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!

Price comparisons.

Normally I wouldn't bother to read about supermarket price comparisons, but for some reason I did with this one when it appeared on my news feed.

I'm not someone who buys things because they're 'cheap'. I buy because I need things, and I want reasonable quality. The price usually doesn't concern me; unless it's a lump of Beef or a case of Pécharmant. 

Firstly I should say that other than at Christmas I would never spend £130-150 on my weekly shop. Usually it's around £60-80 (including wine).

I was pretty certain that Aldi would be cheaper than Sainsbury's, but do I care? No, not really!

I have visited Aldi, and their vegetables were both very cheap and very good, but certain other things were a little dodgy! A simple tin of Sardines in Olive oil was horrible, and some cheap red wine was undrinkable. Even cheap wine should be drinkable!!!

At least at Sainsbury's I know that the quality will always be good, and if that costs me a few £'s more each week, then so be it. I do buy at Waitrose too, but only a few 'luxuries' (Pork pies).

Price comparisons are all very well, but if it's not exactly the same product, it means nothing. For example, you can't compare Heinz Ketchup with Aldi's own brand.

I don't look at prices when I shop. I know what I want, and I buy regardless. Nor do I grab things from the shelves that aren't on my list. I'm a very strict shopper in that respect.

No, I shan't be swapping Sainsbury's for Aldi, but this doesn't mean that if I come across an Aldi that I won't buy some of their vegs.

 

NOT a Cornish Pasty

Me and pastry don't really mix. It's something I usually leave to Lady M to play with.

However, I noticed recently that some Puff Pastry I'd bought was getting near to (or past) it's use-by-date, so I decided to do something with it; I thought I'd attempt a Pasty. No, this isn't a Cornish Pasty; it's very much a Brighton Pasty.

I diced some Potato, sliced an Onion, chopped some German smoked Sausage, and grated some Cheese. I mixed it all together, seasoned it with salt and plenty of freshly ground black Pepper, and filled the rather large sheet of pastry forming it into what I thought looked like a giant pasty.

I gave it almost an hour in the oven at about 180 C, and we divided it between ourselves for lunch.

It wasn't like any Pasty I've tasted before, but we both agreed that it was very good. Maybe next time I will use some Beef, or at worst some Bacon, but for what it was (using just what was hanging around) it was excellent.

Verdict. The chopped smoked Sausage wasn't as good as I'd hoped, but otherwise it was delicious. I'd give myself 8/10.

I shall certainly do it again.

 

Vinted

I don't know what you think about buying second-hand clothes, but I, personally, had never considered it an option.

I've fancied buying myself an England Rugby shirt for years, but never found the exact one I wanted. So I decided to look on 'Vinted'; and there it was, in my size, the colour I wanted (dark navy), and a top quality shirt too.

New they cost about £45, mine cost £10. It's as good as new, it arrived clean and recently washed, and it fitted me perfectly. Maybe I was just lucky.

I don't think I shall make a habit of buying like this, but I really didn't have much to lose. I could always have returned it too.

The shirt is from a top quality maker, so I was reasonably sure it would be what I wanted; and it was!

I think I had a BARGAIN!

 

Poor Billy.

I don't think it's anything to overly worry about, but Billy does occasionally give us some concern.

Yesterday morning I was sitting in front of my laptop, at about 5.30 am, when Billy came over to me and rested his head against my knee. Usually he stays on Lady M's sofa until we head-off on our first walk of the day at around 7.30 am.

He looked a bit soulful, and I thought he was trying to tell me something. Naturally I stroked him for a while, then suddenly he collapsed into a seizure, and twitched and stiffened on the floor. I continued to stroke him until he recovered about a minute, or less, later. Afterwards he seemed fine, but a little quieter than usual.

It's happened a couple of times before, on both occasions whilst out walking. Having looked on the net about such things his ailment seems to be described as a 'Petit mal' in terms of seizures.

I'm not too worried about him, and I certainly don't want to give him medication. He's had about five seizures in his six years, so I can't really describe them as regular. However, if they started to become either weekly or daily I would take him to the Vet'.

For the moment we'll keep an eye on him, and keep our fingers crossed. He doesn't seemed affected by them in any way.

 

Tr*mp shoves fellow leader

There is one person's name on most people's lips at the moment, butz not necessarily for the best reasons. I suppose if there's one major criticism I have of Tr*mp, this short video from about 7 years ago (below) illustrates it perfectly. Pompous and arrogant.

I have no idea if his policies are good for the long term future of the USA; I hope, for their sakes, they are. They certainly aren't for international relations; especially with Europe. Markets are crashing globally.

Of course an important world leader has to be seen; and, seen to be in control. What he/she should not be is arrogant and pushy. Nor should he be seen to constantly support the 'baddies'. He should not be seen to support aggressors over those who defend themselves against aggression; nor should he be aggressive. Britain gave the US its two most important attributes; the English language and Democracy. What on earth happened?

It is always better to be on good terms with friendly foreign countries and not to insult them; it's called 'diplomacy'. Keep the 'goodies' on your side, and don't alienate them. Did no-one tell Tr*mp that?

Countries such as the USA, the UK, France, Germany, etc, should be promoting peace around the world, not using blackmail to clinch peace deals. It's fair enough to punish those who misbehave (The Houthis are a good example; as are Hamas and Hezbollah), but otherwise we should be peacemakers and benefactors.

In the video, Tr*mp shows himself to be totally arrogant and pushy. Neither are good qualities for a world leader. He might have shown some humility had he stayed in the background, and allowed others to usher him forwards. Could someone have a wee word with him!

Traditional Sussex gastronomy.

Although we have plenty of excellent restaurants around, we have very few dishes that suggest that they actually hail from god's own county of Sussex.

I suppose the two best known are Sussex Pond (above), and Banoffee Pie. I've only eaten Sussex Pond once, and the maker had made it far too sweet; and as for the more recent Banoffee Pie, it's really not my bag.

Belloc said that all Cheese made in Sussex is simply called 'Cheese' because we have no need to extol its virtues by giving it silly place-names. He was right!

There is a Sussex Pie, but having looked at the recipe I would simply call it Apple Pie.

There is also a little known dish called Sussex Hog Pudding, which is a type of sausage made from non-sausage materials, and should probably be relegated to 'the dustbin of history'. 

Incidentally; I have recently heard that there is to be a 'Sussex Jam' sold in the USA. May I suggest that this is NOT Sussex Jam, and I would NOT recommend anyone buying any. It may well contain traces of toxic 'bullying attitude'.

Another fascinating week.

In a recent release of 'secret papers' in the USA, it was revealed that Mandy (Lord Mandleson) met with his friend, the convicted paedophile Jeffery Epstein, on a couple of occasions, whilst he was the UK's Business Secretary and First Secretary of State. Epstein was under house arrest at the time.

Mandy, who is now the UK's Ambassador to the US, claims that "He never had any kind of professional or business relationship with Epstein". When asked recently by a Financial Times journalist what was his relationship with Epstein, Mandy allegedly told him to "Fu*k off". Here's Mandy (below) on a shopping trip with his good chum Jeffrey.

It's officially 'Spring'. Birds are nesting, the temperature is rising, and the fragrant Angela Rayner has decided to go back to her 'ex', the extreme left-winger Sam Tarry.  This charming Corbynista now-ex-MP was booted out by Starmer. Love is in the air, but I don't imagine Sir Keir will be best pleased!

I read that Harrods are to pay the victims of Al Fayed's sexual abuse around £300,000 each in compensation. Why are Harrods paying this? Surely it's for the estate of Fayad himself to pay up, not for a business he once owned. It was seedy Fayed who was responsible, not some big shop in Knightsbridge.

A 'Severn Trent Water' sewage worker, Damon Joshua, was sacked recently for describing Hamas as 'Disgusting Terrorists' after the October 7th massacre. Has telling the truth now really become a sacking offence?

Sadly, 289 Pubs have already closed this year, and with Rachel 'Freebie' Reeves's new alcohol tax, we can expect a lot more to come. They are slowly digging away at Britain's culture; pint by pint, school by school, farm by farm. Outlook for growth has been slashed, retail sales are falling fast, and our High Streets are dying. She also blamed 'everyone else' for her having to slash Welfare Payments again. So, if your disability payments are going down, blame Putin not Rachel from Accounts. However, have no fear, according to the Socialists ALL IS GOING REALLY WELL.

The illegal channel crossing 'boat people' have been very busy. A new 'all time high' record has been set, with 5,847 already having arrived this year. They must have heard that the government are extending the use of nice hotels to accommodate them when they arrive. Lucky for some!

The 300 year old Fulneck School in Rachel 'freebie' Reeves's own constituency has sadly been forced to close, and it has been revealed that Bridget Phillipson, The Minister for Class Warfare, who is overseeing the destructive Education Tax has not visited a single one of the numerous high-standard schools that will be forced to close. Well, why would she?

Now this may SHOCK you. LGBT Youth Scotland has advised 'self harmers' to use clean razor blades. No advice about not doing it, but simply to use CLEAN RAZOR BLADES. You really couldn't make it up!

The poor people of Gaza seem to have woken-up at last. They have suddenly realised that all the bloodshed and destruction is the fault of Hamas, and they are becoming angry (above). They want food, peace, and some sort of future! It's just a pity that they didn't condemn Hamas back on October 8th after their disgraceful massacre. They should have rounded-up the perpetrators, and dealt with them appropriately.

And finally, the endless supply of rejected Ironing Boards in Brighton continues (below). This latest one looked to be brand new, and in PERFECT condition. I'm wondering if I shouldn't start a collection!!!

 

Saffron Walden.

Saffron Walden has recently been declared to be 'The Best Town in Britain', and it just happens to be where my family comes from.

The 'Grandfather Clock' of which I am custodian, was made for the family in nearby Newport, just South of Saffron Walden, in 1736, and has (obviously) remained with us ever since. It will pass to Kimbo in time.

I'm not totally sure but I think the family were small farmers. I know they owned a part of Wicken Fen which was known for its Reed production, so maybe they were Thatchers as well. But they might have simply sold the Reeds to Thatchers; I just don't know.

A late Aunt (my father's cousin) told me that they'd owned 60 square miles of fenland, but that CAN'T POSSIBLY have been true; it would have been most of East Anglia! Even 6 square miles would have been a lot. I suspect it might have been 6 acres. Wicken Fen later became the first property owned by The National Trust. 

In the 16th and 17th Centuries the town was known for its Saffron production; hence the name.

Architecturally the town contains several important, and beautiful, early buildings.

The churchyard still contains a number family graves. I really must go there some time!

I don't know if the photographer was just lucky, but doesn't it look nice without cars parked everywhere.

Unknown talents

Back in about 1983 I was temporarily living in Shropshire, and had been co-opted into running the village Youth Club. They were a really nice bunch of 'youths', and along with a friend we decided to send a group of them on an 'outward bound' adventure holiday in Bavaria, Germany.

I had raised the money, selected the group of youths, and all that remained was to rent a Minibus and find a driver. I just happened to mention this to one of my cleaners, and she immediately said "My husband would do that".

The following day I went to see him to explain all that it would entail, how much money he'd have to play with, and where we'd arranged for the kids to go. As I approached his house, I saw a strange object on the top of his garage. It looked like some type of rocket. 

I asked him what it was and he said it was a racing motorbike sidecar.

It seemed that in his younger days he'd been a champion sidecar racer, winning cups and medals all over the world. Once indoors the extent of his winnings was obvious. There were trophies and photos (similar to the above) everywhere.

The strange thing was that no-one knew about this talent. He said "Oh it's all in the past, I don't mention it to anyone". Later I made sure that people DID know.

The youths had a fabulous time in Germany, and when they returned there was even some money left over which I returned to Shropshire County Council who had funded me.

Not long after, I completed my one year term of office, and I resigned. I'd done my bit; and so had my Minivan driver, who's name sadly I cannot remember. 

 

Ireland.

 

Forget Greenland and Canada, why doesn't Tr*mp point his colonial ambitions towards a United Ireland?

I'm sure they'd love to become the 51st US State. They've always had a very good relationship with the USA. They were often helped by the US to raise funds for the IRA, and various Presidents have openly welcomed Sinn Féin's (IRA) political representatives.

It is well known that the origin of Americans is 90% Irish, 5% Scottish, 3% African, and 2% Latino, so it would seem logical for Ireland to become a little satellite US colony on the edge of mainland Europe. The Irish have always been desperate to leave their homeland in exchange for the USA; just look at the popularity of St Patrick's Day; it's bigger over there than it is in Ireland itself!

It was always said that Westminster handed-out money in order of how much the different member countries of the United Kingdom hated us. Ireland received the most as they hated us the most, then Scotland a bit less, then Wales, with the least amount being saved for the downtrodden English who pay for it all. I'm sure if a referendum was held in Ireland, a majority would vote to join the USA.

So come along Tr*mp, forget about Greenland and Canada; aim your sights at a country who might actually welcome you! You could make them all spell incorrectly, install McDonalds canteens in all schools, and insist that no newborns are named Paddy or Paddette, but either 'Man' or 'Bro' instead. You could also build a few Country Clubs and Golf Courses, as well as a US Air Force camp and a Nuclear Submarine base. And in future you could change Ireland's patron saint from St Patrick to St Donald.

Once all the Irish have re-located to NY, and joined the police, maybe you could even build a huge super-secure Emerald Isle Prison, where you could send your facially-tattooed unwanted cat-eating illegal immigrants, who would be forced to cultivate all the Potatoes required by the US! There would be plenty of space.

Kathleen Battle - "Ombra Mai Fu. Handel

Singing has been a major part of my life ever since my choirboy days in my native Lingfield in Surrey.

I love to sing, and I love listening to good singers.

The American singer Kathleen Battle has a voice that I could listen to all day long. Just listen to that opening note on this recording of 'Ombra Mai Fu'; it is sensational.

One of my dislikes with female operatic singing is 'sliding up to a note'. I like to hear a singer hitting the perfect note at the first attempt, not making a rough guess then 'sliding' into it (does that make sense?). Ms Battle hits her notes perfectly every time. She has a remarkable range.

Enjoy.

Amazing Boris Johnson netball shot

I wonder if Starmer could do this?

Perhaps this is how we should chose our ruling political parties. Best out of ten, netball shootout!

Boris and Penny versus Starmer and Rayner. My 5p would be on B&P. 

Much more fun that putting an X on a piece of paper.

Countryfile.

 

If you wish to see the UK at its best, you should watch the BBC's TV programme, 'Countryfile'.

Peaceful music, prancing Lambs, and the ever-youthful John Craven, make the programme unmissable Sunday afternoon viewing.

The UK's wildlife is always on view, projects to reintroduce lost species are always shown, and life in the countryside always at the fore; as well as looking to the health of our coastal waters.

This is a programme for country folk, for people like me who try to pretend that nasty aggressive inner city life doesn't exist. We want to see Robins nesting, Foxes with their cubs, and black and white Dogs doing what they do best. We want to hear how our countryside is being protected, and how traditional country sports are still there to ensure a healthy population of wild-life.

If you wish to breathe some fresh mountain air, soak yourself in gentle English sunshine, or give your wellies their first outing for months, then watch Craven & Co as they show us the very best of our countryside.

The programme's presenters are all good, honest, country folk. They don't shout, go on strike, or carry insulting banners. They are 'Middle England' decent folk, who care for their environment. John Craven, the senior presenter, is just as he was X years ago on Blue Peter, and most men are in love with Ellie Harrison. There's a lot to be said for 'Countryfile'.

Another depressing week goes by.

The week started with big bruhaha on the government benches. It wasn't only the Tories who were complaining, Starmer's own backbenchers were also up in arms about cutting disability payments, affecting 3.6 Million claimants. Certain Labour MP's really didn't want to return to their constituencies having to face those who will be clobbered. They already have to deal with angry pensioners, farmers, and business people. A semi U-Turn looks likely. Who will they upset next? There's a mini-budget coming-up next week.

If you wondered what happened to amateur pugilist Mike Amesbury, he has now quit as an MP. No-one is surprised. The by-election should be interesting.

I do hope you don't need to catch trains on the East coast. Recently one of their train drivers was sacked, so the others, who are all paid a minimum of £72,223 p.a., will be going on strike for 56 days. The train drivers Union, Aslef, claims that the driver was 'unfairly dismissed'. Well, they would say that, wouldn't they!

STOP PRESS. The Africans occupying The Gaité Lyrique theatre in Paris, have now all been booted out by the CRS. I believe they were very 'firm' with their removal techniques. About bloody time.

It is now estimated that 286 excellent schools will close due to the Socialist 'Education Tax'. Have these people absolutely no idea about what they're doing? If you force the very best schools in the country to close, the inevitable result is a lowering of standards. One has to presume that that is their aim! 

On the High Street, 95 branches of the bank Santander will close (7 of which are here in Sussex), with the loss of 750 jobs. It doesn't get any better. Rachel from Accounts' plan is working well; everyone in the UK will soon be out of work. Poor old Britain!

In 'the olden days' it was expected that the taxes of the young would pay for the pensions of the old. These days the old continue to work after retirement age so that 1.3 Million people can sit around and do eff-all, claiming benefits. It's a funny old world! If Labour can sort this out; good for them!

And in the downtrodden People's Republic of Birmingham, the Rats are still running riot, and people are attacking the bin-men. Hey Ho.

The Death Sentence.

I am NOT in favour of bringing back the death sentence per se, but in certain cases I see no alternative.

In recent weeks we've heard of two UK murder cases that were so appalling that to allow the perpetrators to continue living seems almost like a crime in itself.

This (seemingly normal looking) person below is Nicholas Prosper. He murdered his Mother, his Sister, and his Brother, and, luckily, was arrested whilst on his way to commit what he called 'The Massacre of the Century' at a local school. He, apparently, wished to become the world's most famous murderer!

I have no qualms in saying that people who commit such dreadful crimes should sacrifice their own lives as a result. Instead, in liberal Britain, he will spend about 50 years in prison at the taxpayers expense.

Another young person, Kyle Clifford, recently raped and murdered his ex-Girlfriend, then went on to murder her Mother, and her Sister with a Crossbow. Totally senseless and brutal killings. He is yet another person who should automatically have surrendered his right to live, and be 'terminated'; instead of which he has also been sentenced to 'life in prison' at our expense.

On a more macabre subject, I remember well the hanging of the murderer Ruth Ellis. I was at Prep' School at the time and remember counting down the seconds, along with a crowd of other boys, to the exact time she was to hang. 9 am on the 13th July 1955. Something only nasty little schoolboys could do, but at the time it seemed warranted.

I am not suggesting brutal methods of execution. Like many dog owners I have sadly witnessed a dog being 'put to sleep'. Firstly they are given a jab that knocks them out, then another that stops the heart. The process is simple, quick, and as kind as one could imagine. There is no reason why a murderer should not be offered the same end; even though he might merit something more appropriate.

I doubt, also, if there would be many cases each year where the death sentence is warranted. But I do believe that the option should be there for judges to give in the very worst cases.

The two above are cases in point.

 

Panic Stations.

His Royal Highness President Macron is to issue every home in France with a 20 page guide on 'How to survive a Nuclear War', or something of that sort.

The pamphlet which will arrive before Summer will advise on keeping tinned food, batteries, bottled water, first aid pack, penknife, and even board-games, in the house.

It, apparently, also advises in case of Nuclear attack, to close all doors and windows. And says to join your local 'Civil Defence' group, if there is one.

Well, I think I'm already reasonably kitted-out. I have plenty of canned food in the house, I have wine, loads of candles, and a good supply of logs for the fire and cooking. I also have 'self defence' kit (ahem).

I shall probably need extra Silver Foil for hats etc. and anti-radiation cream for my face and hands.

So, if Putin can find me (and if I'm in France when it happens) I'm ready for him.

Put your dukes up Vlad... I'll be ready and waiting!

 

Pork Pie

Regular readers will know that I am a great advocate of the humble (and not so humble) British PORK PIE. I understand that 40 Million of these beauties are eaten in the UK each year.

A good pork pie is a delight, but sadly most are of mediocre or inferior quality. The one below (which looks, and is, perfect) is from Waitrose, and is one of the best. It is by a Co called Walkers, and is made specially for Waitrose. You can buy them at their Deli counter.

Pork pie making shouldn't be a mystery. A good 'hot water crust pastry' filled with slightly seasoned minced Pork, and later filled with a flavoursome jelly; that's all it is. I have even made them myself; although I did find it difficult filling the jelly liquid.

What better treat for a Summer picnic than a really good hand-made pork pie. That F & M hamper in the boot of the Royce should contain cold game meats, chilled sparkling wine, home-made pickles, and of course a Grand Pork Pie. A Dickensian Pie. One that would feed at least a dozen people, and still have some left-over for the servants. 

Ignore that boring Polo at Windsor, or those tedious horses racing around at Ascot, and enjoy a relaxed afternoon on your tartan blanket, with a large slice of pie and some piccalilli. I'm almost swooning just thinking about it.

p.s. The French make something called 'Paté en Croute' (below), which in many ways is similar, although it comes in a long square block. It can be OK, but it's never as good as a pukka Pork Pie.

Apache.

If I was to own a private helicopter (I admit, not very likely), it would have to be an APACHE. 

It would have to be black, have plenty of false rockets/bombs, and look very menacing. Just imagine landing in one of those on your back lawn. It would certainly keep the neighbours in their place!

The Apache is one of the most sophisticated military helicopters ever made. I believe that during action, the pilots simply have to look at a target (via the helmet) and push a button. Everything happens automatically. Bang.

I'm not sure how much room there is in the back for suitcases, Lady M, Billy, etc, but I'm sure we'd make-do. We might even be able to fix a roof-rack. I'd probably also have to employ my own mechanic for regular services, which might prove expensive.

I'm also not too sure how the manager of my local Sainsbury's would see my landing it in his car park for my Saturday shopping trips. I might have to give him a £5 backhander to look the other way.

If I see a nice looking second-hand Apache for sale, and they're willing to take The Compact Royce in part exchange, then I might well buy one. It would certainly solve our horrendous traffic problems.

I'd better take Helicopter Flying lessons just in case.

 

Scything lawn-length grass

When I first began house-hunting in France, I was taken to see a hilltop property that on paper sounded ideal.

It was a U shaped, stone-built, property with the house in the middle and two huge long barns at right angles forming a perfect courtyard. The courtyard itself was closed by a wall, tall gateposts, and big wrought iron gates on the fourth side.

The property was a working farm, and also contained about a hectare of vines, along with all the equipment for wine making. Its elevated situation was ideal, but it lacked trees.

When we arrived to view the property, an elderly man, probably the grandfather, was scything the grass in the courtyard. He took long slow sweeps with his scythe and did as good a job as anyone would with a modern mower. It was a spectacular sight.

I've tried scything myself, and I can assure you it's not easy even with a well-honed scythe. This woman (below) shows what skill it takes. She makes it look so easy too.

p.s. I didn't buy the property because, at the time, it was all too much for me. I knew nothing of either farming or wine-making; but it was a lovely property. These days I might have said 'yes'. 

The first garden mower was invented around 1830, so all properties were previously hand scythed (or Sheep cropped). The world's great houses such as Longleat, Hampton Court, or Versailles had their perfectly manicured lawns cut by hand. It must have been a full time job for several people.

Looking back; looking forward.

Where is that young man that I used to know? That eager Art Student with such great ideals and ambition.

Where is that lush wavy hair, that full set of teeth, and infectious smile? 

Little did he know, whilst sitting in that chair, that he would soon meet the girl of his dreams, end-up with three children, and spend 50 years living in the South of France. The world was certainly his Oyster, and he was to consume them by the dozen.

I remember him as a bonviveur. He loved food, wine, and untipped Gauloises cigarettes. He enjoyed the better things of life. He also lived a very waste-free existence. He had a large vegetable garden, plenty of fruit trees, and a medium sized Chestnut plantation. He ploughed his own land, where he sowed and harvested Maize and Wheat, and he had a large run-full of Chickens and Ducks. He lived 'The Good Life', even before 'the good life' had been invented. 

In time he lost some of his 'sparkle'. His children grew-up and moved away, he moved to a smaller home, and eventually divided his time between the South of France and the South of England.

Now he is getting old. His mobility has become limited. The bushy hair and endearing smile have gone, and he walks his black and white dog with a rolling gait, a silver topped cane, and the occasional grimace. He is no longer that young man that he still likes to think he is.

He contemplates. He reads. He fills-in countless crosswords. He still enjoys his food and drink, but no longer scours the earth for the finest cafés or restaurants. His dancing days are over too, and he is now more likely to watch 'Strictly' than be seen performing a jig at the local fêtes.

He no longer has a studio in which to work, or even the desire to do so, so his painting days are over, and his life's previous output must suffice.

Luckily his wit remains, and he enjoys good company. He will still search the woods for the very best mushrooms. and he still grows much of his own fruit. His 'second home' garden is a passion, and he tends it with pride. He will swim, he will BBQ, and he will enjoy the sunshine.

So, now he studies the faces of his grandsons, and sees something of himself there. He has watched them grow into fine young men. His hope for them is that they have as much fun in life as he once had, and that their wives give them sons and daughters that they can be proud of too.

The week in brief.

I've been desperately looking for some good news this past week, but I'm afraid; unsuccessfully. 

The throwing-out of old Ironing Boards continues apace (below). If I had a £pound for every discarded ironing board I've already seen this year, I could probably buy several pints at the Pub'.

They do love spending, don't they! Having devoted much time criticising the Tories over the quite meagre cost of Rishi's short Helicopter flights, we now discover that the Socialist Speaker of the House, Lindsay Hoyle, has racked-up £250,000 in expenses, by swanning around the world, with his wife Catherine, in business class. Plus; we hear that a load of travelling Socialist ministers together cost the taxpayer another £2 Million in just 9 days. Great work if you can get it!

Our good friend Tr*mp apparently doesn't feel 'so special anymore' after hearing that Zelensky was invited to meet King Charles. Being invited to meet The King is a huge honour for anyone (and that includes Tr*mp), and can be revoked at any minute; I hope in his case it is! What a bloody cheek that man has!

If you live in the UK, don't get ill. The Socialists spent years berating the previous government about benefit cuts, claiming that it would be the equivalent of 'genocide'. But guess what? Those same Socialists are now actually doing it, and are about to cut sickness benefits. They've already had a go at the elderly, farmers, and business people; now it's the turn of the sick. It is said that about a Million benefit claimants will suffer. Just as long as they don't cut the benefits of the most vulnerable, OK. It's the scroungers who need seeing-to.

If this collision, off the Yorkshire coast (above), wasn't intentional; I'll eat my beret! 

Everyone in Britain knows that the Socialists are the party of unemployment. Now 10,000 NHS jobs are to go, in order to streamline the service a bit. In fact I am totally in agreement with Starmer about this. The NHS has been 'management heavy' for far too long. Next job is to get nurses nursing, and not spending half their time in front of computer screens. At present nurses have to cope with a 'Mountain of Paperwork', when I was younger there was a clipboard at the end of the bed; and a Matron in charge!

And finally, if you're worried about 'Global warming', Boffins tell us that the next Ice Age is due in 11,000 years time. That should cool things down a bit!

Someone must have just remembered that 'Climate Change' is cyclical. Well done that Boffin!

Good luck?

My luck must be changing. This black cat sat on our doorstep yesterday as if it was trying to tell me something.

"Buy a EuroMillions lottery card" it said.

Perhaps I'll find a valuable diamond ring on the ground, or discover an unknown Matisse in a junk shop. Whatever happens; today is my day!

I'm crossing my fingers, stroking my lucky Rabbit's foot, and caressing my small bronze 'Joan the Wad'.

I shall also re-hang my lucky horseshoe on the outside shed, search for 4 leaf clovers, and avoid the number 13.

If all that doesn't work; I don't know what would.

 

Hooligan Grannies.

These two smug-looking OAP vandals, Diane Bligh 77 and Alyson Lee 66, are responsible for spraying paint over Charles Darwin's grave in Westminster Abbey. I hope they are pleased with themselves; they certainly look it. In court they both pleaded 'not guilty'. Well, they would wouldn't they!

Is there any point of lying to intelligent people in court when there is plenty of photographic evidence to prove that they are 100% guilty?

The day when their miserable lives come anywhere close to being as exemplary as that of Darwin's, it'll be a bloody miracle. Is it simply his genius they despise so much? Why is it that these lefties hate excellence so much?

Their case will be heard in May, and could last three days.

With the evidence below, I would have thought it would take no more than 5 minutes.

Of course, nothing will happen to them; not in modern Britain. Meanwhile some poor man returning from holiday in France found an African stowaway hiding amongst his bicycles. He phoned the police at once, and has now received a fine of £1,500 for importing an illegal immigrant. The African stowaway has probably been booked into a nice hotel, given a mobile phone, and plenty of spending money.

That's the UK for you! Totally bloody bonkers!

Vacuum for dog owners.

For such a tiny home, you'd hardly think we need TWO battery powered vacuum cleaners.

We've just bought a second one, for downstairs. The first one got tangled with dog hair around its spinning brush, and had to be de-tangled after every use; which was a lengthy process. It was a pain in the neck even though it was advertised as being specially for pet hair.

The new one (below) is a Vax Homepro 'pet design', and works wonderfully. The other one (a Vax Blade 4) we now use for upstairs only, where Billy fears to tread.

The new one is a bit of a brute, but it works really well; even the emptying system is well designed, and works perfectly.

My only complaint is that even though they are both Vax machines, and both new, they don't use the same size batteries and battery charger, which I find rather annoying.

So, if you have a permanently moulting dog in the house, I can thoroughly recommend the Vax Homepro 'pet design'. 

It does what it says on the box!

(I'm not on commission)

 

The Gaité Theatre again.

You may remember that I mentioned the 'sit-in' at Paris's Gaité Lyrique Theatre back in January.

Well I'm saddened to say that the occupation still continues; they have been there for THREE MONTHS.

It all happened after a well-meaning radical left-wing group of theatre staff invited a bunch of immigrants to a 'Welcome to Refugees' conference, after which they REFUSED TO LEAVE.

Since then about young 450 African men have taken-over the theatre and are causing mayhem.

One local business, the small bistro next door, is now threatened with bankruptcy as a result of the Africans spreading themselves around outside (as well as inside). Other local businesses have been threatened with violence if they criticise the Africans, and the once popular theatre and its surrounding area has become a disaster zone.

In France the CRS (riot police) are known for not holding back, so quite why they haven't gone in and arrested each and every one of them, I cannot imagine. They've had three months to think about it. No doubt the 'European Convention on Human Rights' prevents them from being mean.

What a bloody state of affairs. No wonder so many immigrants think Europe is a 'soft touch'. It really has become a joke!

 

News from the street

 

Nothing much happens here, but I suppose our biggest news of recent times is that we now have a BISHOP in residence in our little bijou street.

My senior school was positioned next door to a cathedral, and it played a very important part in our daily lives. As such I did get to meet the Bish' from time to time. He invited me to Tea on a couple of occasions, but I can't say that he was a particularly interesting person.

I have yet to meet my new Bishop neighbour, so I can't offer a character report; but from what I see of him on our WhatsApp page, he seems like a nice chap.

He originates from Australia, but his job in the UK was as Bishop to a large nearby W Sussex town.

So, how do I address him when we meet in the street? 'Your Grace', 'Your worship' maybe? Or just plain 'Good morning Bishop'!

I'm just waiting for him to name his house 'The Bishop's Palace', after which I will name ours 'Pandemonium'.

Do you have a Bishop in your road? No, I didn't think you did!