So tonight, we can see a real British Harvest Moon!
It wasn't that bad a moon last night when I dodged the curtains for a quick peek, but hopefully, I'll see the whole shebang tonight, when the 3 o'clock - er - visit to the loo seems to abound these days...
A lovely chum told me about this song, and it resonates on so many levels, especially where Neil Young sings -
" I wanna see you dance again...'
While there's very little to laugh about these days, with such depressing headlines and worse to come, Scrobs, as is his wont, reverts to humorous writings by some of the funniest citizens past and present!
Over the years, I've collected most of Michael Green's books, starting from his Coarse Sport series, and now giggling though his two autobiographies!
There was uproar at the Sodden Prickney Parish Council meeting at some day or other last week!
(Writes Slimcea Harpic - Reporter).
Cllr Cynthia Molestrangler was running late, having waited in for over four hours for her grocery delivery, only to find that she'd ordered it all for the next day, so the meeting was delayed more than somewhat!
The opening statements and welcoming to the three village residents with several small poodlediddlewiddle dogs who had come in out of the cold were drowned out by a sudden downpour of such ferocity, that Cllr Norman Wibble actually had to leave the chamber to mop out the Ladies toilets, and as he was supposed to be taking the minutes, there was a further delay!
Cllr Basil Kalashnikov started the proceedings with the usual rant about everyone being against him, especially 'The Bugle', a newspaper which has a history of spelling as bad as The Guardian, and on one occasion, even managing to explain to the village the term, 'Bicyclist', which is a religion long-espoused by Cllr Edwina Baggage, and who was not amused, especially as she'd just finished a long ride with a young relative of PC Lumbersnatch!
After Cllr Kalashnikov had been persuaded to sit down and stop waving his arms around, the meeting dragged itself to the first item on the agenda.
There had been a long association between Cllr Newt and Cllr Ron Groat, which sometimes reached the questionable ascendancy of Cleopatra and Anthony, Romeo and Juliet, Starmer and... (get on with it - Ed), and the time had come for these two long-standing, some may say everlasting, others may say...(I said bloody well get on with it - Ed), stalwarts of politics in the village had to become a thing of the past! They had both been embroiled in a game of cat and mouse with various members of the public, who were not a million miles away from the business of Tax Specialist!
It appeared, that after all these years - about seven, according to Cllr Sid Trumpet, there had been serious irregularities regarding the council chamber rent paid, which sometimes appeared in the accounts of the Council, or in Cllr Groat's bank account - often at the same time!
As nobody on the committee knew anything about finance issues, the advisers, a small firm in the next village had decided to explain the issues about all this money floating around, but finishing up in Cllr Newt's love-nest in Worthing, a small village not far from Hove! Their report was in full view of the committee!
It was a sad state of affairs! Cllr Groat immediately demanded that further investigation be carried out on all the firms which had 'advised' them, and that a committee be formed to report back in three years' time. For some reason only known to herself, Cllr Molestrangler immediately agreed, and pretended to take a vote, crashing her gavel with considerable force on the bejewelled fingers on Cllr Baggage, who squealed in anguish, and screamed for compensation with immediate effect!
PC Lumbersnatch mis-heard her demands, believing that a potential bicycling 'event' was on the cards, and immediately ran to her side with a pressure bandage and a large bottle of smelling salts, tinged with a questionable sort of brandy he makes at home!
At this point Dr. Norbert Iodine arrived, having been held up seeing a patient who had plied him with several single malts, and, belching softly, took over the administrations by levering PC Lumbersnatch away from the heaving chest of Ms Baggage, and placing a cold stethoscope amongst the accoutrements displayed quite prominently! This caused an even louder scream to emanate from the unfortunate lady, and while Cllr Wibble and Cllr Newt crept slowly and silently from the chamber, the meeting was abandoned.
The only sounds one could hear after the lights had been turned off, were from an enraged Cllr Basil Kalashnikov who had been locked in and was yelling to get out and that everyone must be sacked forthwith!
Nobody took any notice...
As some of Scrobs' readers know, we live next to the village church, and little/big dog chooses to walk around the boneyard on some occasions! I still like the walks, and always marvel at the intricate stonework of the delightful building!
My construction roots have often enquired into the way some construction was carried out, what materials were used etc., and that curiosity often manifests itself on wondering how such large stones could have been quarried, brought to the site from miles away, prepared, and most of all, lifted to the top of the tower, which is around sixty feet high!
Of course, the larger pieces of stone are at the bottom, and smaller pieces higher up, but a builder's electric lift wasn't actually invented all those years ago, and scaffolding would have been pretty rudimentary, but what sort of crane system was used to lift these heavy items?
The answer was easy to find...
Scrobs had a message from Amazon Prime the other day, with an offer of a free film, for some reason!
Now that always needs a little thought, as there's one film I'd like to see again, after all these years, so I popped in a search to see if it was there...
