A few pictures of Brighton.

There was some frost on top of the nearby cars yesterday morning, so it was out with the 'Polar Fleece' and gloves. Here are a few photos of Brighton in warmer times, for those who may not know my lovely city.

Above is the beautiful Bandstand on the beach. Built in 1884, it's a focal point along the promenade, and very popular with newlyweds for their wedding pix.

The Brighton Pavilion doesn't need much introduction. Built very centrally in town, it was the seaside second-home of The Prince of Wales, The Prince Regent, who late became King George IV. It dates from 1787. Simply gorgeous.

And here is just a tiny section of 'The Lanes'. The old fishing village area of Brighton now filled with cafés, restaurants, antique shops, pubs, jewelers, etc. The perfect spot for a leisurely stroll on a warm Summer's day.

There's so much more, but I'll leave that for another day.

Fashion?

I have always thought (maybe mistakenly) that fashion should enhance the look of either the women or men who wear stylish clothes. Traditionally women are supposed to look the shape of an hour-glass, and men the shape of a carrot or parsnip. The clothes they wear should normally enhance that.

But these days, all that seems to have been waylaid. In these days of gender fluidity, one is more likely to see the promotion of men's clothes for women, and women's clothes for men.

Figure hugging, sexual stereotyping, and flattery is despised by many of the new wave of Woke trans designers. They like to see androgenous models, and his-n-hers styles. Good old fashioned male/female delimitation is frowned-upon.   

I have to say that if I invited a young lady out for the evening, and she turned-up looking like the above; I'd head for home. No thanks!

What are these people thinking???

 

UK Farming.

 

Dear UK Farmers.

I simply want to let you know that I am 100% behind your actions.

I wish you all the best, Cro xx

Jean-Louis Aubert - Merveille (Live)

One of the biggest French bands of the mid to late 70's (that you've never heard of) was called Téléphone.

The oldest son of my next door neighbours (FR) was their manager, and the Téléphone lads, and lass, would come down from Paris for weekends in the countryside. They became part of the scene of our tiny 3 house hamlet.

FR later went on to manage Marianne Faithful, who also used to visit, which is why she came to my 50th birthday Party. Oh yes!

Téléphone were as big a French pop band as they could possibly get, they were France's very own version of The Beatles; but without the same talent.

The band broke-up in 1985 or 86 (I think), and the singer Jean-Louis Aubert went his own way with a very successful solo career. He became France's version of Mick Jagger.

This is one of his better songs (give it time).

I was very surprised to hear this track on English radio recently. It was chosen by Celia Imrie on the short Radio 4 Extra programme called 'Inheritance Tracks'. Imrie, like me, is a serious Francophile, and the track brought back wonderful memories for her.

I only saw Téléphone live once, and frankly I wasn't too impressed. For an Englishman it was all very tame and a tad dull. Of course, the French LOVED them.

Hives of Activity.

 

You can imagine my surprise when I encountered a man in full Bee-Keepers outfit coming out from behind the church. The hives are in a fenced-off area, I don't know if you can see them, it's a terrible photo. 

I'm used to encountering hives in France, in amongst the Chestnut trees, but I'd not known them to be placed behind the church before; especially at this time of year.

I wouldn't have thought that there was much pollen out there at the moment for the bees, but whatever there is; they'll find it.

I wonder if they'll be selling 'St Nicholas Church Honey' at some time later? I will definitely buy some if they do. I shall have a word with Father D.

Winter Pickles.

It's that time of year again.  I need to begin making my pickles for Christmas.

I always do my Onions reasonably early. They benefit from being in vinegar for at least a month.

I use a very simple, hit-n-miss, method. I almost fill with vinegar, add a few dried chili flakes, a couple of good soup-spoons of Sugar, then top-up the final few milliliters with water (2%).  

                                    

I shall do my Pickled Red Cabbage about a week before Christmas. Unlike the Onions, they don't require the same amount of 'maturing'. 

Nearer the big day I will also prepare some Onion and Cucumber Pickle. This is sliced onion layered with sliced Cucumber, then semi-preserved in a sweet pickle mix. It doesn't last, so it is prepared one or two days before needed.

I'm getting there!

Haddock's End (a.k.a. 'Haddock's)

My old veg' patch went through many changes over the years. Here is an old drawing from 2007 showing all the varieties of the fruit trees, etc. Haddock's is on the extreme left, showing its original three section layout. I originally used the whole area of the little plot.

Over the years it changed into a more manageable four section plot, which made annual rotation much easier.

                             

It stayed like this right through to when I was forced to abandon my growing. Something happened, and my plants began to die, I have a feeling that poisons were seeping through from a new building detritus dump on my 'builder' neighbour's side of the wall. Nothing would grow as before, and I was eventually forced to abandon it.

The same neighbour's dogs killed all my hens as well.

I really miss Haddock's. It provided all our vegetables, both fresh and preserved. It was highly productive, and I loved it. There was never a day, in either Summer or Winter, when there wasn't something to eat.

These days it is simply home to several fruit trees, lots of grape vines, and a few Artichoke plants. I am still thinking about what we'll do with the small area. My favourite current idea is to create a party area, with a summerhouse and BBQ; plus a few more Peach trees. I even planned to take some electricity down there for night-time lighting. But, somehow, I doubt if it'll ever happen.

Comrade Putin.

In terms of the world's most evil people, this man must currently be securely placed at No 1.

His illegal invasion of Ukraine, and all the subsequent killing and destruction, has ensured his place amongst the most evil tyrants the world has ever known.

Latest figures from the war front suggest that Russia is losing 1,500 soldiers EVERY DAY as they advance metre by metre. On one recent day the toll rose to 1,770. The death-count is appalling, yet he seems untroubled. The total Russian loss of life so far during this war is over 710,000. When he runs out, he simply gets more cannon-fodder in from other countries, such as N Korea.

Much to Kim Yong Un's annoyance, many of his loaned troupes were wiped out recently whilst advancing towards Alaya Loknya.

In the Middle East the Israeli's had little problem locating, and killing, the leaders of Hamas and Hezbollah. One really would have thought that something similar could be done in Russia.

This man is single-handedly dragging his country into the mire; and for what?

Surely the Russian people must soon turn against him. The death toll is horrific, and all in the name of occupying a country that they're doing their best to reduce to rubble.

In my book that amounts to complete and utter evil and stupidity.

Bloody roads!

Here in the UK we're all used to potholes, roadworks, and weeds growing all over our roads and pavements.

We pay £190 per annum in Road Tax for our cars, plus of course Tax on Petrol/Diesel. With around 41 Million cars on our UK roads, the Road Tax alone brings in nearly £8 Billion.

This sign (below) was seen here in Brighton. Some scallywag has made his opinion very clear.

Regardless of all this money going into the coffers, they seem unable to look after our roads properly.

Maybe we should ALL refuse to pay our Road Taxes, buy a few bags of DIY Tarmac from B & Q, and go fill in all the potholes ourselves. We could have the country pothole-free after just a day or so.

There are simply too many cars and too many people living on this small island. I am still avoiding potholes that I've been avoiding for several years. 

They simply do not care!

 

Gap Year

 

It's been 30 years to the day since my daughter, Tenpin, flew off to Bangkok with her friend Karen to begin their gap year tour of the world.

I don't know how many countries she visited, but it was lots. She was away for about a year.

Like all young gap year travelers, she worked her way as she went. Picking Tomatoes here, and Baby Sitting there. She did whatever came her way to pay her passage. Not once did she write home for funds.

She recently posted a load of photos on Facebook from her trip, amongst which was her passport photo (above) from the time.

She loved Australia so much that she now lives there, and has done for over 20 years.

THAT Single Malt.

 

I've decided that I will grit my teeth and finish the dreadful tar-flavoured bottle of Single Malt that I bought about a year ago. There's not a lot left, but in my constant battle against waste, I see it as my duty to finish it, and not use it as drain cleaner.

My daughter-in-Law, Suzie, was here the other evening and I asked her to taste it. She was as shocked as I was that such things were actually on sale; and at a serious price.

Anyway, I'm holding my nose and having a few sips every evening before bed. I'm treating it as medicine, although I have no idea what ailment it could possibly treat.

I've decided NOT to buy my annual bottle of Single Malt this winter, instead I've bought myself a bottle of Rum, a bottle of Tawny Port, and a bottle of Amontillado Sherry; none of which has yet been broached.

The Aerstone Single Malt hasn't improved over the past few months, it still tastes of tar. However, I'm determined not to tip it down the sink, and will endure the pain. It should be all gone well before Christmas.

Our animals.

I love this photo. I'd been trying for years to get the dogs to be friendly with our cat.

Bok (the dog) was OK with Freddie (the cat), but Freddie wasn't too keen on either Bok, or our Lab' Monty. Fred had been with us prior to the dogs' arrivals, and he considered himself 'The Boss'. The dogs were interlopers.

I have always liked the idea of a cat snuggling-up with the dogs to keep warm (or just for friendship), but this was never to be. They tolerated each other, but no more.

We don't realise how much our pets mean to us until they are no longer there. Poor Bok died on the operating table after a huge tumour was found on his Spleen. The Vet' decided not to revive him. It came as a huge shock, and I missed him terribly.

I knew Freddie wasn't well. He'd stopped eating, and was drinking a lot more than usual. One evening he curled-up on the sofa by my side, and went to sleep. Somehow I knew that I would never see him either awake or alive again. I stayed with him for an hour or so as he slept, then the next morning I found him dead.  I think it was how he wanted it to be.

I can't imagine living without either a dog or cat in the house; preferably both. However, losing them is dreadful. 

Luckily Billy is well, and at just 6 years old I'm hoping there's plenty of life in him yet.

 

Puffin.

 

This (below) is a bench dedicated to the memory of my old friend Puffin. I go past it twice every day whilst walking with Billy. Occasionally I sit and reminisce.

Puffin (a.k.a Peter Powell-Stevens) worked in the realm of 'The Arts'. I never asked him exactly what he did, but I think it was something to do with photography.

Sadly his marriage came to a sudden end and he quit the family home, which was at the end of our street. He wandered 'aimlessly' around Brighton, and to all intents he became a homeless tramp. On one occasion he even asked me for a few quid, which I was happy to provide.

To keep warm and comfortable he would often travel on busses; his favourites being the ones that went on a continuous circuit around Brighton, where he could hide away in a corner and go round and round all day long.

On one such excursion he died. No-one noticed; they simply thought he was sleeping.

Yes, poor old Puffin died on the No 7 bus, and no-one noticed.

RIP Puffin.

Uggs

I'd forgotten all about my Ugg boots.

I recently found this photo (below) and showed it to Lady M.

"I wonder whatever happened to my Uggs?" I asked.

"They're in your Shoe Cupboard" she replied; with a 'What a Plonker' look on her face.

Five minutes later she came downstairs holding my Uggs. "There you are" she said in frustration " they were where you left them after last Winter!".

Right. Roll on cold weather, I'm now prepared for whatever Mother Nature may throw at me.

I have warm jumpers, my silly Russian style 'Ushanka' hat, and now I have my cosy Uggs. It's already feeling cooler, and I'm almost looking forward to it getting cold.  

How could I have possibly forgotten my Uggs?

 

Is there any such thing as a 'Free Lunch'?

I know that there are still 7 weeks to go, but I thought I'd preempt a 'Bird Flu' shortage, and buy my (frozen) Turkey in advance. 

As you can probably see, it's just under 4 kilos, will feed up to ten people, and it's a Free Range Bronze turkey; just the type I like.

I think we'll be SIX for Christmas Dinner this year, so this will be perfect; with plenty left over for curry, sandwiches, and stock. A good sensibly sized bird.

I can remember my mother once buying a 27 lb bird that was so big it wouldn't fit into our oven; she had to cut its back off. I don't see any point in huge birds; three days of Turkey is enough for anyone.

Christmas wouldn't be Christmas without the Turkey, roast Spuds, and a few Sprouts. The wonderful aroma of a roasting Turkey accompanying our present opening, takes me back to my earliest Christmas memories, and has remained the same ever since. 

My Sainsbury's Loyalty card (Nectar) had amassed £25, and the bird cost exactly £25. In my book that's a free lunch. Thank you Mr Sainsbury; we shall eat/drink to your health on the big day!

p.s. I notice that Christmas adverts have started appearing on TV; far too early! Despite my recent purchase above, I think all commercialisation of Christmas should be banned until at the earliest, Dec' 15th.

 

Trump wins!

 

I have to say that I was not at all surprised at Trump's electoral success; Lady M, however, was shocked.

I cannot claim to have any insight into US politics, but elections are won and lost on TRUST, and it does seem very strange that (even with a convicted felon candidate) the electorate still found Trump more trustworthy than Harris.

With the help of all those celebs and dancing girls, Harris couldn't convince the people that she would make a decent President. Trump may be arrogant and megalomanic, but I presume that he says what Americans want to hear. I very much doubt if he'll manage to expel all those foreign criminals he talks of, much as we over here can't stop illegal immigrants sailing across the Channel in rubber boats. Some things trip easily off the tongue, but in practice it's not so easy.

So what can the world look forward to? Trump has made many promises. He is anti-Abortion, he wishes to install serious protective tariffs on imports; especially from China. He wants to finish building his infamous wall, stop immigrants eating cats, reorganise the Health System, he wants to cut taxes, to stop the Russia/Ukraine war, and re-introduce Patriotism into state schools; amongst many other things. He has promised to 'Fix Everything'.

All this sounds perfectly laudable, and no doubt Harris would agree with a few of his aims. It now remains to be seen how much of his manifesto gets put into action.

Our new Foreign secretary, David Lammy, has been insulting Trump in the most forceful manner over the past few years, so our relations with the USA are off to a jolly good start. Well done Lammy!

The population of the USA is roughly 346 Million, you really would have thought that there would have been a few better candidates around; but who am I to criticise!

The Spy in the Kitchen.

 

It does seem that a lot of what we buy these days comes from China. I know that their economy isn't doing too well at the moment, but that isn't for their want of trying.

When I look at labels, invariably it says 'Made in China', even our beloved MG cars are now Chinese.

But this isn't as innocent as it may appear. For a long time it has been suggested that major Chinese high-tech installations are filled with hidden programming that sends information back to China. It has also been suggested that at the touch of a Chinese button, certain essential services could be totally closed down. 

But it gets even worse. I now read that your innocent looking Chinese made Air Fryer is listening to all your kitchen conversations. These are beamed back to China, listened to, analysed, and information gathered.

So, if you have one, may I suggest that you give your fryer some false information.

Whisper into its ear "I hear that Taiwan is going to attack China", or "Xi Jinping is a UK spy", or "Next week Russia intends to release a new Covid variant over Beijing".

You can't trust anyone these days! 

Scissor Services.

Kimbo doesn't seem to have opened any supermarkets, high-rise apartment blocks, or suspension bridges recently, and I wanted to know why.

Has the supply of ribbon dried up? Are no new supermarkets being built? Are his services simply no longer required? 

He didn't seem to know why either. He always came free of charge, provided his own transport, and didn't even demand a Champagne lunch.

I suspect his lack of scissor work is because he isn't blonde with 'ample assets'. However, I've advised him to put his name on the 'I cut ribbons.com' website, and wait for offers to roll in.  

Anyway, we've just had breakfast together, where he told me all about a recent visit to Berkshire. He apparently gave a lecture to a very large university audience. So, someone still wants him.

Back to the day job Kimbo! He's off to Singapore any day; meetings, meetings, meetings!

How pleased I am to have been a lowly painter.

 

Autumn

We've been back from France for just two months. When we returned the trees were still covered in fresh green leaves, today they are nearly bare.

I do like this time of year, more to look at than to walk in; although our weather is still very mild with above 10 C temperatures, and some sunshine almost every day.

The 'Peace Garden', where I go twice a day, and Billy goes four times a day, is really beautiful in Autumn. I think old graveyards are at their best with fallen leaves and bare trees. There should be an aura of sadness in old graveyards, and Autumn gives us that.

I usually go for our first walk of the day at around 7.30 am, and often the garden is empty. It is so peaceful, with just us, a few Pigeons, and some Squirrels for company. Perfect.

 

Britain's most famous dish.

Ask any foreigner 'What is Britain's most famous dish?', and they will invariably reply 'Fish and chips'.

It's years since I've had pukka chip shop 'Fish-n-chips'. We do have fish and chips every Friday, but it's either fresh Salmon or Fish Fingers with a few oven ready potato wedges.

However, we decided recently to spoil ourselves, and Kimbo picked-up enough for three at our nearest chippie.

It was particularly good. Not too greasy, plenty of chips, and a good sized piece of Cod. Delicious.

I think next weekend we might have a Chinese! I've been really looking forward to a Chinese take-away for ages. I think we've now found the right place.

F*ck Farmers.

Our recent Labour Party's disastrous budget (their first in 14 years), had a number of nasty elements; the worst of which was an attack on our farmers.

Small family owned farms have been the backbone of British food-producing since Adam.

Passing-on the family farm from Father to Son/Daughter, free of inheritance tax, has meant that there has been a continuity in the quality and standard of UK food production.

But now, dear Rachel Reeves (who has probably never visited a family-run farm in her life) has decided that all this must end. All farms valued over £1Million will now attract 20% inheritance tax when passed-on.

Most small farms just about make ends meet, any profit usually goes on new equipment or infrastructure. Most also live with huge amounts of debt. There would be nothing left for a massive tax bill, making it obligatory for the beneficiary to sell-up. The knock-on effect of this tax will be disastrous.

I would like to suggest that the fragrant Ms Reeves watches the BBC TV programme 'This Farming Life' which shows exactly how strenuous life can be. We should be grateful to our farmers, not kick them in the boll*cks.

This Socialist policy is possibly the most disastrous of all their budget horrors. It will effect every one of us. Less food will be grown here, we will need to import more, and those who were doing a really good job for their country will end-up twiddling their thumbs. Smaller farms will, in future, end-up as home to little Penelope's Ponies and Alpacas.

When Labour promised not to tax 'working people', did they really think that farmers don't work? Farming involves skills that are passed from generation to generation, and you take all that away at your peril.

But don't be too depressed. No doubt a different party will reverse this shortly.

What on earth were Labour thinking!

Gin Club

Lady Magnon is a sociable, and gregarious, person. There is nothing she enjoys more than nattering with friends, and making new acquaintances.

As soon as we returned to England last September she immediately took-up her rightful place amongst the other 'Friday Night Club' members who live hereabouts (she was a founding member).

They are all women, and they gather in the house of one member or another, usually on Friday nights. They collectively put the world to rights, and no doubt moan about the men who share their lives (ahem). They also partake of their favourite tipples; I'm sure you get the picture.

These three above are NOT actually members, I believe they are Keith Richards' three younger sisters.

The FNC soon became known as 'The Gin Club'; need I explain why! We menfolk just despair and head for the pub' where we discuss knitting patterns, and admire photographs of Poodles and Yorkies.