Wave...

 

I don't know why this hilarious few seconds came to mind the other day, but uncontrolled giggling occurred, and continued for quite some time...

Dave Allen was required watching all those years ago, before humour became 'woke. political, and unwatchable'!

One or two home truths...

My copy of the delightful Penguin Dictionary of Modern Humorous Quotations has a couple of gems...

• Politics is the art of looking for trouble, finding it whether it exists or not, diagnosing it incorrectly, and applying the wrong remedy.

                    Sir Ernest Benn, quoted in The Observer, 1930

• When you're abroad, you're a statesman, when you're at home, you're just a politician.

                    Harold Macmillan.

...and one of the cleverest ones...

• I always wanted to get into politics but I was never light enough to get in the team.

                    Art Buchwald

Sounds about right to me...

The new commie diet...

 

Round, green, not detected for twenty weeks or so, then forms a hard carapace which is impossible to cut easily...

Kohl Rabi - an excellent comestible for any garden, easy to grow, a delight to use in so many ways, and well worth a few shillings for a packet of seeds, which are desperate to grow, unlike cucumbers and courgettes, which are programmed to die within a few days of germination!

And the title? Well, we have about the same number of weeks before the recession in the UK really bites hard, so cabbage soup will be on the menu at the gulags for the following months...

Hound of love and loyalty...

My little/big dog has been my Paladin over the last several months.

I was told I needed 'treatment' for an 'aggressive' condition, the initial diagnosis wasn't encouraging but that entailed a new regime which I had to approach, whether I liked it or not!

So the chemo started, and some of the suggested 'side effects' began, with peculiar observations, in that I didn't lose my hair, but my legs swelled and my arms started to flake! This was all documented as a potential issue, but just about everything else was alleviated, because Lily, my little/big dog, required an excursion, every morning, without fail! She needed the walk and the chance to issue a 'tom-tit', on demand, and that pressure on me,  to make sure she was a happy and well exercised dog, was a necessity. And so, she made me walk her every morning, around 7.00am, and we'd gambol in the paths and the fields as normal! I really did have to walk a lot!

Lily really did make sure I reached the heady heights of a 'we're very pleased with the last scan which shows you're just about all clear, but we're monitoring you', sort of discussion with my consultant a few days ago, and all I can say, is that, if you're faced with a similar quandary, just get a dog, walk with him or her, let them meet chums, let them bark, and poo everywhere, but be a friend, because you'll certainly get better, and total love and loyalty like Lily's, will make sure that you improve as every day progresses. 

Farming today...

Scrobs has lived among the farming communities of Kent and Sussex since he was a kid - many friends have come and gone, but farming has always been around the family in some shape or form!

I can't say whether my love of gardening is a result of all this, but this year, the veg plot has been given a lot of attention, especially as we gave up our two allotments some time ago, and there is still a yearning for producing as much as I can on just a few square yards, several deep trays and a big greenhouse!

I can't actually remember how this website appeared on my screen, but it is a fascinating subject, and worthy of reading in some detail. 

With British farmers getting clobbered by this awful government, there is still some innovation to pursue, and as this actual clip is about the production of barley for malting, well, what could be better!

Dearth...

Scrobs has been reasonably empty of ideas for posts of late.

About now, I feel I have to remember what was going on last year, when Senora O'Blene was so poorly, and we didn't know that she'd only have a few weeks to stay with us.

Yesterday would have been her 77th birthday.

Anniversaries are odd times, you never know whether to laugh or cry, but I've popped a bunch of her favourite flowers - sweet peas, with some Mock Orange and a rose bud from one of her roses from one of the kids' mums whom she taught, over near where she's scattered.

Hurts still.

Tears before bedtime...

Merriman, the acerbic and trenchant butler in 'The Duchess of Duke Street', used to expound his theories about the lot upstairs with marvellous expression...

Reading today, that Brian Wilson of The Beach Boys had popped off, reminded me of one of their better songs -

I remember loving this song from the day it came out, and by surprise, it was in a 'remainder' box in a music shop near Woodford Green Underground Station back in 1972 - so I bought it!

R.I.P. Brian Wilson, you were so important back then...