021
When so many citizens in Great Britain are just fed up with most of the dross the BBC is churning out - paid for by the iniquitous TV tax, it was bound to happen that a proper alternative would arrive sooner or later, and here it is!
The website is on 'favourites' chez Scrobs, and will be the normal spot for unfaked news from now on!
Go Brillo et al!
Wednesday, 9 June 2021
The other night, somewhat sleepless but looking forward to the day ahead, Scrobs turned on a small wireless and caught one of the most enlightening snippets heard in a long time!
It was Colin Murray having a chat with one of the team at Strawberry Field, where John Lennon used to visit sometimes, and become involved with the place. Sadly, I can't remember the lady in question, but to listen to her kindness, dedication and general humility was moving and enlightening. The site is here.
Back in the 1960s, when I was a surveyor in London, one of our clients was the Salvation Army - or 'Sally-Anne' as we called them, and they really did do some fabulous buildings. Their professional teams were superb, and we all rather liked the normality and quiet business-like manner of the work. Of course they paid well and promptly too!
Although I've never visited Liverpool, I reckon that the first visit I might make would be to this lovely place - then I'd drive over and buy Thud a huge drink!
Tuesday, 1 June 2021
I think for the first time in many years, Senora O'Blene and I have caught the lurgy associated with a dodgy bottle of wine...
We were given a case of a decent Cotes de Rhone about 18 months ago, and just one bottle remained until yesterday. It seems to have really upset the whole system, and the coincidence is too clear!
Question, do bottles still deteriorate when stood up, and are not left on their sides? This bottle had a real cork, not a screwtop!
Tuesday, 25 May 2021
Does anyone know what happened to Tuscan Tony, who used to blog in the UK for a few years? I occasionally emailed him back and forth, but never actually met the chap, which was a shame as there was a chance we could have got him interested in an investment deal we had going at the time!
Some good chums here have just up-sticked and gone to live in Tuscany, and while I've never been that far down there, Senora O'Blene and I love Northern Italy more than any other place we've been to on the continent,
So Tuscs, if you're listening, I hope all is well with you, and I still remember that little bottle of olive oil you sent me as a prize for something or other!
Tuesday, 18 May 2021
Tuesday, 11 May 2021
Scrobs is reading the book about 'Dad's Army', by Graham McCann, as we've been watching the whole series - again, recently.One of the passages discussed in the book, is where Capt. Mainwaring gets riled at Sergeant Wilson being a member of the golf club, where he had some smoked salmon for lunch, and Mainwaring shrieks that he's been trying to get membership there for years and that he only had a snoek fishcake at 'The British Restaurant' in Walmington-on-sea!
Now, being somewhat inquisitive (even at 10.00pm), I realised I hadn't a clue what 'snoek' was, and imagined it to be some sort of mishmash of plankton, whelks and some sort of vegan slop, so looked it up!
What a great fish it is! It's a delicacy in South Africa, and I hope you won't mind me posting a link to a fabulous culinary website from a lady who really knows these things! She also gets a lot of the history of the fish into her post, which seems to ring true with our way of life these days!
I've never had snoek - has anyone here?
(I recommend the book too - it's well written, and very informative)!
Tuesday, 4 May 2021
Some years ago, Scrobs had an idea...
Skate boards were in their infancy, and while I'd grown up with 'go-carts', (not the powered ones, just the set of pram wheels nailed onto a wooden frame), and had enjoyed hours of immense fun racing down the hills near our home, I'd seen an article about a 'Gyrobus' in a magazine, which sparked something in the Meccano-riddled brain which inhabits this ol' head!
The concept is explained here
I wondered if the principle could be applied to a much smaller piece of equipment, and started to put together some ideas on paper, with absolutely no knowledge of what I was doing at all! Like many young boys, I'd had several of those toys which had a tiny flywheel driving the wheels, so you pushed the car along the floor, let go, and it would travel onwards for a few yards. I loved these models, and cherished their simplicity, as wind-up toys invariably broke when the spring got too tired!
The flywheel concept developed into these sketches...
Tuesday, 27 April 2021
In line with our normal viewing on TV, our total avoidance of the tiresome dross the BBC churns out continues.
Just the other day, Senora O'Blene suggested that we should watch 'Auf Wiedersehen Pet' again, as we easily remember it all starting back in the early eighties - and it was ever thus! The first two programmes of the first series are still classics, and hugely enjoyable!
But at some stage, the ferry bits took me back to all those booze-cruises we used to do, and it seems amazing now, that back then, if you joined the Dover Travel Club for a subscription of a few splonders, you could get a return car ticket plus four passengers to Calais for £6.00, with no questions asked!
We used to go over around every six/eight weeks, and our favourite beer at the time was the strong version of Kronenberg 1664 (the white label), as it really did pack a punch! (The modern English version is only OK, but that's neither here or there really, we just don't need the quantity like back then...)! Another joy was buying those plastic 'cubis', which held half a gallon of a 'draught' claret or similar, and we'd get the back wheels down quite easily with a few dozen of those little chaps plonked on the rear shelf!
But one trip was a hoot! Scrobs and Co. love gardening, and we're always buying stuff at our favourite garden centre up the road! So we booked the car on the P&O ferry, arrived in good time at the port, and as is the habit of the ferry boys, you join a queue and they get you aboard with hardly any concern about your time slot ! We'd usually buy a Club Class ticket to go up top, as you got a couple of glasses of bubbly, coffee and a free paper, plus a few bits and pieces, and it kept you away from the cattle class below! For another £6.00 a head it was a good deal!
There used to be some terrible French outlets back then, some even flogging stuff from road containers, and for tobacco addicts, a further trip into Belgium saved a lot more duty as well, but as we'd shed that habit long before, it was the 'Call of Le Caves', and we had one particular favourite...
Staggering out with two trollies, fully topped up with about £150.00 a load, Scrobs opened the boot! There nestling inside, as clean as a whistle, was the whole summer supply of compost, neatly arranged in plastic bags, and taking up all the space!
With a long prayer to the Goddess of Axles and Differentials, we still managed to get the whole lot stashed away, but I do remember Senora O'Blene having to sit with her knees up at dashboard level and that driving over that small eigth-inch lip on the ferry ramp needed a nervous double-de-clutch into first gear - just to be on the safe side...
Tuesday, 20 April 2021
A dear, close neighbour will be moving away from here in a month or so. She is getting on in years, and has struggled a bit since her husband died a couple of years ago. She had to get over a disgraceful burglary last year, and now has a distinct fear for her future in her delightful cottage, as her diagnosis of dementia (over the bloody phone, for God's sake), has made her need more help than she would ordinarily wish for.
Her three sons all live in other parts of the country, all in the South, so she is looking at a retirement village complex where she will have security, friendship from close neighbours, a church and above all, someone to keep a closer eye on her. She'll be near one of the sons, who lives roughly in the middle of the three, so she'll see her grandchildren more often as well.
Just yesterday, Senora O'Blene and Scrobs were partaking of a post-prandial tincture, and discussing what they'd do under the circumstances. The upshot is that we are firmly in the 'remain' camp here, as we have lived here for thirty-two years, and in the village for another twelve before that, so at last, we think we're accepted!
When we were first married, we lived in a flat in Hastings, as we both worked of course. When the children came along, we moved to a farm cottage way out in the countryside, and then finished up here, so that wasn't very adventurous, but it suited us well. My company actually wanted me to move nearer to London, but that was never on the cards, and they backed down immediately after a serious telephone call!
Senora O'Blene had spent much of her childhood in various forces accommodation, and is always of the opinion that she will damn well stay in one place from now on, and I feel the same! There was an uncomfortable time several years ago when Brown and Blair were bankrupting the country and also my company, which meant we might have to move, but we got over that, and the latest idea is that we're thinking we'll use what space we have at 'The Turrets', which is a decent space for a state of the art shower, and possibly a stair lift! (We don't need either - yet...)!
We know so many people who have decided to up-sticks every few years, gone to far-off places, sometimes hated it and returned, or became distant Christmas card addresses. A good chum is caught up in an immoveable property chain where he is desperate to move back to his roots area, and cannot, while another mate just decided to move the family two-hundred miles away, almost on a whim! My dear sister moved away some years ago, but at least we can chat over the phone occasionally!
So it's another thirty odd years of these tulips and bluebells, which have come out every year we have been here, they're persistent little chaps, and possibly about my age...
Tuesday, 13 April 2021
One abiding memory of David was his habit slapping his huge knife down on the joint while he called to his wife, Margaret, who sat in a glass cupboard nearby and took the money, 'That'll eat well'! We knew he always gave us a discount, as the price list above the chopping blocks was totally incoherent!
We miss him dreadfully...