Take a Seat.

I am used to finding Ironing Boards, Office Chairs, and bits of Furniture, placed by our bins, but this was the first time I'd come across a bog!

Normally a plumber would take such things away having replaced them, so I must presume that this was left by an 'amateur plumber'. A DIY person. Although it's not a job I would recommend that one undertakes lightly.

On a related subject, we have now all received a small plastic container, with a couple of rolls of rubbish bags, for our new collection of Green Waste, that will become either Compost, or Pigswill. The new veg' bin is on the right in above photo. The small plastic container and bags are shown below.

I cannot imagine how much all this is costing.  The big bins (not yet in use) are now on every street corner, and every household has received a dinky little indoor bin. The amount of PLASTIC involved is horrendous.

I haven't looked, but what's the betting that both the large and small bins were 'Made in China'.

So, it's all go in Rubbish-Land. One used Bog 'going-begging', and the prospect of ridding ourselves of Cabbage leaves and Orange peel comes ever closer.

Life doesn't get much more exciting than this.

My little Companion

I have only ONE THING that has been with me since the day I was born; and that is ALPHONSE.

I can't claim that he has been 'cuddly', or even a particularly pleasant childhood sleeping companion, but he has always been there. He has been that 'thing' in the corner of the room, that became a very important part of my life. He may not be a beautiful Steiff Teddy Bear, but he's MINE.

These days he lives in my dressing room (the spare bedroom), and I say 'Good Morning' to him every day. I don't greet him like I do Billy, but I do recognise his presence.

Now that I'm 'old and grey, and full of sleep', I worry more about Alphonse's future than any other of my possessions. Who will look after hm, who will recall his history, who will remember to whom he once belonged?

One can make provisions for such eventualities, but one can never ensure that ones wishes will be adhered to.

Of course it really shouldn't matter what happens to inanimate objects when one is no longer here, but in Alphonse's case I cannot help but be concerned. To me he is a family member, and I care about him.

I hope that he will stay within the family for many years to come, and be treasured.

 

Our schools.

 

The Ministry of Dismal Education has just published some disturbing figures, and they don't make for easy reading.

It seems that 11,000 pupils in 'Reception Class' (4 to 5 year olds) have been suspended from school over the past year.

4,500 resulting from attacks on teachers, 2,500 because of attacks on fellow pupils, and the rest from disruption of class, making general threats, possessing a weapon, racism, etc. One has to feel sorry for all those children who behave themselves, and are being deprived of a stable education.

It doesn't paint a pretty picture does it!

Much of the blame for this bad, or even dangerous, behaviour must be placed at the altar of Mobile Phones. Children no longer learn ordinary 'social graces' at their mother's knee; they play violent games on their phones instead. Why they are even given phones at such a tender age is a mystery!

No figures are offered for expulsions from private schools. but no doubt they do exist. Confusing the words there, their, and they're, is a common reason for expulsion, as is calling a scone a 'scowne', or even holding a knife like a pencil. All worthy of instant expulsion. The government is (not-surprisingly) trying to do-away with such schools. (N.B. In case you were born without any sense of humour, this para was intended to be 'amusing').

Amongst other complaints from 'Reception Class' teachers, are of children coming to school 'STILL IN NAPPIES'. Unbelievable.

Illegal entry

I hear that the UK's Daily Express newspaper is holding a petition to enforce an Obama-style deportation programme, to rid the country of its illegal immigrants. It already has a huge amount of signatures. In fact it needs 10,000 signatures in order to force a Government Response, and 100,000 signatures to force a debate in parliament. I have a feeling that they might succeed.

As one might expect, it is difficult to put an exact figure on the amount of illegals there are in the UK, but it is certainly over 1 Million. 

We probably do need a serious Obama-style crack-down on such people; as POTUS, he managed to rid the USA of 5.3 Million illegals/criminals. I'm sure that if we applied the same techniques as Obama, we could probably get close to half a Million; it just needs government determination and will-power. The US, Canada, and Australia turn them away at the point of entry; in the UK we send Water Taxis to bring them in.

This invasion HAS to stop. It has become overwhelming.

Grasp the Nettle Someone!

 

In the eye of the beholder.

                       David Shrigley (artist). Pile of old Rope.

                                 Joe Bloggs (nearby road worker). Pile of old Rope.

One is 'valued' at £1 Million. The other probably has no value at all; a few quid maybe. 

Can you guess which is which?

French Foxes

Since we've been back in Brighton (after last Summer) we have had numerous covert visitors to our French house.

Mostly they are night visitors, but some have come in full daylight. 

We have had Foxes (sometimes two together), Badgers, and Roe Deer. But we have yet to see a Wild Boar, a Polecat, or a Pine Marten; all of which are common in the area.  

I am very pleased to see the Foxes; we don't normally see any. I shall put some food out for them in the Summer to see if they'll still come whilst we're in residence. I hope they do.

Our wildlife in France is not as plentiful as one might expect. The whole area around us is heavily wooded, and is prefect for all sorts of birds and animals; but hunting is also popular. They do try to keep animal numbers 'manageable', at the same time as taking a few for the table. We all want to preserve our wildlife, but not to let them become TOO MUCH of a pest. I would say that our hunters have got it about right.

The only thing I would suggest to them is that they ban the hunting of both Red Deer and Pheasants for at least five years, to allow the population to re-stock.

In the meantime, Bienvenu M Renard; hopefully we'll see you in Summer.

 

Bibs, Serviettes, Napkins.

Does everyone use serviettes at table? I'm not sure.

Having spent over half my life in France, I have naturally adopted many French ways, one of which is always to use a serviette.

This isn't just any old serviette, but a 'Normand' serviette. They are the National Serviettes of France. The official Government Serviette. The Serviette of The Elysée Palace. The Serviette of The French Foreign Legion. The Serviette of every single household in the whole of France and its Overseas Territories. They are France beside one's plate.

As long as I've been aware of them, they have always remained the same. They are a good size; 45 by 45 cms. They are 'substantial', being made of 100% cotton. They mostly come in red/white checks (occasionally green or blue). And they are of a loose-ish open weave. In fact they are the perfect bib for everyday use.

For some strange reason I only had ONE here in Brighton (dozens in France), so when it was in the wash I was obliged to use an inferior replacement, that I really didn't like!

So, being quick witted (it's taken 3 years) I decided to look on the Jungle Site, and buy some more.

There they were, I found them in packs of 3 (why 3 I have no idea), so I ordered 3 packs of 3. Yesterday some oaf of a delivery man threw the package onto my doorstep, and fled. A traditional delivery.

So, today I'm much happier than I was yesterday.

I note on the pack it says 'Fabriqué au Pakistan'...... Well, you can't have everything!!!

Nameless neighbours.

 

No doubt you remember an occasion when you were on holiday in some small hotel in Rimini or Florence, and you named your fellow guests by their appearance. 

There might have been 'The Green Lady' on account of her strange hair colour, or a 'Mr Four Whiskies' on account of his drinking habits, or even a 'Mrs Doolittle' on account of how she held her knife like a pencil. Well, it's not unlike how we name some of our neighbours.

We used to have two elderly ladies as neighbours. One was named Mrs Old (her real name), so her next door neighbour became Mrs Not So Old. Next door to them was Smoking Woman, for obvious reasons. Our immediate neighbour was known as His Excellency, having been Ethiopia's Ambassador in Sweden.

All of the above are now deceased.

Currently we have a 'Mercedes Man' on account of his soft-top German car. He arrives at his home at strange hours on random days, spends maybe a few hours or a few days, then disappears again. We know absolutely nothing about him; where he goes or what he does. We don't even know his name. We quite like it that way. 

When on holiday, it is rather infra dig to ask people their names, so naming them according to some quirk is all part of the fun. I can remember a Hoots-mon (is that how it's spelt?), a Funny Leg, a Mr Doom, and a small girl that we named Pug.

Of course, not all this is one sided, one has to expect others to give you some awful name as well. I do know that one of my neighbours in France has a pet name for me, but I've never got her to tell me what it is. Otherwise I'm possibly known as Old Fart, or That Bloke with the Black and White Dog, or I pity his Wife; etc. 

Life's rich tapestry.

Some Animals

Below is a photo of two of my grandsons (when they were much smaller) with our Labrador Monty. 

Monty was our first dog when we returned to dog-keeping back in 2011. We adopted him as a Puppy from Ms Tadpole's rescue place; he soon grew.

Yesterday when I was returning from my morning walk with Billy, I came across a most extraordinary sight. Sadly I didn't have my camera with me.

Sitting on the other side of a wire fence, just a couple of feet away, was a Fox Cub, and sitting by his/her side was a Tabby Cat. They were calmly sitting together, just a few inches apart, like old friends. Billy just looked at them, and eventually we moved on. My resolution for '26 is to have my phone with me at all times!!!

Two years ago when Billy brought home a baby Deer, again I didn't have my phone at hand. I've missed some wonderful pictures in recent times.

We probably should have named Monty 'Topsy'.

 

Cucumber

A highly-respected and admired gourmet once said, that a Cucumber should be carefully prepared by being wiped with a clean cloth, delicately peeled so as not to remove too much of the green exterior skin, cut into almost transparent thin slices, sparingly seasoned with Maldon Salt and carefully milled Pepper from Tellicherry, served on a fine porcelain plain white plate, then confined to the dustbin!

That 'wise gourmet' was right.

The above remnants of a Cucumber was the second I've bought in the past decade, and I soon realised why I'd not bought more. They really are the most unpleasant of vegetables. The taste in unpleasant, the texture worse, and it only helps to spoil anything that it accompanies (Cucumber is NEVER eaten alone, for obvious reasons).

Their only saving grace is when they are harvested at a very early stage (8 to 10 cms long). As such they can be preserved in Vinegar, and offered to unwanted guests alongside a decent English Cheese, before being returned to their jar for another occasion. 

The very rarely used expression 'As calm (or cool) as a Cucumber' is as equally pointless as the object itself, and a more apt expression might be 'As inedible as a Cucumber' (© Cro Magnon 2026).

Cucumber verdict; 0/10

 

And it continues

How much more of this do we have to endure before someone, somewhere, does something about it?

On Tuesday, a 13 year old boy entered a school in North West London (Brent), and shouted "ALLAHU AKBAR" before pulling-out a knife and stabbing two similarly-aged pupils.

He then left the school, and after having visited a nearby Mosque, he was arrested. The police will not name him for the usual idiotic reasons. Nor are we allowed to have a photo.

The two victims were said to be in a 'life-threatening condition' in hospital. The perpetrator is probably now in a 'Youth Holding Facility', and enjoying all the comforts it offers.

Most British people feel the same way about such crimes, but are not allowed to express their thoughts; nor am I.

What I will say, however, is that it has got out of hand. We all know what is going on, but no-one is prepared to look-for, or find, a solution. We just sit here and sigh..... 'Oh no, not again!'.

This latest religious-inspired attacking of 'infidels' came as we were still reeling from the court case of Anthony Esan, following his attack on a serving British Army Officer, Lt Col Mark Teeton, in Chatham. The vile attacker, Esan, will be sentenced any day. It is my own choice NOT to show HIS photo.

Such attacks are illogical, irrational, random, and unannounced. We know they are being plotted behind our backs at this very moment, and people have become wary of simply walking around. Life shouldn't be like that in our own country!

New-Speak

Headline writers ain't what they used to be!

I will attempt to translate this New-Speak newspaper headline that baffled me recently.

It seems that a happy American actor, Leonardo DiCaprio, has 'busted' something or other whilst moving house (maybe?), which involved some ice cubes. He was probably looking for something to cool his drinks. 

At the same time, someone called B F F Tobey Maguire had broken one of Leonardo's really super (possibly antique) bowls, and his girlfriend rips into the Italians, saying that their ice was far too slippery. They are all at The Winter Olympics.

What the inexperienced headline-writer should have written was 'Actor slips on ice at Winter Olympics, and breaks precious bowl'. Much better, and to the point!

 

Partridge.

I'm quite partial to 'Game'. Pheasant, Grouse, Quail, and Partridge will all be on the menu when available.

Kimbo went to his favourite Farmer's Market last weekend, and bought me this (below). As you might imagine, I was delighted.

It did warn that it 'May Contain Shot', but I didn't find any.

I must say that I was a little surprised that Partridges are in large enough numbers on The Downs in order to make a business out of its meat. I used to go Rabbit shooting on a friend's farm very nearby, but I never saw a Partridge.

I fried them very simply in butter, with a small amount of garlic and Parsley, and served them on a bed of Cavolo Nero. Simple and delicious.

Verdict: 10/10

Up-Coming By-Election.

 

There's an up-coming by-election in somewhere called 'Gorton and Denton' (up North?).

It'll be an interesting test for many of the parties involved. The seat has become vacant after the sacking of nasty Labour MP Andrew Gwynne (above). He had made far too many disgusting anti-semitic, and misogynistic comments on various social media sites, and was given the heave-ho by Starmer.

The main runner for the seat WAS to be the Mayor of Greater Manchester, Andy Burnham. However, Sir Slippery-Starmer wasn't keen. Burnham was definitely after the keys to No 10, so Starmer stopped him from standing, and gave him a right uppercut, and a blow to the solar plexus... POW... ZAP... WHAAM!

Greek-born Angeliki Stodge will now be representing Labour in Gorton instead, but after the disgraceful banning of the popular Burnham, I think they may have shot themselves in the foot, and they could easily lose the seat to Reform UK. We shall see on the 26th Feb. Corbyn's amusingly named party, 'Your Party', has pulled-out to give Labour a better chance. However, I fear that all their 'sleaze' will scupper their chances.

The Green Party have an interesting candidate. Her name is Hannah Spencer, she's a plumber, and has some particularly interesting vote-winning policies. She wants (amongst other things) to legalise prostitution (it already is legal), and to abolish The Police. A few years ago The Green Party wanted to ban children from keeping pet Rabbits, and to reduce the length of artists copyright. The Green Party leader, Zack Polanski, also said last weekend that the party wants to legalise Crack Cocaine and Heroin. 

Zack has also been gloating over some 'Hamas activists' who recently smashed up a defence Co's research laboratory. One of the group fractured the spine of a policewoman with a sledgehammer. Zack was happy to see them found innocent after their recent trial (this was such an obvious mistake by the court that the case will probably be re-tried). The Greens represent just a few do-lally, muesli-knitting, herbal-remedy, vegetablists. Totally BONKERS.

If Labour DO lose their seat to Reform UK, it'll probably be curtains for Sir Kreepy-Keir (if he hasn't already gone).

Burnham has been quite successful in his running of Greater Manchester, and probably would have done a much better job than KS with UK Plc. However, now that Burnham won't be eligible to challenge Starmer for the leadership, we hear that the fragrant Angela Rayner is once again ready to kick him out. She allegedly has a £1Million war chest ready for her leadership campaign. 

The only good thing one can say about the fragrant Ms Rayner, is that she would make Labour totally unelectable; just like her chum Jeremy Corbyn before her.

A Question of Colour

Yet again, when opening a box of eggs at the supermarket, I was slightly surprised to see that they were all white.

I'm no enemy of white eggs, I'm perfectly aware that they are exactly the same on the inside as brown ones. But even so, it always comes as something of a surprise when I open that box to check that none is cracked; and find that they are all white.

Along with my teetotal diet, I'm also trying to stay away from fried breakfasts for a while. So along with my morning diet of Oats, I'm also treating myself to the occasional, once a week, BOILED egg (or two).

Simple boiled eggs tend to be forgotten about, but they make a very pleasant breakfast. They are not only for small children.

When I bought my dozen pack of 'white' eggs, I was talking to the supermarket check-out lady about them when the lady who was behind me in the queue said she would never buy them. I couldn't quite work-out what her objection was to the colour, but she was adamant.

In general, all White Hens lay white eggs, and Brown Hens lay brown eggs. Yes, it's as simple as that. No difference to the interior at all.

Anyway, back to my boiled eggs. I'm pleased to say that the ones above were PERFECTLY cooked. Not always the case when I boil eggs!

A tiny sprinkle of Celery Salt, and Bob's your Uncle. Delicious. 10/10

 

Ask a silly question!

Q (me). Have you got any of those plastic curtain hook thingies I could have?

A (Kimbo). Yes!

Q (me). Could you bring me a few?

A (Kimbo). See the above.

 

The Farmer's Dog

This is the second of Clarkson's books that I've read. He writes very well, with humour and plenty of witty and intelligent observation.

I do like the actual 'physical' book too. It is divided into five or six page easy-read chapters, that are taken from his weekly articles in The Sunday Times. The print size is also good, and the simple illustrations are to the point. It is a perfectly readable book, that can be picked-up and put-down at will. Perfect for an on/off reader like myself; or for the beach..

He writes mostly about agriculture; one of his recent ventures being his own farm called 'Diddly Squat'. But this particular book is more about his new Pub'; 'The Farmer's Dog'. If you wish to know why so many Pub's are closing, Clarkson gives us clear and understandable answers. He explains why both beer-drinking and farming, under the Socialists, are in peril. but I've already explained about all that previously! He, himself, has managed to choose two of the most endangered occupations. 

This book was a Christmas present, but I've only just begun reading it.

Some years ago Clarkson was being hailed as the best Prime Minister we never had. With common sense by the bucket load in this book, I'd have to agree. He also knows a bit about cars. He was the man who described my car as a 'Pensioner's Shopping Car'; he was right about that too.

The Prince of Darkness.

Doncha love 'im!

He's no stranger to intrigue. Nor is he a stranger to scandal.

The ex-Lord Mandy came to the notice of the British public when he was named 'The Prince of Darkness', as Neil Kinnock's communication guru. His reputation was cast in iron!

Later, as the British public learnt more of the true side of Mandy's character, he became the darling of three destructive Labour Prime Ministers, Blair, Brown, and now Starmer. 

He was sacked from two of his Cabinet positions, before best-buddy Starmer shocked the world by appointing him as Ambassador to the USA. This came to a sudden end after revelations appeared about his close relationship with convicted paedophile Jeffrey Epstein. His passing of 'classified financial information' to Epstein was no less than Espionage, from which Epstein was (allegedly) able to make huge amounts of money.

When a Financial Times journalist asked Mandy about his relationship with Epstein, he was told to 'Fu*k off'. That tells us a lot.

More and more revelations appeared after documents were recently made public in the USA, and his ridiculous Peerage, and elevation to the House of Lords, was eventually revoked. He may well eventually be tried for treason; we shall have to wait and see.

Some politicians are more badly behaved than others, but the one's who's bad behaviour was common knowledge SHOULD NOT be rewarded with high positions, high salaries, and secretive protection from No 10.

Yes, this one-time member of The Young Communist League has now had his well-deserved comeuppance, and is in disgrace. I believe that even his Brazilian husband has left him; although I'm not certain.

What I do know, and have written about very often, is that this man should never have been promoted to all his lofty positions. It shows an extreme failure in the vetting process for top jobs; the blind admiration shown to him by our political leaders was extraordinary.

So, good riddance to Mandy. I'm sure (if he isn't imprisoned) that he'll live-out the rest of his life in considerable luxury. Let's just hope that his ilk NEVER find their way into government ever again.

Politics, as we all know, is a question of JUDGEMENT; which, in this case, was sorely lacking!

 

1950's Exercise Programme.

 

Back in the 50's (when I were a lad) we didn't have Gyms everywhere, static exercise bikes, or sets of dumbbells in the garage.

For overall body exercise we had Hula Hoops.

To imitate the modern trend for jogging/fell running/marathons etc, we shook all our insides about with Pogo Sticks.

And as for Cardio-Vascular exercise we had Slinkies, which involved running up and down the stairs at high speed every few seconds.

Any other exercise was had by being chased by the farmer's dog from across the fields.

Amazingly, we managed to stay as fit as those who, these days, spend all day in the Gym.

We didn't have Thai Chi, Yoga, Pilates, CrossFit, Elliptical training, Treadmills, or Aqua-Jogging; and we certainly didn't have those 21st C essentials, Personal Trainers.

How we survived I have no idea!

My return to Aldi

4 Bottles of 'extremely quaffable' South Australian Shiraz wine (not for me, sadly).

Bananas. Oranges. 

Aubergine. Mushrooms. Cavolo Nero. Red Onions.

Tomato Puree.

Sushi.

Total cost: £28.44

I call that an absolute BARGAIN. I shall go again.

p.s. There were lots of very flash cars in the Car Park; including a Bentley Continental. Aldi is becoming trendy!

 

What a dull week it was.

This last week we saw Lord Mandy asking a young lady if she'd found his missing trousers. He's seen here showing her what they looked like on his iPad. If it wasn't bad enough for him to be sacked as the UK's Ambassador to the USA, he has now been booted out of The Labour Party as well. We also hear that his Peerage might be revoked. Poor old Mandy; not fair is it.

We also saw Randy-Andy Windsor practicing his CPR (Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation) on a 'live model'. I believe he is becoming quite skilled, and may even be awarded his Cub Scouts 'Lie back and think of England' badge.

Good news came from Dubai last week where the former 'Glamour Model', Katie Price, married some bloke she'd never met. It seems that he's told her that he's a billionaire; others aren't so sure. KP is the one on the left (below), with her daughter Princess on the right. We send her all our best wishes for a long and happy married life (her fourth I think; or is it her fifth)!

Elsewhere in the world, we hear that The Ayatollah's son, Mojtaba Khamemei, (left, below) has managed to amass a staggeringly large global property portfolio. Over £100 Million's worth in one London street alone. His father, The Ayatollah (right below), must be very proud of how enterprising his son has been. He must have worked very diligently to have earned all that money. The Cleric, Mojtaba, teaches in a Muslim Seminary in Qom. His father, the Ayatollah (trans: Reflection of God), was unavailable for comment; the Iranian senior Cleric has been very busy killing tens of thousands of his fellow countrymen.

So, very little to report. No scandals. No-one caught with their trousers down (other than Mandy), and no-one found trying to oust Sir Keir Sino-Starmer from his PM job (other than most of his cabinet).

Have a good week!

News for the Elderly

The elderly have always been the butt of Jokes, and ridicule; and often rightly so. Most of us are doddery old fools (not me, of course).

Here is Griff Rhys-Jones demonstrating perfectly how the over 70's are viewed by the under 50's.

98.5 kgs

 

Right; my weight-loss programme starts today.

I have weighed myself this morning (98.5 kgs. 15.6 stones) and, as from today, will drink no alcohol, and eat more healthily, until I feel lighter and healthier. If I have the will-power, I reckon a couple of months will do the job.

It may sound as if I am wildly obese, but as a 6 ft 1 inch ex-Rugby player, I appear to most people as simply normal; not at all 'fat'. I keep telling myself that I have those infamous 'heavy bones'.

I'm starting on the 1st of a new month simply because that's how my brain works. I just hope it continues to work the way I want it to!

I shall, of course, report back; as long as I haven't totally evaporated.