A diverse offering twixt the interesting, the unusual, and the amusing.
Tuesday, 6 October 2015
Teddy boys appeared when I was about 8 years old, my small native Surrey village boasted about five of them; and very exotic they were too.
There was a couple in our village, Mr and Mrs F, who used to work for my people (she worked in the house, and he did the garden; that sort of thing), and they had a son called Robin.
Robin was amongst the last intake to do his National Service; a two year stint in the army. He went away as a typical village youth, and returned as a motor bike riding Teddy Boy. He had become the village's Mr Cool.
Teds wore long drape jackets, drainpipe trousers, winkle picker shoes, bootlace ties, and wore their hair in a big frontal quiff. The bunch above are pretty typical.
As a boy I'd never really thought about fashion as such, so suddenly seeing these very slick and stylish young men around was quite a revelation; I remember being seriously impressed.
It’s dawn over Trelawnyd.
The sky looks like one *Turner *would have painted with big clouds tinged
with pink and blue.
I’ve just taken *Dorothy *outside...
1 day 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 46 years I've lived in S W France. I am a painter by profession, and writer by desire. Lady Magnon and I live in an ancient cottage, in a tiny village, in perfectly tranquil countryside. We have a vegetable garden called 'Haddock's' (this may crop up from time to time), plenty of fruit trees, and a view that takes the breath away; 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!