Visit Africa.

The threat of sending illegal immigrants to Rwanda is supposed to stop the constant flow of overcrowded illegal boats arriving from France. Well, let me tell the initiators of this crazy scheme that it will quite possibly increase the arrivals.

Who in their right minds wouldn't want to be lodged in this lovely hotel in the African sunshine (below); totally free of charge! The hotel boasts a very good restaurant, tennis courts, landscaped gardens, and all the luxuries one finds in an averagely good hotel.

Those we intend to send 'on holiday' will receive spending money, on top of having everything paid for by UK taxpayers. It's almost worth taking a day trip to France, buying an inflatable boat, and being escorted to Britain by the nice Border Patrol folk; before being sent off to Rwanda on a jolly.

I wouldn't be surprised to hear that the Calais 'people smugglers' are charging extra for the possibility of being sent to Kigali. It might prove to be a very popular selling point. 

 

Industrial Pud'

I've had this pud' in the cupboard for months, and had almost forgotten about it.

I've been a fan of the Fray Bentos steak and kidney pies since I was a student, but the puds only appeared after the microwave was invented (I think).

I know, I know; such things are a bit naff, but just occasionally they hit the spot perfectly. Yesterday Lady Magnon was away for most of the day, so I took the opportunity to allow it to have its moment (for my lunch). 3 mins in the microwave, and Bob's your uncle. 

I don't know where else I would get a Steak and Kidney Pudding (unless I made it myself), so this one had to suffice.

Frankly it's not as good as the FB S & K Pies, but I enjoyed it anyway. The suet pastry is far too stodgy, but the overall taste is there. I don't think I shall be buying another one for a very long time. However, one in the cupboard for emergencies is not a bad idea.

Cro's Verdict: Not something you'd wish to eat too often. 6/10

 

Surrey Vandalism

 

It's not often that the press report simple mindless vandalism, but this particular case has recently made the headlines.

My native village of Lingfield in Surrey is very close to both the villages of Godstone and Oxted; two venues that are currently suffering from regular bouts of serious hooliganism from marauding gangs (above). They smash church, house, and car windows, kill animals, and have even blinded Swans on Godstone village pond; a pond I know well. They generally cause mayhem by firing catapults whilst others are asleep.

It is difficult to understand why some people commit blatant vandalism and cruelty. It has been alleged that the perpetrators are from an ex-traveler community, but this is no excuse to behave badly. Many people have financial or social problems but they don't go around killing pets or smashing windows. 

Some people are simply prone to vandalism, it seems to be in their blood. I imagine it's a question of 'they have what I don't, so I'll smash it'; not unlike keying expensive cars.

Some while back I wrote about the possibility of reintroducing some form of National Service, to give such people a purpose in life. I now see that the idea is becoming spoken about across the board, and it does look as if it will be introduced some time in the not too distant future.

Maybe swapping their catapults for more modern weaponry on a shooting range will help heal their inherent woes.

I do find it very odd that the good folk of Godstone are able to photograph these people, yet PC Plod fails to arrest them. What more do they need?

The Veg' Patch.

I cannot tell you how much I miss Haddock's; my old vegetable garden. Especially at the moment which is the beginning of the growing season.

It not only grew all our vegetables, but it also had a huge Fig tree, an Apple tree, a Plum tree, a Cherry tree, a large patch of Globe Artichokes, Tayberries, red and black Currants, and various Vines. It was only a smallish area, but it produced all we needed.

A Veg' garden requires constant attention. Weeds must be tackled daily, watering must be regular, and a strict rotation scheme adhered to.

I didn't attempt to grow anything too exotic, just the basic vegetables that we used on a daily basis. Many of these would be stored and saw us through to the next year's crop. Any non-lasting vegs would be bottled or frozen.  

The satisfaction one receives from successfully growing one's own food is almost second to none. Good critical reviews from an exhibition is up there with the Tomatoes or Aubergines, but that basket-full of fresh, straight from the garden, fruit and vegetables, beats all.  

Something went awry with Haddock's about 6 years ago. My crops suddenly started to fail. My neighbour, slightly above Haddock's, had invited all his builder friends to dump 'hardcore' to build-up an area to make a parking space. I noticed very quickly that they were dumping a lot more than hardcore, and I think much of it must have seeped down, through the dividing wall, and into Haddock's; poisoning the soil. There was nothing I could do but abandon my growing. Maybe in years to come it will have healed itself. We'll see!

Last year I did manage to grow a few Courgettes, and I'll try again this year. I now have a Polytunnel, so maybe I'll put them in there.

Haddock's had always been the vegetable garden of our 300 year old cottage, and it's a shame to see it no longer used.

 

Finding the right model.

Lady Magnon has an iPad; quite an old one. It works perfectly, does all she asks of it, but the cover has finally fallen to bits. In fact it's currently held together with masking tape.

Two years ago I ordered a new cover from Amazon; it was far too big. Then one year ago I ordered another from Amazon; it was (annoyingly) just a fraction too small. Recently Lady M bought another one herself which was just plain rubbish and fell to bits. So, I have yet again thrown caution to the winds, crossed my fingers, and ordered a FORTH (FOURTH) one. I checked all the model's numbers etc, and between us we decided that the model I'd ordered HAD to be the right one.

The new cover arrived yesterday, and amazingly it fits perfectly.

We danced, we sang, we opened Champagne. I have finally managed to buy a cover that fits! Whoopee.

So, it's the end of a saga. It probably all sounds rather ridiculous that two apparently normally intelligent humans can't order a bloody cover for an iPad, but we followed all the rules, and the internet simply ganged-up against us. Thank goodness the saga is over..... More Champagne!!!

Has it really come to this???

Imagine the situation. You are a perfectly well-behaved citizen who has just left a place of worship (a synagogue), and you are on your way walking home.

PC Plod then confronts you as looking 'quite openly Jewish', and, because there is a pro-Hamas demo nearby, he threatens to arrest you.

UNBELIEVEABLE! If that wasn't an outright display of institutional racism; I don't know what was. PC Plod himself should be arrested at once, and booted out of The Met. His behaviour was disgusting, and has no place in British policing.

Plod's number is NW 377. Sir Mark Rowley (Boss of The Met), if you're reading this, please note!

p.s. I now read that the gentleman involved, Gideon Falter, has called for Sir Mark Rowley himself to resign! Well, why not, if he's employing racist coppers such as PC NW 377.

Central London has almost become a 'Jew Free Zone' in recent months, but now it is becoming a 'Police Enforced Jew Free Zone'. Does that remind you of anything? 

 

Patricia Preece.

Lady M went to Lewes recently to see an exhibition, which included works by Patricia Preece.

Most of us will know of Preece as the second wife of Stanley Spencer. She was his 'muse', and he painted several pictures of her (one below). They married in 1937.

As with many members of the Bloomsbury Group, her love-life was complicated. Preece was what used to be called 'a shirt and tie job'; but what we would now call a member of the LGBTQ community.

After her marriage to Spencer, Preece and her lover Dorothy Hepworth went on 'honeymoon' together, to St Ives, whist Spencer himself stayed at home; bizarre. During their time away, Spencer's first wife, Hilda Carline, visited him, and he attempted to establish a three way marriage. When Preece returned home she learned of his infidelity, and refused to have anything more to do with him; other than to fleece him of all his money. Just another everyday story of life amongst Bloomsbury folk.

I have always known about the family's strange arrangements, but what I didn't know was that most of the paintings attributed to Preece were in fact painted by Hepworth, onto which Preece would put her signature.

This photo (above) shows Dorothy Hepworth with Patricia Preece and Stanley Spencer on their wedding day; Preece in an Ascot style hat, and Spencer with what looks like a sodden dish-cloth on his head. I also note that he didn't bother to polish his shoes for the wedding.

A strange bunch.