Shorts.

I have to admit that I do love wearing shorts. However, with my pasty-looking over-wintered legs, I shall resist until I arrive in France this Summer. Then it'll be shorts-only for several months

When I return in September, I shall be wearing shorts until my kneecaps begin to turn blue.

A lot of men wear shorts all year round here in Brighton; it seems to be not only a fool-hardy fashion, but also a demonstration of bravery/virility. Kimbo only brings his out (above) when the temperature reaches 20 C (he had been playing tennis with his youngest).

I've been out in the car this morning (yesterday) and I was amazed by the number of people in shorts. I can assure you that I was in a tiny minority in my longs.

There is something very pleasant about wearing shorts; having one's legs open to the air is very invigorating. If I had nice bronzed legs I would be wearing mine now. As it is, I shall have to wait another month or so. Yes, I am self-conscious!

 

It all started with him!

One of the nearest gravestones to where we live, on the edge of the churchyard, is that of Sake Deen Mohammed.

If you have an Indian Restaurant near to where you live (and I'm sure you do), it is thanks to Sake Deen Mohammed; late of this parish.

Mohammed had a foot in several pies. He was a hotelier here in Brighton where he specialised in 'curative waters'. He developed the 'Vapour Bathhouse' (Sauna?), and offered his clients a 'Massage with Indian Oils'. All very exotic.

In 1810 Mohammed opened the UK's very first Indian Restaurant, called The Hindoostane Coffee House in London's Portman Square. 

Considerably later, in 1926, Veeraswamy's opened in Regent Street (where I have actually eaten), which is now England's oldest running Indian Restaurant.

Mohammed's gravestone is rather hidden behind a wall, so very few people actually see it. But frankly, even if they did, they wouldn't know much of his history.  Nothing is revealed on the stone's script.

This is the great man himself (below). Handsome devil, ain't he!

So, the next time you visit your local 'Indian' for a Vindaloo, some Papadums, and a pint of Lager, think of Mr Mohammed. I pass his grave twice a day!

Think yourself rich. Think yourself beautiful.

 

I have always thought that the reason why so many criminals look like criminals is because they 'think themselves' into being nasty-looking and thuggish so they can impress their friends. They like the idea of being seen as 'hard and evil'.

I have also often thought that girls who think themselves to be attractive, beautiful even, eventually grow-up to become so.

A person with a happy disposition will always look more attractive than someone who is permanently miserable. And it shows.

I think the same can be said about 'wealth'. An ambitious person who dresses, and thinks, like a successful person, will probably eventually become wealthier than his or her peers who think of themselves as stuck in poverty. 

The mind is a wonderful thing, and one's attitude towards how one sees oneself, can have a huge impact.

Perhaps it's all a question of 'confidence'. Belief in oneself is vital in life.

Green Leaves

What a beautiful day it is. 

It must be much like the below all over Europe. Temperatures are rising, leaves are sprouting, and it's beginning to feel like Summer.

I'm convinced that the colour GREEN is good for us! With lawns being cut for the first time this year, I know that the delicious 'green' aroma of freshly mown grass certainly is good for us.

Bees are now everywhere, Tulips are flowering, and fresh-air outdoor-campers are again to be found sleeping in the churchyard. Late April is the season of re-birth. Birds are nest building, Lambs are in the fields, and people (including me) are out freshening-up the paint on their front doors.

Men are wearing shorts again, women are wearing pretty Summer dresses, and people are smiling more than previously. There are very few downsides to life at the moment; other, maybe, than hay-fever for some, and some aphids appearing on our Rose bushes.

This week will see temperatures of around 20 C on most days. A little way off my favourite of 25 C; but not too far.

No, really; all this is true!

 

The Pope died (below)

Wealthy Tamara Ecclestone (daughter of Bernie) and her husband Jay Rutland went away on holiday on the understanding that their £75 Million Kensington mansion was well insured. Unfortunately, whilst they were away sunning themselves, some scallywags broke into their home and half-inched £25 Million quid's-worth of Gems, Watches, and Cash; in Britain's biggest ever domestic burglary. Of course they were very upset, but Tamara and Jay became philosophical about the whole affair knowing that their insurance company would reimburse them. 

Sadly when it came to the crunch, their insurance folk pointed to a tiny print 'exemption clause' that said Cash, Watches, and Jewelry, were NOT included. Oh dear. Moral: Always read the tiny print. Let that be a warning to you!

There has been confusion this year about the date of St George's Day (above). Most of us 'celebrate' it on the 23rd April each year, but this year The Church has decided that it should move to the 28th April. The reason being that no Saint's day is permitted during the week before, or the week after, Easter Day. I can confidently report that NO-ONE took any notice of The Church, and we all waved our little flags on the 23rd.

LOST & FOUND: Nothing surprises me about the things I find around Brighton. But an ERRANT KNIGHT? That's a first. He was sitting on a box that holds the salt for treating icy Winter roads. I wonder where the rest of the set is?

Here is Putin in church (below) at Easter. The patriarch of Moscow praised him for keeping Russia as 'a bastion of values'. I think that says a lot about the Russian church. Is wanton mass slaughter and destruction really a bastion of Russian values? I suppose we all have to agree that it is!

Back in 2014, the Tory/Lib Dem coalition government opened floodgates that they never could have imagined. They introduced a new law that said that the SHOPLIFTING of goods worth up to £200 wasn't really very naughty; and as a result the country's shoplifters went crazy, and they even came from abroad to take advantage. WHAT DID THEY IMAGINE WOULD HAPPEN?

She's known as a 'One Woman Crime Wave'; 44 year old Tanya Liddle (below) has been arrested 400 times, she has admitted to 350 crimes, and has had 180 convictions; all for shoplifting. Just over the recent Easter weekend alone she stole over £1,300 worth of 'everything imaginable'.

She's permanently in and out of prison for short terms, and her local stores in Northumbria dread her being released. No doubt she'll be back inside again very soon.

May I suggest that Starmer and Co change the silly £200 law, and make Shoplifting a SERIOUS CRIME again. Why make it easy for shoplifters?

I was just reading a paper by Prof Thomas Sowell about 'Slavery'. Sowell, who has spent a lifetime researching such things, tells us that the number of White People enslaved in N Africa by the Barbary Pirates, far exceeds the number of Black People enslaved in the USA. Make of that what you will. His point was that paying 'reparations' to families of victims could be tricky, if not impossible.

It's been a quiet week; it must have been the Easter effect.

Putting the World to Rights.

We used to have regular 6 am breakfasts together on Wednesdays, but we have now changed it to 7 am on Fridays.

Kimbo was always dashing off to catch his London train, so our breakfasts were a tad rushed. We eventually saw the folly in this, and we now meet on Fridays when he works from home, and we can be more relaxed, and discuss (and solve) all sorts of world affairs.

I like to think that I offer a 'Full English', but it's more of a 'Half-Full English these days. Kimbo has decided that he no longer likes Baked Beans on his toast, or under his fried Egg, so they have now been abandoned. 

Instead we have Bacon, Haggis, Knack's, fried Tomatoes or Mushrooms (or both), along with a fried Egg on Toast. Kimbo always arrives on the dot, and is in charge of the Coffee. Our timing runs like clockwork, and we sit down to eat at precisely 7.05 am.

We usually discuss all manner of important issues, but yesterday we became embroiled in old photos of our area here in Brighton. They were mostly taken around 1971, so not very old. Many of our nearby roads are now totally different; some have even disappeared. Our own bijou house was built in the 70's and the road doesn't appear at all on any old maps or photos.

One of the more surprising revelations was the amount of Pubs there used to be in the area (there still are). Almost every street corner had a Pub, and signs can still be seen of their previous existence. When discussing the matter we agreed that pre-TV, Pubs were far more important than they are now. And a pint of wallop probably only cost 2p, which helped. 

I really enjoy our weekly breakfasts together; long may they continue.

I should add that my own plate was considerably less charged than Kimbo's above; I'm on a pre-Summer diet.

 

Apples.

Here in Brighton we have two 'communal' Apple trees right outside our front door. Both are good Apples, but we are just about the only people who actually eat them!

The one above is supposed to be a Bramley, but it's unlike any Bramley I've known. Anyway it's a very good 'cooker' and is covered in flowers.

The one below has almost finished flowering, but you can probably just about see a bit of lingering blossom. It is a very good 'eater' and offers big red fruits. 

I have no idea why other residents don't pick them. They know when they are ready to eat, because we announce as much on the street's WhatsApp page; yet no-one comes to take any.

In France my next door neighbour had the most wonderful Cox's Orange Pippin tree, which produced huge amounts of wonderful fruit. They didn't pick the fruit so I used to go scrumping early in the mornings and bring a few home. HE THEN CUT THE TREE DOWN, and bought his Apples 'plastic wrapped' from a supermarket instead. 

All my life I've been lucky enough to have lived with orchards of Apples, Pears, and Plums, and to be deprived would be difficult. I planted a large orchard in France; much of which was, sadly, sold along with our huge converted barn; but luckily we still have plenty of fruit (below). 

When we return from France this coming September, the two trees above should be covered in Apples.

Our fingers are crossed.

 

La Markle.

She's barely ever out of the news; she makes sure of that!

Ms Markle is an enigma. She began her UK adventure by being well liked after Prince Harry announced their engagement. She seemed like a 'nice', slightly exotic, and simple person, and the Brits were ready to welcome her into the royal fold.

Then once married, and she became a 'royal', she suddenly changed. Whether it was her true character that emerged, or whether it was her new situation that changed her, is difficult to know.

She soon became very unpleasant with her staff, and even HM The Queen had to admonish her over her disgraceful treatment of an under-gardener. Her staff 'jumped ship' regularly claiming harassment and bad manners, etc. She then started being nasty about the Royal Family itself.

She claimed to be a 'victim'; of what no-one's sure. She invented stories of 'racism', and eventually persuaded Harry to quit the UK, and find peace amongst California's rich and famous. She had her title, she had the status, and she was determined to use it, and take the world by storm.

She certainly is ambitious. Sadly those ambitions don't seem to be backed by any real knowledge, and she goes from idea to idea, abandoning each one as they fail. Currently she is pretending to know all about cookery, without ever (I think) having attended Catering College, or trained under a pukka Chef.

I find her a tad 'creepy'. She has the type of face I could never trust, and she is 'pushy' which is a trait not liked in the UK.

Anyway, I wish her well, and hope that she will eventually find her niche. I do think it would be wise for her to take a back-seat for a while, as the more she pushes herself forward, the more people seem to dislike her.

She will either end-up very rich, or disappear into obscurity. It remains to be seen.

 

Up one minute, and Down the next.

I really thought my luck had changed. Originally I thought I'd found a 'tenner', but when I saw that in fact it was a MILLION POUND NOTE, I was ecstatic.

I was walking through the churchyard with Billy and there it was, staring up at me like like a gift from above. My hopes were soon dashed, however, when I realised it was just a bit of 'Hell and Damnation' advertising.

On the back it told me that I wouldn't go to 'heaven' if I'd ever lied, stolen anything, or lusted.

Well that's that then. No Million quid, and no place in 'heaven'. I'm downhearted and despondent.

 

St Nicholas Church.

You will have heard me talking about my local church quite often. It's a lovely old building, and I feel privileged to live so nearby.

We don't exactly overlook the church, but we are less that 4 minutes slow-walk away. We can hear the bells from home, and it is the most iconic building in our immediate area. It is known as 'The Mother Church of Brighton'.

Built of flint with stone corners and openings, it is a classic English 'Village Church', and is a Grade 2 listed building. It makes our tiny corner of this quite big city seem more intimate.

The church dates back to 1068 and was mentioned in the Domesday Book. That original church was later destroyed and the newer church built over its remains in the mid-14th Century. 

The churchyard surrounding the church is now mostly devoid of tombstones or gravestones, and the replacement well-tended area of grass is popular with sunbathers, office workers who eat lunch (and leave their detritus), and the occasional dog-walker. The old gravestones are now situated around the periphery of the gardens.

Some of the gravestones that remain are of the more interesting people who were buried here; one of whom was Phoebe Hessel (below). Hessel followed her lover into the army disguised as a man, where she served for many years along-side him. She was eventually wounded and the regimental Colonel's wife discovered the truth about her gender.

If you have the time it is worth looking at her history on the web. She was a remarkable woman.

We have a very pleasant peel of hand-rung Bells. The original set were installed in 1777, and replaced with the present set in 1922. The bells are rung from just inside the door of the Bell Tower in the top photo. I often sit on the gravestone, which you can just see outside the door, to listen to the bells and watch the ringers working. It all feels very 'English', and gives me a real feeling of 'belonging'.

Jay-walking.

As I was driving home from my shopping trip last Saturday morning, a young woman (with her nose glued to her phone, and wearing earphones) suddenly stepped out into the road just ahead of me. Luckily I was able to brake hard and swerve to the right, and I avoided hitting her. She signaled her apology, I waved back and smiled, and continued on my way home. 

As a result it made me think of the term Jay or J walking, and I wondered what the Jay or J stood for. So, as usual, I consulted Mr Google.

In fact he wasn't particularly helpful, but he did offer some information.

It seems that the term comes from 'Jay-Drivers' in the USA, where the word Jay referred to 'Greenhorns', or 'Rubes', who were drivers of horsedrawn carriages who drove on the wrong side of the road. Unfortunately, where the actual term 'Jay' itself comes from isn't clear.

These days, of course, the expression refers to pedestrians, such as the one I nearly ran over on Saturday.

Apparently Jay-Walking isn't actually illegal in the UK, but it is certainly unadvisable!

Another week, another yawn

Naughty politicians are always in the news; I think the UK must have more than her fair share. 

Ex-Tory MP, Craig Williams, has been charged with some type of 'insider information fraud', having placed a £100 bet on the date of the last UK general election (which, amazingly, he got right). Williams was a senior aide to Rishi Sunak, and presumably was privy to such 'secret' information; although why it should have been 'secret' I have no idea. Maybe the bookies shouldn't take bets on such silly things, and stick to the gee-gees. I can see another slap on the wrist on its way!

The fragrant Socialist MP Tulip Siddiq (above left) is in the poo again. She has until April 27th to attend court in Dhaka Bangladesh on corruption charges, and possibly seek bail. Failure to do so will now involve Interpol who have been put on 'red alert' and will arrest her anywhere in the world. She is still claiming not to have done anything wrong; but everyone facing a court hearing always says that!

I shall make no further comment about the situation above in Birmingham, other than to say that Labour's paymaster bin-men's Trade Union, Unite, have payed £7.6 Million to The Labour Party in recent times, and £10,000 to the fragrant Angela Rayner. They ain't going to budge until they get some return on what they paid for. Need one say more? A large group of Unite 'activist' bosses have now suggested that they sever their connection with Labour and (don't laugh) join with 'Lefty Greens' or 'Free Palestine activists' instead. Well they would wouldn't they! It has just been revealed that 28 of Starmer's 'ministers' are card-holding members of the Communist-leaning Unite Union.  I believe the stink in Brum' has became even more atrocious!

Amazing!!! We often 'correctly' think of The Law being an Ass, but on Wednesday it proved itself to be quite sensible. The Highest Court in the UK, The Supreme Court, declared that Women are Women, and Men dressed as Women are NOT Women. It has never seemed a tricky dilemma to me; a Woman is someone who is born with female chromosomes, and that never changes. Men cannot have a chromosome transplant, it simply doesn't happen. This is not to say that Men who dress as Women don't have rights, of course they do, but they simply cannot legally change sex, enter Women's sports as a Woman, or use Women's loos or changing rooms. And Male criminals will no longer be allowed to say "I'm a Woman", and ask to go to a Woman's prison. At last we're seeing some common-bloody-sense. 'Biological sex' remains 'Biological sex'. Full stop! It now remains to be seen if the Trans-Snowflake-Woke-Brigade abide by the Court's declaration. Expect a few mis-spelt banners outside Downing Street.

Over in the USA it has been revealed that Kamala Harris (remember her?) paid some very large sums of money to her celebrity supporter friends, or their 'production companies'. Oprah received $1 Million, Cardi B $59,000, Beyoncé $165,000, and Lebron James $50,000. When you donate money to the election campaign of your preferred candidate, you really don't expect that money to be passed on to the candidate's chums in exchange for public support. We do expect our 'leaders' in the democratic West, to always do the right thing. With Harris and Tr*mp that seems to have been overlooked.

 

And finally. You may remember the photo I showed last week of an extraordinary 5 car 'pile-up' on the A1 involving 3 police cars. A man has now been charged. 20 year old Iranian Mazyar Azarbonyad has been arrested and charged with dangerous driving, no licence, no insurance, and a few other things. Well well well. Surprise surprise!

Tally-Ho!

Easter.

There are only TWO major Anglican religious festivals in the UK; Easter and Christmas. Christmas I love, but Easter for me is a non-starter.

I do find it strange that the church can't even decide on a fixed date for the event. They have with Christmas, so why not with Easter? It would simplify matters.

Frankly, MY Easter simply means extra Chocolate, and Roast Lamb. Nothing else. Our nearby church holds an 'egg hunt' for the children in the churchyard; but even that is all about Chocolate!

I really wasn't sure for most of my life, but I now know that Easter celebrates the resurrection of Jesus, and not as I used to think; his crucifixion. How this became to be a Chocolate and Lamb Fest' I really don't know. But any excuse for eating and drinking is OK by me, and, I imagine, by most people in the UK!

So, may I wish you all Happy Chocolate Eating, and if like us you will be eating a roast Leg of Lamb, I hope it will prove to be delicious. Our Gigot will be eaten on Monday.

Spring

There's no question about it; Spring has definitely Sprung.

The trees are 'greening', and there are Bluebells in the churchyard. Sadly I think they're Spanish Bluebells rather than our natives, but even so they do look very nice. You might just see the church in the background.

Meanwhile in our own handkerchief-sized garden, we have some lovely almost black Tulips, plenty of Nasturtium flowers, and our Grape Vine has leaves. 

Billy has also been feeling the effects of Spring, and has been enjoying what all male dogs enjoy at this time of year. His taste in 'partners' is none too selective, and their owners very understanding. I had thought that after having had the 'snip' that his ardour would have waned; but not at all. He doesn't stop. He's an embarrassment!!!

Roy Brooks

Back in the mid-60's when I was living in London, everyone had a favourite Estate Agent; Roy Brooks. His business was just down the road from where I lived off Chelsea's Kings Road.

Brooks was a rarity in the world of house selling; he was HONEST, and often insulting.

I wasn't a house buyer in my London days; I had no money or even intent. But looking at Brooks' adverts was always amusing.

I can't imagine when this one (below) was published, but a 3/4 bed house in Battersea for £5,995 sounds like a bargain, even if it was a tip.

Many Estate Agency's adverts changed after Brooks' honest approach, but no-one that I know of has ever followed his example 100%. It's not surprising that he became London's most popular, and probably richest, Estate Agent.

 

RIP Father Ted.

My daughter's Father-in-Law, the Stephen Spielberg lookalike, amusingly known as 'Father Ted', sadly died last Saturday (April 12th).

Edward D Evans (his real name), was one of the UK's finest jewelry makers. By producing works such as the one below, you can imagine his clientele.

It wasn't easy trying to find just one piece to illustrate his skills. This simple white gold and diamond necklace may not be his most spectacular, but it's as good as any and is staggeringly beautiful.

'Father Ted' lived in both Brighton and Florida. When here, we would meet for a few pints at my local. Considering his fame and social milieu, I always felt slightly privileged to call him a friend.

He was quiet, unassuming, and highly talented. His works decorate the most beautiful women of the world, and are in the collections of the most wealthy of Europe and beyond.

We have all heard of Fabergé, but most top jewelry-makers remain unknown to the public. Their retailers are well-known (Garrard's, Cartier, Mappin, etc), but not the craftsmen who meticulously create the individual pieces.

Father Ted was also a great collector of classic cars. His 1934 Rolls PII (above) was possibly his most treasured possession, which I believe had been sold. His F-Type Jag was his day-to-day shopping car. His collection in Florida is also impressive.

I'll miss 'Father Ted'. We didn't get to meet as often as I'd liked as he was always busy, but when we did it was always a pleasure.

So, goodbye Edward, it was a privilege to know you. Your amazing craftsmanship will live for ever.  RIP Edward D Evans (Exceptional Jeweler).

 

Vanity Fair.

As I have said many times before; if you don't learn something every day, you have wasted that day.

I've recently been listening to a serialisation of Vanity Fair on the BBC's Radio 4 Extra, and, in my ignorance, I kept wondering where the title originated, and what it meant. So I finally consulted Prof Wiki.... viz

In John Bunyan's original 1678 book 'The Pilgrim's Progress', the pilgrims stop en route between The City of Destruction, and The Celestial City, at a city called Vanity, where there is a never ending Fair (in the centre of the illustration above). Bunyan sees it as an attachment to all things sinful. An example of living without god. A place to be avoided.

Bunyan claims it's the playground of the idle and undeserving rich. Thackeray's 1848 novel is filled with all sorts of intrigue, but not to the level that Bunyan himself had previously suggested.

So, there you have it. 

 

My phone

Everyone has a mobile phone these days, and I am no different.

My iPhone was a 'cast-off'; I think it was originally Lady M's. She upgraded.

I'm not really a Scrooge, but I don't like wasting money if I can help it. So, even though my phone has no Sim Card it does everything I need, for FREE!

I'm not the type of person who goes everywhere with his nose glued to his phone; heaven forbid. I use my phone at home via my internet connection. I can find as much info' as anyone, I can make video calls to anyone anywhere in the world, and I can even use it as a torch in the dark mornings. It does everything that other people's phones do, other than being able to phone people from in town (which I wouldn't do anyway), and having to pay a lot of money for the pleasure. It takes reasonable quality photos, and I can send them anywhere at the press of a button. And it also tells me the EXACT time.

I'm very happy with my phone and I believe I'm saving around £100 per month (which I now hear is NOT so) by not having a SIM.

I call that a bargain.

 

Veggie Pie.

Now that I've discovered where the ready-made Puff Pastry is hiding in my Supermarket, my world has become a whole new Oyster.

My title of 'Veggie Pie' isn't quite correct as I did add some Bacon bits for a hint of flavour, but as we all know, most Veggies eat Bacon when they're alone. Otherwise it was just Potato, Onion, Leek, with herbs spices etc. I meant to add lots of grated Cheddar, but I forgot.

I must say, it was very good; with half of it left over for a light Sunday Lunch with salad.

Suddenly gaining confidence with 'pastry' has opened-up all sorts of opportunities. The filling in the above was really delicious, and the pastry top was just as I'd hoped. I'm now trying to think of all the other delightful things I can make.

I should add that we seem to be eating far more Veggie dishes these days. I know this wasn't 100% Veggie, but it was 'almost', and that's fine by me!

 

It's been an interesting week.

Things really aren't going too well at Keir Hardie Mansions, the Socialist headquarters.

The man beaming over the shoulder of his chum Sir Keir 'freebie' Starmer (below) is none other than MP Dan Norris.

Dan defeated Tory MP Jacob Rees-Mogg at the last election, and became the new member for North East Somerset and Hanham.

Sadly Mr Norris probably won't attend parliament for some while, having being arrested following allegations of rape and child sex offences. A group of police were recently seen at his home carrying away boxes of 'evidence'. Norris has been suspended from the Labour Party, and Starmer is said to be 'miffed'. Watch this space.

Meanwhile over in Russia, Tsar Putin has allegedly been plotting to sabotage the UK's under-water gas pipelines. Russian boats have been spotted lurking above our major pipeline from Norway, and our 'spies' inform us that an attack is imminent. One previous attack had already been attributed to the Russians.

Since our major Oil/Gas Co's have been stopped by the government from further drilling in The North Sea, we import around 40% of our Gas supplies from Norway (who DO drill in The North Sea), making us open to all sorts of problems. Much better, and cheaper, to produce our own. The Luddite Socialists/Communists closed our vibrant Coal industry back in the 80's, and current bizarre government policy, under Ed Miliband, is hoping that wind and sunshine will somehow replace the more traditional forms of power production, to create most of our future energy needs. IT WON'T.

As a result of the current threats, we are now advised to prepare for 'blackouts' and lack of gas, and a handy guide has been issued (below).

Luckily I have everything apart from bottled water, and the battery-powered radio, neither of which I shall bother about.

I'm not sure quite why a lack of gas should require me to have a first aid kit, but I have one anyway. I presume the Swiss Army knife is to repel any Russian Gas-Inspectors who might knock on my door.

Here's an interesting story that you might have missed. In Kyrgyzstan, the Muslim Governing Body have banned women from wearing the full body Niqab. Apparently they fear that there could be nasty terrorists lurking in disguise, hidden under the clothing. People have been saying much the same thing in Western countries for decades but the authorities have done nothing. It takes a Muslim country to understand the true danger of Muslim clothing! 

You really couldn't make it up.

And finally. Can you possibly imagine what could have happened here (below)? This recent six car pile-up occurred on the A1, and wrote-off all six cars. Four police cars and two private cars.

What on earth were they doing? I do want our police to chase criminals wherever they need chasing, but this looks like totally reckless behaviour. Have a close look at the photo and see if you can work-out what happened!

p.s. I know you were all wondering. And, yes, in The People's Socialist Republic of Birmingham the rubbish continues to pile-up, the Rats get bigger and bigger, and the charming Trade Union member bin-men are all probably sunning themselves at their holiday homes in The Algarve or Tuscany. 

Kate Adie has just pronounced that the Brummie accent (Birmingham) is the most disliked in the UK. I'm not surprised. Toodle pip!

The Cherub

I haven't seen The Cherub for several years (other than on WhatsApp). After leaving France he's moved around the world; adventure after adventure.

He's lived in Oz, Mexico, Florida, Cayman, and now in Thailand (amongst other countries). He's a well travelled young man. 

He and his big brother Boo Boo are having what I consider to be the best education possible for boys of their ages. They go to school of course, and as long as they gain the right qualifications in order to chose what to do when they leave, they will have had a really solid start on which to base their future lives. Nothing compares to the experience of travel, and seeing the world at first hand.

When I was at school several of my friends lived abroad, and they always seemed 'worldlier' than the rest of us.

I don't think either of them are 'sporty'. They do like swimming, but I haven't heard that they play traditional games such as Rugby, Cricket, or Tennis. Maybe they do?

Anyway, I'm pleased to see that they don't spend all their time twiddling their thumbs on a phone. Here he is playing a board game against his Uncle Kimbo. Kimbo didn't mention who won!

 

No, not Jam, it's 'Spread'.

 

Imagine that you are 'Little Miss Perfect', and you are looking for a factory that will make some jam for you.

The one you find (allegedly The Small Batch Jam Co of Pacifica California) already makes expensive jam, so you consider the factory ideal. 

Miss Perfect (let's call her MM) asks them to make some Strawberry 'Spread' for her; not 'Jam'. She wants it runny, and she promises to make sure it sells well by suggesting a 'Royal' name. The brand name for the jam (spread) is to be 'As Ever' (an anagram of Arse EV; EV = Exceptionally Vengeful).

MM wants fancy packaging, regal looking art work, and an overall feel of luxury to fit in with how she sees herself. She wants to charge a lot of money for it, and wants people to think that they have been privileged to buy it. This is to be a 'spread' above all other spreads (even though it's just ordinary runny jam), and she intends to become very rich by putting her name on it.

MM wants her clients to believe that the spread has been made in her own kitchen, so the actual factory location must be kept a secret. A secrecy deal is made!

The launch date is revealed; not unlike some Hollywood blockbuster movie hitting the screens. A few celebs are chosen to receive complimentary jars of the new jam (sorry 'spread'), and there is a tension in the air as jars are opened at various nouveau riche breakfast tables across California. Jam-expert young actresses give their opinions, and the jam (sorry 'spread') is declared OK, but no more! The fact that it's runny annoys some, but in general it's said to be almost as good as Bonne Maman, or Welch's; although the price of $14 for just 215g is said to be excessive.

Miss perfect is also said to be producing Flower sprinkles (whatever they are), Shortbread Cookie mix (Betty Crocker?), Honey, and Tea Bags; all produced from 'her own imaginary kitchen'.  

I will give MM one piece of advice; don't try selling in the UK. People here are not that gullible. We like our Jam not to dribble off our toast, we like our Shortbread biscuits to be ready-made from Scotland, we like our Honey to come from a small producer at a Farmer's Market, we want our Tea to come from Twining's, and as for the Flower Sprinkles (whatever they are) I suggest they are sprinkled somewhere else!

Noah's Ark.

I think our scientists, and even our archeologists, are becoming sillier and sillier by the day. 

Their latest nonsense is that they think they've found Noah's Ark somewhere in Turkey.

The story tells us that god promised to save Noah and his family from 'The deluge', as long as he built an Ark into which he would place, and save, two of every animal species from around the world. 

Noah himself was, apparently, a farmer, wine grower, and drunkard. Whether or not he also had the skills to build a boat is another question. But for one man to build a HUGE boat that would take hundreds of thousands of animals, along with their food, water, bedding, etc, would have taken a gargantuan miracle; but the bible isn't short of miracles.

But now some clever boffins think they have actually found the remains of the Ark in Turkey. They have found some geological structure that vaguely looks boat-like, and they believe that this is the Ark. Well, IT ISN'T.

It's a fun story for children, but of course it's just a story. No single man could possibly have constructed such a huge boat capable of carrying hundreds of thousands of animals.

The geological structure below, is either natural, or is an ancient enclosure. I go for the former! What it ISN'T is the remains of a story-book Ark.

We're living in an age where people are desperate to believe in fairy stories. I mean; just look at that shape above. OK, it has a sharp end and a blunt end, but if that had been a boat it would have sunk before leaving the shipyard (or even Noah's farmyard).

Anarchy in the UK.

In about 1965 I attended an 'Anarchist Meeting' in a room above a Pub' behind The National Gallery. I had been walking through Trafalgar Square with a friend, when someone thrust a flyer into my hand advertising the meeting which we noted was to begin within the hour, and we fancied a pint anyway.

We went to the Pub', drank our beers, then (for amusement's sake) went upstairs to see what the Anarchists were up to!

They were a pretty odd bunch (not unlike the lot above). More angry about being oddballs I suspected, than anything to do with changing society or righting grievances.  

We listened to them for about 15 mins. They wanted to bring London to a standstill by 'short-circuiting' The Tube, blocking roads, and a few other things that I don't remember.

These were attention-seeking dreamers wo had taken the wrong course in life.. There was no logic in their beliefs, and their threats were frankly pathetic. It was all very low IQ. We quit the meeting discreetly, and when we left the Pub' we just happened to see a policeman.

I told him that there was an Anarchist Meeting going on upstairs, and that they were planning to disrupt London life.  He just smiled and said "Oh I wouldn't worry about that lot; they're always up there spouting the same old rubbish". "We know who they are!".

So that was it. They were plotting away, in their own little world, and no-one took any notice of them; not even the Cops.

It was all rather sad!

Interior Design Masters

If you have watched 'Interior Design Masters' on BBC TV, you will have seen my near-neighbour Michelle doing some judging.

I now hear that she has been signed for two more series of the programme, along with Alan Carr.

I can't say that it's a favourite programme of mine, but I did watch one episode, just to see what Michelle was up to in her spare time.

She's selling her lovely house here, and moving to Kent, but I'm not sure if it has already sold or not. I still see her around and we chat. I don't like to ask if she's sold!

Her cottage is one of the prettiest in the area. It is built of 'London Stock' brick and is 'double fronted', it faces the three acre open field (or more) of the old Churchyard, and has a really lovely small garden. The house is quite pricey, and the interior is not to everyone's taste; but that's interior designers for you! 

My daughter always said that if it ever came up for sale she'd buy it; it was her favourite house in all of Brighton. However, she now has her own beautiful modern home in Brisbane, so her ambitions have been put on hold.

I'll miss Michelle when she goes.

 

Men Behaving Badly - Barbeque

It's BBQ season down here. Yesterday evening I could smell charcoal and grilling meats everywhere. It was 20 C, and it felt like mid-Summer.

I know I've posted this video before, but it always makes me laugh out loud. I'm sure you'll enjoy it too.

Salad Days.

You can tell the temperature's rising because salads appear at lunchtime on the Cro table.

The substantial vegetable soups will be put on hold for a while, and out comes the Paté, simple salad, and even some Garlic bread. It really does feel as if Summer is on it's way.

It's only 17 C today, but it feels like 25 C.

 

Here we go again.

 

I'm looking forward to a week where I can report bad behaviour from Tories, Liberals, Greens, or Farage's bunch; but for the moment it's only the Socialists who provide anything news-worthy, and even that isn't very exciting.

British Birmingham MP (yes, British) Tahir Ali, has been campaigning to build a new airport in Kashmir. WHAT? It seems that many of his Pakistani Birmingham constituents have to travel for many hours to get to their nearest airport before returning to Birmingham from their Pakistani homes. Ali has already been in trouble over his silly Kashmir airport nonsense, so I won't make it any worse for him; but shouldn't he be looking after British affairs, not Pakistani ones? Birmingham certainly needs his help; at present it's buried under 17,000 tons of stinking household rubbish, and huge rats are running wild. Apparently the stench is becoming all invasive. 

It's good to know that everything's going well in the People's Socialist Republic of Birmingham (an outpost of Pakistan).

This one's a classic. After the disgraceful expenses claim by Tory MP  Peter Viggers, back in 2009, for a 'Duck Island and Duck House', we now have another crazy expenses claim from fragrant Socialist MP Taiwo Owatemi for £900 for her doggy-woggy Cockapoo 'Bella'. Her charming second-home landlord has imposed an extra £900 'dog-rent' for Bella, and Owatemi wanted us taxpayers to fork-out. Is that really what MP's 'expenses' are for? Shame on her!

The one thing you can say about the Albanians is that they are very good 'businessmen'.

This TikTok advert (above) claims to get illegal immigrants across the channel in a rubber boat, with 100% safety 'Guaranteed'. They also talk of luxury hotels with flatscreen TV's. All that, and plenty of free spending money from our government; all for the price of just £3,000 (3 mij paund). 

I almost feel like trying it myself. I could pretend not to speak English, and live in relative luxury until they discovered who I was. A Channel cruise, a stay in a luxury hotel, free food and spending money; it sounds perfect, and all for £3,000. A bloody bargain!

And finally, of course the big news of the week is once again; His Majesty, Donald Tr*mp. His genius idea of imposing tariffs all around the world has caused international ill-feeling, markets to crash, and reciprocal threats from almost everywhere. Did he think through his policy properly? I imagine not!