A diverse offering twixt the interesting, the unusual, and the amusing.
Sunday 28 June 2015
Something you'll probably not see again... thankfully.
I myself was 'forced' into the ring at quite a young age with no warning or prior training. When I was at Prep' School, aged about 11, someone announced that there would be a boxing match against some other school, and a list was posted of who would fight whom. It was as simple as that.
I was a reasonably strong boy and won all but one of my bouts. A nasty little creep called Michael Macintosh (his mother was Eve Boswell, who sang the hit song Pickin' a Chicken), tripped me up during a fight, and I fell flat on my nose; he was declared the winner on account of the amount of blood on the floor. Normally I would have beaten him with my eyes closed and both my hands tied behind my back; but...
This clip almost brings back memories, but there was no blubbing in my day!
HEY ..... I'M BACK ..........
*Hi, I've been very absent haven't I ? My life has taken a bit of a turn
as, after my husbands chest infection, he has deteriorated. I have to look
4 weeks ago
The difference between an optimist and a pessimist, is that the optimist enjoys himself whilst waiting for the inevitable! I AM that optimist!
This is a daily, optimistic, 'photos and comments' blog. I make no judgements (only occasionally), just notes. If you wish to comment in any way at all, please feel free. Everything and everyone (except the obdurate and dictatorial) is very welcome.
I was born just south of London, but for the past 50 years I've lived in S W France. I am a painter by profession, and writer by desire. Lady Magnon and I live between an ancient cottage in a tiny village in perfectly tranquil French countryside, and a bijou townhouse in Brighton UK. In France we have plenty of fruit trees, all situated amongst a view that takes the breath away, in the UK we have a handkerchief sized patio. We also have a Border Collie called Billy. I try to treat our planet with respect, and encourage others to do likewise (without preaching).
Contentment is a glass of red, a plate of charcuterie, and a slice of good country bread. Perfect!