Siblings

This photo shows my father and his older brother; a right couple of junior swells!

The picture would have been taken well over 100 years ago, and was amongst a bunch of old photos I recently brought back from France.

I never really knew my Uncle. He didn't live too far away from us, but he obviously wasn't 'family orientated'. He had no children, so we had no cousins on my father's side. However, my father looked after his interests to the end. He was a bit of a Playboy.

One enigma about my Uncle, that will now never be solved, is about his 'given names'. His third Christian name was Terenzio. Why he should have been given an Italian name was never explained; my father just laughed about it. There were no heart-throb singers/actors around at the time with that name, and as far as I know we have no Italian ancestors. Although, looking at his photo above, he does have a rather 'Mediterranean' look about him!

I really know very little about my Uncle. He was sent off to Ceylon to grow Tea, then a few years later had to be repatriated having contracted para-typhoid. He later ran a business in Crawley. After his death his wife (my Aunt) moved to Hove, but we never met.

I would have liked to have known him; he was a bit of a 'character'.

Why Graffiti?

It's a question we must all have asked; What is the Point of Graffiti?

The simple answer must be 'Dumbing Down'. To make places that were smart, less smart. To make places the 'middle classes' live into places where no-one would want to live. To turn gentility into slum.

To bring everything down to their uneducated level.

It's a sad phenomenon that children now feel obliged to spray squiggles over everything. Many learn it at school where they are encouraged to paint on playground walls. 

The very first graffiti I remember seeing was in the mid-60's when I saw the word 'Zoot' written on London Underground (the Tube) walls. At the time I didn't know what it meant, but I later learned that it was fans of Zoot Money who were doing their best to advertise his name.

Zoot Money was an English R & B, Soul, and Jazz, musician. He died just a year ago.

Since those days the Tube has become a classic target for the Squiggle Merchants. They spray over everything, inside and out. How they are never caught (and made to remove it) I cannot understand. Anyone travelling on the Tube these days cannot fail to be amazed by the appalling state of the trains and stations.

When these people ARE caught, a team of Squigglers should be sent to their home and given a free hand; covering everything they, and their family, own with scrawl.

You might have guessed; I really hate graffiti.

 

Salt-n-Pepper

I don't know about you, but we always seem to have too many Salt and Pepper dispensers on the table.

We have stainless steel electric ones that are not very reliable, shop bought see-through plastic containers with good quality contents that come in their own simple mills, a combined salt-n-pepper mill that works well, and best of all a French antique glass two-bay dispenser that is used by finger-pinching the amount needed (in foreground below).

Someone once said that my preferred French glass twin containers are not very hygienic. That may be so, but the user-friendly advantages far out-way any risk to health. Anyway, we do tend to wash our hands before eating.

I have several other versions of the glass container. I have various English examples including a pair of classic Chippendale cellars, as well as more simple Victorian cut-glass pots.

I had a friend who never went anywhere without his small antique pepper grinder. It was a nice little object, trimmed with silver, that he kept in his pocket at all times. He hated the idea of poor quality pepper! I know how he felt.

I shall continue to use my French glass containers. As far as I'm concerned they are perfect; and don't tell me otherwise! 

 

 

Those wretched bottle tops

OK, a lot of EU big-wigs want to save the planet, as well as all us humans who live on it.

So they introduce an infuriating law that says that bottle tops on all plastic bottles of 3 liters or less must have the tops connected to the bottle.

This is so annoying. I haven't yet met anyone who thinks it a good idea. We all just tear the tops off and use the bottles as we always did before. 

In our household it is Lady M who is in charge of recycling, and she is very insistent that we do our bit. What the council then does with our glass, plastic, or paper, is anyone's guess. We have no control over what happens once it leaves the recycling bins.

Will it save any Dolphins, or our children from having their brains filled with micro plastics? I have no idea. What I do know is that 'Nanny State' politics really gets on people's nerves.

I know there'll be one or two Snowflake-Dungaree-Wearing-Eco-Woke-Do-Gooders who will defend the policy, but, reassuringly, everyone I've discussed the matter with thinks it's a load of bloody nonsense. And it doesn't stop people simply discarding their plastic bottles on the ground once finished.

One really has to wonder what Brexit was all about when we still follow every new EU ruling!

Having said all that, I'm actually very anti litter/waste/beach rubbish/etc. I just wish that the young people who eat their lunches in our nearby graveyard were the same; Filthy Pigs. Better to EDUCATE THEM, rather than annoying the rest of us!

Well done!

 

The small park (Rest Garden) where I go twice a day with Billy (and he goes twice a day with Lady M) has a dedicated group of volunteer gardeners who meet every Wednesday morning.

They weed, trim, plant, and sow. In fact they do everything other than mow the grass; which is undertaken by the council who have a big mower!

I came across a fellow dog-walker, a while ago, who was building (or re-constructing) a raised bed in one un-visited corner of the garden. I asked him what they planned to plant in it, and he asked me, in return, what I would plant in it.

Of course I replied VEGETABLES, and I thought no more about it.

So you can imagine my delight when, on returning to Brighton recently, I found that the raised bed (above), and another small area (below), have been planted with Pumpkins. You can just see one in the middle of the picture above.

They have beautiful foliage, plus the advantage of bearing wonderful fruits. I'm just wondering how they will decide who gets them!

The garden also has an Olive tree (I missed the fruiting period), and a Fig tree, but I think they could go further. There is a Chestnut tree but the fruits are tiny. I think they should have a decent grafted Chestnut, a Victoria Plum, and maybe a few good Apple trees. 

I would be happy to buy them if permission was given to plant them.

Why not?

Left to Rot.

Once upon a time there was a nasty landlord who reigned over a huge portfolio of local properties, many of which were taken in exchange for unpaid interest on money loaned at highly inflated prices.

He has various criminal convictions, and is still reported to be a 'Billionaire'.

It may not be known about outside of East Sussex, but this man also built himself a huge mansion (Hamilton Palace, below), that has been abandoned 'half-built'.

I'm not sure quite why he wished to build such an enormous building, but no doubt he wanted to impress, and stick two fingers up at more established society. I believe he had an argument with his architect, and the work came to a halt.

Anyway, here is the 'Palace' in its present state, with all the scaffolding still in place. Whether or not he will ever continue with the building is another question. I HAVE heard that he's now intending it to be a Mausoleum for his future 'resting place'.

I shan't mention his name (other than he's known as 'Attila the Landlord) but I'm sure you can easily find it; or already know it.

It's amazing how such people can go through life committing crimes, building-up a fortune as a result, and still be free to roam the streets.

 

READ THE LABEL!

Boursin has always been a favourite in our family, and it appears regularly on the cheese-board.

I bought this packet on Saturday, and was expecting my usual hit of Garlic and Herbs.

However, something didn't taste right, and I remarked about it to Lady M.

It was only then that she pointed-out that it was 'PLANT BASED', and not proper cream-cheese at all. I hadn't read the label and had grabbed the wrong pack. I had no idea that they even made such a product. It really wasn't pleasant; only vegans would eat this.

So, what to do? I crushed a bit more Garlic into it, and added a pinch of Salt and Pepper, and gave it a good mix. It was considerably better, but that's all.

Next time I shall read the label. Be warned!

 

My Blackberry Jam.

It was the final push of my jam-making extravaganza this Summer. Suddenly beautiful Blackberries were everywhere; just asking to be made into jam.

I'd not made Blackberry jam before; nor, I think, had I ever eaten any. I've had Blackberry jelly which I've always liked, but not actual jam, containing actual berries.

Eating the jam is an interesting experience. The Blackberries themselves are ever-present, and I can understand why this isn't made commercially. I probably find their presence acceptable because it was ME who made it.

The flavour is wonderful, but I'm not quite so sure about the little round bullets; although I'm not against them, in fact I find them rather amusing. However, I hadn't expected them to be quite so 'firm'. 

Verdict: Flavour 10/10. Edibility 6/10. It will NOT go to waste.

 

Mandy.

One doesn't wish to continuously rub salt into Labour's wounds, but they really have got themselves into deep poo, both politically and financially.

There are few politicians with as controversial a history as Mandy (Lord Mandelson); most recently being sacked as the UK's Ambassador to the USA. My own late Father-in-Law, who was at our Embassy in Washington in the mid-50's, would have been horrified at his inappropriate appointment.

Mandy's political career would best be described as 'pushy'. He actively sought-out the rich and influential, and used them to his advantage. This has eventually caused his downfall.

His long and close friendship with convicted paedophile Jeffrey Epstein was doomed from the beginning. Most people (other than his pal Sir Keir Starmer) knew that he had overstepped the mark; and he had to go. On Wednesday at PMQ's, Starmer was still saying what a wonderful chap he was, and had his 'total confidence'. Starmer sacked him a few hours later.

Mandy will no doubt now spend much of his time in The Lords, where members receive a daily attendance allowance of £323; over £1,500 a week. I'm sure he'll also be offered a few 'directorships', and other paid appointments. That's how things develop for such people. He won't go short of a few quid.

Mandy, better known as The Prince of Darkness', will probably be popular as an 'After Dinner Speaker', and will no doubt soon appear on the boards of several quangos and charities. I wish him luck. 

Can Starmer possibly still have the 'total confidence' in Mandy that he so earnestly claimed on Wednesday? Coming so soon after the shameful Rayner affair, one really has to wonder about Starmer's judgement of character!

It's all in the slogan!

 

Scotland used to attract visitors from the world over with their catchy slogan 'SCOTLAND, THE BEST LITTLE COUNTRY IN THE WORLD'.

However, some bright McSpark decided to find a new snappier slogan, more suited to the 21st C.

The appropriate Scottish government department allotted £125,000 (some say more) to find something really punchy; and the search was on!

New slogans came from all quarters, but one stood out from all the others; and here is the winner!

'WELCOME TO SCOTLAND' Which came from Scotland's renowned 'Leith Agency'. It now greets arrivals in airports, etc, throughout Scotland.

Good isn't it. Give that man a McKnighthood.

 

Damn and Blast!

Observant visitors to this page will know that I am an avid wild-Mushroom hunter. The woods around our home in France offer plenty of Girolles, Cepes, Hedgehog Mushrooms, and Trumpets of Death. And our favourite Parasol Mushrooms pop-up almost anywhere. We always stick to these five well-known varieties. 

We had really been hoping for a few Cepes before we left last weekend, but it wasn't to be. It had rained as needed, and it had been hot. Sadly, for some reason, they didn't grow.

However, I now see from local reports that there are beautiful Cepes everywhere (above, 2 days ago), and the local marketplace is busy every afternoon, with merchants buying all they can get their hands on.

I cannot tell you how annoyed this makes me. One of the greatest pleasures of living where we do is the availability of a good variety of wild mushrooms; especially the Cepes.

We did have a few way back in June, with three days of Cepe omelets,  but I'd really been hoping for more.

Such is life.

 

Veggie Monday, Tuesday, Wednes......

 

We are eating much less meat than we used to. This is not for any ethical reason, or even financial reasons, it just happens to suit our way of life. It's no longer just Veggie Wednesdays.

The latest recipe that has come my way involves two of my favourite vegetables, cooked in a favourite way, in a favourite pan.

I apologise for the borrowed photo, I forgot to take my own; but it was very similar looking.

I love Pak Choi, and I love Mushrooms (I used Chestnut Mushrooms). A few minutes in a Wok with some chopped Spring Onions and some Garlic, combined with some Hoi Sin sauce, and you have a really nice simple meal. This was the first time I'd cooked it, and it was really good. Not something you'd give to guests maybe, but as a mid-week easy meal it was perfect. Lady M thought it might have been better with some Rice. Maybe she was right.

We did have a slice of Chocolate cake afterwards.

Back to Brighton life!

 

You would be forgiven for thinking that all car-drivers in Brighton are permanently DRUNK.

In fact their wavering around in the road is due to the POTHOLES everywhere. One needs to 'meander' in order to avoid what happened to ME two years ago, when I broke a spring by driving into a particularly deep one. It cost me £250 to repair.

I have just returned from a major 're-stocking' shopping trip, and I was pleased to see that the big Sainsbury's I go to have changed their shopping-trollies. We no longer have to put a £1 coin (or a token) into a slot; they are now slot-less. Whoopie!

Church News. It seems that during the 3 months I've been away, no new Vicar has been found for our nearby church. Maybe there is a shortage of Vicars (no surprise there), or maybe no-one wants to move down to Brighton; it could be a daunting change of life-style. It's the same in France; our lovely old village church can find no priest, they have even had to bring-in Polish ones for the very occasional service.

No sight as yet of the fragrant 'Tax Avoider' Ms Rayner.  I expect she's laying low and trying to let her disgrace die-down a bit. But, no doubt she'll be back; snapping at ankles.

In the park (rest garden) where I take Billy for his walks, there has been a new 'raised bed' built in one discreet corner. I asked the chap who built it what he was going to grow in it. He asked me what I would grow in it. I replied "Vegetables". I notice that it is now filled with pumpkins!!! I hope I'll be offered one.

And finally, I'm pleased to announce that I've just spotted the above advert in my local area's free monthly mag'. Sound healing to 'balance my energy system, and allow sympathetic vibrations to occur in my every cell' sounds super-dooper. And at only £45 an hour for a 'one to one session', it has to be the bargain of the year.

Do you think it'll cure my bad back?

Nabbed

 

I return to Blighty only to discover that poor Angela Rayner has been getting a lot of stick.

She's a classic 'rags to riches' gal, and good for her for that! But that doesn't excuse her hypocrisy.

She's, frankly, much more suited to being a Trade Union 'rabble rouser' than a senior politician. Such people can shout "Tory Scum" with impunity, but not as the deputy leader of a major political party.

Nor can they fiddle their tax payments on a house purchase (her £800,000 Brighton seaside 'second home' flat), especially when they are Secretary of State for Housing.

Of course, according to the fragrant Angela, she did no wrong; it was everyone else's fault. She took advice from the wrong adviser (don't we all). 

We would all use HER tax adviser, as long as we didn't get caught. Unfortunately all senior politicians are under permanent scrutiny, and she WAS caught! A small question of dodging a £40,000 tax bill was bound to surface.

She knew she couldn't escape the whole murky scandal, so she's finally thrown in the towel.  

So, ta ta Ducks; it were grand knowing yer. 

In many ways Angela was quite fun. She was Starmer's trusty Pit Bull, sitting by his side in loose cannon pose. She was also the darling of the 'lower classes' who saw her as their mouthpiece against all those who achieve and succeed. Along with Rachel Reeves and David Lammy, she was one of that trio of hard-line Socialist front benchers who hate the rich but are desperate to join them.

The delightful David Lammy has now replaced her as Deputy Prime Minister. Gawd 'elp us; it gets worse and worse!

Home!

 

We made it; but not without incident.

When you drive from south to north, or even north to south, through France, you realise what a stunningly beautiful country it is. Beautiful roads, beautiful countryside, and NO POTHOLES. Also, the weather was perfect.

We had a slight incident in Orléans when some idiot Tram Driver almost sliced Debi in half; it seemed (wrongly) to think it had 'right of way'. And another classic incident in Rouen where I took a slightly wrong turning and had to reverse into oncoming traffic (don't ask). If I hadn't I would have ended-up in Le Mans.

Otherwise our Hotel (above) was as dull as ever (it's changed it's name but not it's dreadful décor), we've had to endure this awful 'picture' ever since we started staying there. We met some charming people en route, and the traditional Salami and Coleslaw sandwiches I made were even more delicious than usual.

I'm sorry to say that the very first thing we noticed after leaving The Ferry were the amount of Potholes everywhere. Someone really has to address this!!!

When we drove into Brighton at about 11 pm, it was buzzing with young revelers, all out enjoying themselves. It was reassuring to know that even with a recent newcomer killjoy in our midst, it doesn't seem to have reduced the ardour of the local youf. The streets were awash! 

Mostly, we felt so sorry for Billy. He's never complained about the trip, but I'm sure he doesn't like it. What I do know is that he's very pleased that it's over.

Thank you for your kind comments of Friday/Saturday, I shall now continue to respond to any future comments as usual.

September

So, here we are; it's September already, and that means just one thing for us; we leave our little home (above) and return to Blighty.

It's been a great Summer. Plenty of hot weather, plenty of swimming, and plenty of friends, family, and good food. I would say that it's been one of our best Summers for a long while.

Now we head back to Brighton (below), and to a very different way of life. Inner city living, with lots of traffic, houses, and (friendly) people; our own little bijou home is actually very peaceful.

 

Billy will meet all his doggy friends again, and be stroked by strangers wherever he goes. I will meet-up with good friends as if we'd never been apart. And Lady M will return to greet her Friday Night Gin Club pals; I know she's missed them.

I'm looking forward to seeing my Tomatoes, the Figs halfway down the street, and the Apples right in front of our door. I'm also looking forward to seeing our neighbours again; and hopefully meet 'The Bishop'.

The pool is now covered, all the pre-Winter pruning completed, and everything put away until next Spring. I've given the lawn one last mowing, from now on it'll be the task of our gardener to look after everything. I hope I haven't missed anything. Kimbo will be visiting so I'm sure he'll tell me if I've left anything out.

So, we have our memories, quite a few photos, and several empty 'magnum' Champagne bottles. It was really nice having Boo Boo with us again; what a bright boy! Even my old friend, the painter Simon Fletcher, came for a visit with his lovely wife Julie, it's been a great year for seeing old friends.

On a practical note, this was the year when we finally got rid of France's most incompetent internet supplier (Orange), and when I returned their router, etc, I included a wee note telling them what I thought of them! They should be ashamed of themselves even charging me for it! We are now signed up with Elon Musk; his Starlink service is 100%.

And some good news just in; my grandson Suave Harve will be starting at Oxford in a couple of weeks. Well done H.

We'll be taking to the road any minute, so I'll spare you from my ramblings for a couple of days. As usual we shall stop half way up in Orléans, then be back home late the next evening (midnight?). Debi the Compact Royce has been cleaned, oiled, and watered. She is full of petrol, and eager to set-off.

So, I wish myself bon route. I shall see you on the other side. 

I shall have to start speaking English again. Toodle-pip.

Please excuse me if I don't reply to any comments; I shall be driving!

No sooner ordered, than delivered!

I occasionally buy from Amazon. Some things simply aren't available nearby, and it's very convenient.

I wanted some plain, wipe-able, place-mats, for our dining table here in France; so I looked online.

I found what I wanted for around 11 Euros, and was about to click on 'Buy Now' when I saw what you see below.

Are they bloody kidding??? They are VERY specific; delivery would not be before Friday 13th of March 2026. It WOULD be a Friday 13th wouldn't it. Are they comedians?

I have never seen that before. Usually things arrive within a few days; at the most a week. But to actually advertise that it could be dispatched within 6 to 7 months is frankly OUTRAGEOUS. These are just ordinary place mats for goodness sake.

Normally I wouldn't bother reading the 'small print'. My search for place mats continues!

 

Autumn

We always leave France in early September, just as the Chestnuts are thinking of falling.

I used to look forward to going to the woods mushrooming, and returning with a pocket-full of Chestnuts. They are very beautiful tactile things, as well as being delicious. The locally grown ones are particularly good.

My preferred way of eating them is to cut a cross into the pointed end, then boil for about 20 minutes. You can probably see in the photo below that they begin to open up at the cross, making it easier to get at the cooked nut inside. A little salt, and you have a delicious snack to accompany your evening glass of wine. 

Some of the things I miss most about not being here through Autumn are the Chestnuts, certain wild mushrooms, and beautiful quiet misty mornings. Perhaps we should come a month later and stay until early October. 

September is a beautiful month in Southern France; we shall miss it. It's already beginning to feel autumnal. A real mixed-bag of weather.

Old Mo.

I just came across this old photo (again). It shows Lady M, our two kittens 'King and Barnes' (named after a Sussex brewery), our dog Hamlet, and 'Old Mo', a friend from England. It was taken at our original farmhouse in about 1973.

Old Mo was a Fruit Tree Scientist. Before retirement, he had been the senior Scientist at the East Malling Research Station in Kent.

Mo lived next door to my people in West Chiltingon Sussex, and we became great friends. He was a fascinating man, but a tad eccentric. He was delighted to hear that we were moving to S W France, and instantly asked if he could visit. Of course we said 'Yes'.

I can't remember exactly how he reached us, but I do remember that it involved a train, bus, and hitchhiking. He was that sort of man; nothing was too much for him. We had no phone, so making contact with him was impossible.

I remember that he was also very interested in the local Walnut trees. Trees were his life. Whilst with us he taught me so much; I could have listened to him all day long.

He always wore a suit with shirt and tie, whether he was relaxing at home, sunbathing in his garden, or working at his beautiful espalier orchard called 'Kings and Princes'. His orchard was about a mile away from his home on some rented land, and consisted of several long rows of immaculately pruned espalier Apple and Pear trees. He had also dug a small underground cellar where he kept bottles of Cider and a few glasses. I never did ask what he did with all the fruit!

Dear Old Mo is long gone, but just seeing his photo again brought back wonderful memories. He was always smiling. Looking at the photo again reminds me of what a lovely man he was.

The original photo is slowly fading away, but on advice from Deejohn I have tinkered with it. It's much better now..

How time flies.

It only seems like yesterday when we were opening-up the pool, and looking forward to a Summer of swimming.

The weather forecast for the next week isn't good; Autumn has arrived. We're now having intermittent rain, with very little sunshine; even though the temperature is still around 20 C.

So, we've decided to close down the pool earlier than usual, in fact we've scheduled it for the next dry day (probably tomorrow). It's not a big job closing down, just a matter of covering the pool itself so that no creatures, leaves, or detritus can get in, and making sure that everything is turned off, and clean. It's no more than a morning's work.

I hate closing the pool; it's like a drawn-out way of saying a sad goodbye to a well loved friend. We won't be swimming for 9 months, but it seems like for ever. 

And look; we have this extremely spikey Yukka (I think), which is having its first ever flower. 

I've cut back all the fig branches by the pool gate, the Wisterias are all pruned, and one of the bigger Oleanders has been cut back to almost ground level. I'm told it will flower better next year.

Everything has been put away, locked away, and a note written of what I've done. That makes things simpler for next year when we open up again.

We've had our final swim (22 C), and we've stored away our trunks and bikinis. 

Swimming is all over for another year!