Water, water, everywhere...

I watched The News on TV, almost in disbelief. They were warning us (yet again) of a water shortage this Summer.

Yes, I know it's hardly rained down here this year, but generally the UK is not short of rain. In parts of the country it usually rains 360 days a year, but not this year. 

This recent drastic mains burst (above) was near Gloucester, and is not too uncommon.

I remember reading some time ago that a staggering 40% of our water is lost through small underground burst pipes; apparently too many for the Water Co's to do anything about. So it's hardly surprising that we are short of a few gallons!

Whilst the bosses of the Water Co's take home HUGE salaries, the rest of us are threatened with ever-higher bills, and dried-up taps. We are being told to shower for shorter periods, and not to let the tap run whilst brushing our teeth, etc. Maybe not to drink too much either!

So, will someone in authority please pull your bloody finger out. We need Water just as much as we need Farmers.

What is more important than good clean drinking water (and home grown food)?

 

Protection

This must be one of the saddest and most disturbing things I've seen for many years.

UK school-children are being invited on 'social media' to buy stab-proof vests. The situation in many inner city schools is now so bad that children not only go to school armed, but are also being advised to go with protection against being attacked. 

Certain communities seem to stab each other as a first resort. They see their hero 'rap singers' doing it, so they blindly imitate.

How on earth have we come to such a situation? People have always stabbed each other, but not children, and not in such numbers.

Unfortunately one cannot rid the country of knives; every kitchen contains dozens. I suppose the only solution is to have all children walk through metal detectors when they arrive at school every morning.

What a very sad state of affairs. 

 

Chelsea Pensioners.

One of the most popular sights in London, especially around the Chelsea area, are the Chelsea Pensioners in their bright red uniforms and tricorn hats. It's always a pleasure to see them. The Pensioners are all OAP British War Veterans.

They live at The Royal Chelsea Hospital, but wander around The Kings Road like the rest of us.

I worked in Chelsea, and lived for a while in Bramerton Street, just off the Kings Road, where the pensioners were a regular sight. One would always greet them when they passed by, and if they came into a Pub' where one was drinking, it was traditional to buy them their pints; which I did on several occasions.

It was accepted that they would only have one free pint, so they would move-on to another Pub' and have another free one there. Their thirsts were endless, and they took full advantage.

So, if you should meet one in a London Pub'; buy him a pint. He'll appreciate it.

 

Biba, Biba.

 

Anyone of around my age or a tad younger (who lived in London in the late 60's and early 70's) would know not only know the clothes shop 'Biba', but also know of its influence over the UK fashion business.

The shop's founder, Barbara Hulanicki, had studied at the Brighton Art College (as did Lady M), and in 1965 she opened her very first clothes shop not far from where we live. They had teething problems and after a couple of years they moved to London.

I haplessly became quite a regular visitor to the new Church Street Ken shop. Girlfriends always wanted to go there (usually on Saturdays) and I often found myself forking-out for dresses.

One of the benefits of my Biba visits was meeting-up with 'The Twins' (above). They had been at the Brighton shop, and moved up to London in 1967 (?). They became an integral part of the shop's ambiance. I didn't get to know them socially, but we always had a chat, and were pleased to see each other.

Biba was quite a remarkable shop. It was always filled with crowds of beautiful girls, all trying on dresses, and creating havoc. There were half naked girls everywhere, with clothes all over the floor and elsewhere. The twins had their work cut-out just trying to keep the place tidy, and under control.

Later, Biba became 'a bit too big for their boots', and they moved into the vast old Derry and Toms shop on High Street Ken, where they branched out into household goods, a café, and even a restaurant. I remember thinking that the name 'Biba' had lost its 'original edge'. The only things I bought there were some Indian bedspreads, which we still have, and now use as dustsheets.

I'm not sure what happened after that but Barbara lost control of the company, and it eventually closed.

But what a real sensation it had once been! Great memories.

His one and only joke!

 

Something recently reminded me of my father, and his somewhat serious demeanor.

My late Father was quite 'stiff upper lip'. He had been 'traditionally' educated, and had studied accountancy (to a basic level) before working in The City for a major clothing manufacturer of the pre and wartime era.

He was a hard worker, and didn't go in for much in the way of frippery. He wasn't the most gregarious person, but he was well liked and highly respected. His idea of fun was climbing hills and mountains with his best friend, and best man, JS.

Father didn't play games or do anything that he considered infra dig, so you can imagine my surprise when he suddenly came out with a JOKE, one Sunday, at the dinner table...... viz

Enoch drove the horse and trap to pick-up his employer Lady Constance at the railway station. On the way home the horse let off an enormous fart. "I'm sorry about that your Ladyship" said Enoch apologetically. "Oh that's all right, Enoch" said Lady Constance "Actually I'd thought it was the horse".

That was it. Father's one and only joke; but a good one, I hope you agree!

I've heard it many times since; always in slightly different forms.

Crash

On 18th May 1943, exactly 82 years ago, this German Messerschmitt 410A crashed into our nearby churchyard. It was returning from having killed people in London, and (I presume) was shot down before crossing The Channel, and heading for home.

The pilot was found hanging from a tree; dead. And his co-pilot landed in the sea and drowned. No-one from Brighton was injured. The church is about 500 metres from the sea, so how they managed to be found so far apart is a mystery.

This (below) is the very spot today. You can see the Stone Archway (top right) into the Rest Garden in both photos. It's the entrance to where I walk with Billy twice a day.

It certainly looks a lot more peaceful now than it did in 1943.

Veggie Wednesday.

We always eat 'veggie' at least once or twice a week, but I had abandoned my strict adherence to 'Veggie Wednesday'. But like Fish on Fridays, it is a ritual worth keeping.

I have mentioned several times about my favourite 'Compost Fry-up'. I never tire of it. It may not look so wonderful, but I can assure you that it is!

I usually take a mix of mostly-ready-cooked Aubergine, Courgette, Potato, Pepper, Cauliflower (and usually some Haricot Beans) cut into chunks, then fry in plenty of Olive Oil and Butter, before sprinkling with a good spoonful of ground Cumin and a little Salt. I serve with a topping of Cumin Seeds.

The Cumin changes what would otherwise have been an ordinary vegetable mixture into something very special. 

Lady M agrees with me that we should have more 'meatless' days. Perhaps we'll instigate a 'Meatless Monday' as well.