Ginge and the Whinge.

 

Yesterday's news that The Dreadful Duo are to return to the UK took us all by surprise. Where they will park their caravan is anyone's guess. The Cotswold's maybe?

Their main problem is knowing that all the nasty things that they've both written and said, can never be erased or retracted. Their unpopularity can only increase by being back.

I would like to ask King Charles to remove the word 'SUSSEX' from their titles. I really cannot stand having my own county associated with them in any way whatsoever.

I would also suggest to King Charles that he demands a public apology from them both, before they are allowed back.

It is difficult to imagine what went on inside the Whinger's mind before she went off on her tantrum. One minute everyone loved her, the next she was saying how she hated everyone. All very strange. If she now thinks she can return with some massive charm offensive; she's living in a bloody dream world.

The Ginge has huge debts following his silly court cases. I believe he will hear TODAY how much he'll have to pay. He has no 'state provided security', and he has a wife who's made him look like a bloody fool. I think it would have been better for him to stay where he was; in The Jam Factory.

Pruning.

I think we have 6 Fig trees; two of which are in positions where they are not allowed to bear fruit.

Fig trees usually have huge amounts of fruit which, if not picked, drop to the ground making a mess. If they're away from the house in the garden it doesn't matter, but we have two trees where fruit dropping onto the ground would be very annoying. I'm talking of around the pool.

So, each year they are pruned back to nothing, assuring that next year's growth will not present a fruit problem.

Fig trees issue a nasty white sap when cut, which is irritable to human skin. So one has to take care.

Here I am, half way through pruning the tree by the pool entrance. It's work I do early in the morning, and I take my time. In fact I will take about 3 days; that's how things are aged 80! My relationship with ladders has recently taken a downward spiral.

And this (below) is what it looks like when it's all finished. 

Next year it'll be back to it's lovely 'lollipop' shape again, but will NOT bear fruit, and I'll have to prune it back all over again.

Now all that remains is to prune the Wisteria, a Grape vine, and one Hibiscus. Then all will be Winter-Ready.

 

Refugees Welcome

When reality hits the Woke-dungaree-wearing-Lovies, who welcome every Middle Eastern economic migrant, or criminal, into the country, all of a sudden their attitudes change!

We've all seen the interviews at the Lovie welcoming rallies. 

"Can I put your name down to give shelter to a refugee Sir/Madam?". 

"Errrm, well I would, but unfortunately we don't have a spare room!" (lying bast*ds).

Of course they don't have any room. Who knows who these people are. They dump all their papers in the sea, so no-one can check on them, and some (30 year olds) even pretend to be children.

So what do these people really want when their rubber boats arrive in the UK? 

Well, of course, they all want luxury accommodation; a nice hotel, or even a £300,000 new build. They want 3 free meals a day, and spending money. They want new clothes, and a mobile phone. And they want all the facilities that the rest of us work, and pay through the nose for. In fact they want freebies to the extent of about £50-60,000 each per annum. All this is what they're promised by the traffickers.

And guess what? YES; WE GIVE IT TO THEM !!!

N.B. Breaking news tells us that a SOMALI migrant, staying at the luxury Stanwell 'Migrant' Hotel near Heathrow, has been arrested for stabbing a fellow migrant. 

They're even trying to kill each other now! Overcrowding maybe?

 

Pool life.

 

Anyone who has a pool, and looks after the maintenance themselves, knows that it's not all Bathing Beauties, Bikinis, and inflatable Flamingoes. There's a lot of work, and a lot that can go wrong.

Looking after your pool is an essential daily task. First thing in the morning everything has to be cleaned. All leaves on the 'beach' must be swept-away, any creatures, or illegal immigrants must be taken out of the pool itself, and the skimmers emptied of all the overnight amassed detritus. Chemicals have to be added if necessary.

The level of the water is very important. Too little and the skimmers will begin to suck in air, and the whole pumping system will be circulating air rather than water. Even in times when we have a 'Hose-pipe ban', we have to ensure that the level is correct. If they want to take me to court.... let them!

Our pool runs on Chlorine (some run on Salt), and the level of Chlorine needs to be checked regularly. I'm afraid I don't bother with this. I put in the 'Multifunction Tabs' when needed, and cross my fingers. So far this year the water has remained perfectly clear.

Then there is all the mechanical side of things (above); the things that are hidden away in the Pump House. The pump itself has a rudimentary filter that needs to be emptied from time to time, and the whole system has a large round filter that has to be washed-out (backwashed) regularly. Ours contains ground Glass rather than Sand. We had a slight problem with the pump this year, and the dangling white tubular bit is new. All now works well.

As far as cleaning the inside of the pool is concerned, we now have a fabulous 'robot'. He sees to it that all is perfect, and I clean his internal filter when he's finished.

If we get everything right, spending 15-30 minutes a day making sure that all is as it should be, then the pool will function correctly, and people will think that it all happens by itself (by magic). If the water turns GREEN, which ours has in the past, it can take a week or more to get it back; and of course I would be to blame.

It's not 'Rocket Science' but one has to be aware of how everything functions. After that it's simply a matter of aesthetics, weather, and FUN.

An un-nerving (for me) story!

 

I was just reading that the 60's Gangland Boss, Eddie Richardson, who masterminded 'The Torture Gang', has recently died. Richardson's gang and The Kray twins were underworld rivals. He always referred to Ronnie and Reggie Kray as a bunch of amateurs. You can just imagine what sort of person Richardson was.

His death reminded me of a personal experience.

Back in 1966 I was living and working in London. I was in the Antiques business, and (at the time) I was living in Lillie Road, Fulham. I had a small apartment on the ground floor of a pleasant terraced house, my rooms were just inside the entrance door, on the right.

One night, whilst fast-asleep, the door to the apartment was thrown open, and I was torn from my slumber by two burley Policemen, and a viciously barking dog. I was petrified!

They dragged me over to beneath a lightbulb, and compared my face to that of a photo that another Policeman was holding.

"No, that's not 'im" said the man, and they allowed me to sit down.

"Not who?" I asked.

"We'd been given information that Frank Mitchell (above) had been seen entering this property" he explained. 

The name of Frank 'the mad axeman' Mitchell was all over the news at that time. He was an extremely dangerous criminal, and had recently been 'sprung' from Dartmoor Prison by the Kray twins. They had found a flat for him, but he'd disappeared. The whole of The Metropolitan Police Force were out looking for him, and thanks to some idiot, I had inadvertently become a part of their search.

OK, I understood that they needed to do their job, but I looked nothing like Mitchell. They 'almost' apologised, gathered together all the other Police throughout the house, and departed to harass someone else.

I believe that the Krays eventually found Mitchell themselves and had him killed. It was rumoured at the time that his body was dumped in the Channel.

I, on the other hand, somehow managed to survive!

Strange Summer.

It's been a strange summer on many fronts, mostly due to the very high temperatures, and the lack of rain.

This has had a hugely detrimental effect on crops and wildlife. Our Apples are all small, our Peaches dried-up, the pomegranates are pathetic, and our grapes have, inadvertently, become raisins.  By contrast, our Fig crop has been huge; but they never fail.

At this time of year there is usually a constant drone from Crickets in the grass, and from Cicadas in the trees. This year there is silence. Nor do we have many Wasps, and absolutely no Hornets, about which we are not complaining.

I have not seen a single large green Lizard, and only ONE Praying Mantis (above).

In the fields, the Sunflower heads are very small, and I imagine that the crops will be miserable. 

Elsewhere the Chestnuts are beginning to swell inside their husks, and, as with the Walnuts, I expect the crops will be OK; they are both deep-rooted and can probably find enough moisture.

There have been no mushrooms, so my Cèpes will, this Winter, come from expensive tins (of which I've bought several)!

The big storm of July 17th was vicious and destructive, but the short burst of torrential rain soon evaporated, and did no good. What we really need are a few days of constant gentle rain.

We've just had a small storm last night. Lots of bangs, flashes, and strong wind; but hardly any rain.

Will this now become our regular annual weather pattern? That remains to be seen.

 

Nostalgia ain't what it used to be.

OK, this picture might be a rose-tinted vision of an England in earlier times, but it's very much how I remember my native Surrey village of Lingfield, as a child.

I was born in 1946, and lived for the first 14 years of my life in my small Surrey village, where almost everyone knew who I was; and greeted me with a cheery 'hello'. I always felt very much a part of village life. We all knew the village 'Bobby', the District Nurse, the Vicar, the Butcher, the Baker, and everyone else of importance.

I had my little red bike, and would cycle wherever I wanted. I would go fishing, watch the village Cricket team, or visit friends. My world was only limited by how far I could cycle. Freedom was total.

There was a village pond, and a village memorial to those who'd died in the two German wars. There was a lovely old church, where I sang in the choir. And there was a village Silver Band who rejected my appalling lack of skill on the Cornet.

In Autumn there was a huge Horticultural Show in the village hall, for adults and children alike, and on November 5th we held one of the biggest local Bonfire Night parades in the area. There was also a very active WI.

It was how an English village should be. Very little crime, other than one wayward Irish family who lived on a council estate, and couldn't help themselves. And lots of friendliness from almost everyone else. The only 'foreigners' I remember were a Canadian family; the Beardmores. The father had been sent to work in England, and the son was at Prep' School with me. 

My only complaint about the present state of the village is it's proximity to Gatwick. These days (not when WE lived there) there is constant airplane noise, which has spoilt much of its appeal. The last time I returned there, I could hardly believe how much noise there was.

Our village here in France used to have the same feel about it, but even that has now changed. The camaraderie that came with peasant farming has gone, and those same people now sit at home and wait for their EU cheque to arrive. The 'newcomers' are mostly NOT country folk, and often have no idea how to behave.

 

Where are they now?

 

Recently we were 11; now we are 2. The family are now all back at their various homes (or very nearly).

The Cherub (above), his big brother Boo Boo, and their dad Wills are back in Thailand after a week doing dangerous things in the Swiss Alps, and safer things in Zurich.

Tenpin, and son Finn, are back in Brisbane after a week or so in Rome, Naples, and on The Amalfi Coast. Her No1 son, GHG, was at home in Oz, working.

Kimbo and Suzie have been back in Brighton for a while (he's had more promotion). Not quite sure where Suave Harve is (possibly back in Oxford), and I think Ollie is in London, before starting Uni at Nottingham in September.

That just leaves US. We're still in France, relaxing, and suddenly feeling very 'alone'.

It's the little things.....

Ever since I built our pool's 'Pump House', I knew there was something about it that wasn't quite right.

I had copied the local style as honestly as I could, used hand-made tiles for the roof, and even commissioned a couple of traditional pinnacles to finish it off. But the door always looked wrong. 

I knew where the problem lay, and this year (at last) I decided to do something about it. You may find this ridiculous!

Traditionally, in this area, outbuildings of all sorts have a rustic lime-wash border around all the openings; doors, windows, etc. Originally I think it was designed to deter insects, but I very much doubt if it did.

As the Pump House was designed to look like an old miniature Pigeon Tower, the lime 'paint' needed to look as if it had been there for decades; it needed to looked 'washed away'. I had to build up slowly, and over several days. Had it looked perfectly new it would have been worse than before.

So now, as we enjoy our wine-o-clock drinkies, overlooking the pool, I see how it always should have looked, with its ageing white stripe around the door; and I am content.

It's amazing how something as trivial as a white stripe can actually become so important. NOW, it looks RIGHT! We built the pool in 2004; it's been a long time coming.

 

Encornet Géant

I've always been a bit wary of buying fresh Octopus or Giant Squid. I'm not confident about cooking it, and always fear that I might end-up with something resembling a Wellington Boot.

So, having recently discovered this, chilled, ready-cooked, pack of 'Giant Squid' tentacles, and seen that it only needs a few minutes heating time, I knew it had my name written all over it. Whether such things are available where you live, I have no idea.

The pack suggested various heating methods. Frying pan with Olive Oil for 2 mins. Air Fryer for 5 mins (we don't have one). Microwave for 2 mins (No, no, no). Or simply to eat it as it is; it's already cooked.

I would liked to have grilled it over the BBQ, but lighting it just for this seemed silly. So I followed the advice on the pack and fried it for a couple of minutes, just to give it a bit of 'colour'.

I have to say that it was very good, but perhaps a tad more 'chewy' than I would have liked. It didn't have the charred flavour I would have liked too, but if there were more of us I'd buy several packs and light the BBQ.

It was served with a tiny squeeze of Lemon juice, and very lightly salted.

Verdict: 8/10. I WILL buy it again, but the next time I will certainly BBQ it.

 

Weather warning

I'm not going to say that I don't like hot, sunny, weather; because that would be untrue.

But what I really don't enjoy are the relentless, day after day temperatures in the top 30's C, that force us to stay indoors for most of the day. 

I always get-up early anyway (5 am), and my 'Office Work' is usually finished by 7 am-ish. The rest of the early morning is then given to working outside before the worst of the 'Canicule' arrives. There is always sweeping, pool cleaning, and general tidying to be done. At lunchtime we always eat outdoors, but in the shade. Most of the afternoon is then spent on Siesta, Crosswords, or a good Book; all within the thick walls of our old stone cottage.

We wear hats, and shades, we drink litres of liquids, and we throw ourselves into the pool regularly.

People moan about the heat, and rightly so (my own favourite temperature is 25 C). But as with so many annoying things in life, it's all a question of management. Plan your day, pinpoint the hottest hours, and work around it.

There is little point in the government warning us about 'Summer Temperatures' (above), we all know they're coming, and we should all make our own arrangements. We don't need Little Miss Nanny France to tell us.

Enjoy the temperatures that suit you; and avoid the one's that don't. Simple.

p.s. Starting from today, it's going to be SUPER HOT again for some while!!!

 

Mr Arday

So much has been written about this scoundrel, that there's almost nothing more to say.

I have had very few 'jobs' in my life where a CV was required. They were for positions at The London Stock Exchange, and two teaching jobs; both in prestigious private schools. I told the truth (which in my case was quite basic), and I was accepted on merit. I didn't feel the need to invent sporting prowess, charitable exploits, or even early-age mental disabilities.

The most shocking aspect of Mr Arday's numerous deceptions are not his own fantasies, but the inability of the Cambridge University's Appointments Board to see past such an obvious display of LIES. Some of his claimed exploits even happened before he was born!

We all know that Cambridge has recently become a hotbed of woke equality, and dumbing-down. But to put transparently woke diversity ethics before the good name of Cambridge University, is tantamount to TREASON.

Mr Arday will now disappear (unless he writes a book, saying how it was all a big social experiment, in the style of Frank Abagnale jr), but the Dungaree-wearing lovies who interviewed and employed him should be investigated and SACKED.

The University's 'Diversity Poster Boy' has been seen for what he is. An absolute FRAUD.

Experimental Chutney

Thanks to 'Le Pré', I have added some Fig Chutney to my list of this year's conserves.

It is very similar to the Fig and Lemon Jam, but with a chopped red Onion, Raisins, red wine Vinegar, dark brown Sugar, and some spices etc.

Frankly it's a much better conserve to make, as it will be far more popular. Pickles and Chutneys in our house are consumed very quickly. 

 

Experimental Jam

Every year we have so many Figs that simply go to waste; I have three VERY BIG trees. We do, of course, eat a lot of them, but the rest either fall to the ground, or become Wasp and Hornet food.

So, I decided to make some Fig and Lemon Jam.

Last year I made Fig Jam, but it was too sweet, so this time I added the juice of a whole Lemon, plus some very thin shavings from half of another. I made just enough to fill two jars, plus a little bit left-over for breakfast.

Firstly I must pat my own back, because it set perfectly. And secondly it does taste very good. I can already imagine myself having it with toast on winter's mornings in Brighton.

Verdict: 8/10. The thin shavings of Lemon are not as soft as I'd like. Otherwise OK.

Our new PM.

 

As you might already know, we have a new Prime Minister in the UK. Here he is (above) with some people who are encouraging him to move to the USA (at least, I presume that's what their placards are saying).

He was only recently elected as an MP, and immediately assumed that he had some divine right to lead his party, and the country (politically). The old PM (Starmer) immediately resigned, and Handy Andy took over. Simple as that.

Over the past two weeks, since his heavenly inauguration, he's been wandering about, shaking hands and kissing babies, so now he's exhausted, and he's gone off on holiday. Well, you would, wouldn't you!

He's made a few instant policy decisions, including letting perverts and dangerous criminals out of prison early, so they've got more space for TV Licence dodgers and speeding motorists. He's also having a go at those same motorists, by making older cars more expensive to run, and older drivers despair. I'm even considering my own future on the road, although how I'd cope I really don't know.

His first couple of weeks in power are not giving us much confidence; unless you're a criminal, an illegal immigrant, or on the dole. If you lead a normal working life, with a home, a mortgage, and a car, then he's coming for your money! And if you're an OAP, he'll definitely make sure you are poorer.

The one good thing that he's promised, is to look into the whole 'Care Homes', Carers, Caring, business. The whole kaboodle is run by a bunch of money-grubbing shysters, who have all become multi-millionaires, whilst their elderly clients become penniless. The whole system really needs to be given a good shake-up. We now wait to see if Andy's concern is just 'words'. The present system is a criminal bloody DISGRACE. If he can sort-out the worst of these scoundrels; he'll have my support.

I'm looking forward to the next round of PMQ's in September, to see how the new boy fares against Kemi. She's a tough cookie, and takes no prisoners. I just hope (unlike the previous numpty) that he actually ANSWERS her questions.

Radio.

 

I always listen to the radio through the night, intermittently between dropping in and out of sleep. I have a single 'earphone' so as not to disturb Lady M.

For some reason, known only to themselves, the BBC have stopped broadcasting to Europe, so I am now limited to LBC Radio in English.

LBC is a Talk Radio station. The same old presenters, discuss the same old subjects, with the same old callers. When I came back to France in June, I could hardly believe that nothing seemed to have changed, or advanced, over the past year. It was like listening to constant repeats. 

The quality of mobile phones varies enormously, so many calls are almost indecipherable. The callers themselves are varied, and go from highly intelligent to completely bonkers. They also cover all political colours and attitudes; that side of them is good.

The presenters themselves vary in standard. Most are good 'communicators', but a few are so politically biased that it makes them almost worthless. They have an agenda, and they won't be budged. Not what one wants in a broadcast discussion.

I'm very upset that I can no longer receive the BBC Radio 4 Extra channel. LBC is no comparison; but I listen to it anyway. I just wish that the most obsessive callers (who call almost every night) would give it a break.

Time flies

 

My goodness, it's really gone so quickly. Our Summer is already slowly winding down. Kimbo and Susie have been gone for a while, one grandson has been driven to the airport and is already back in London (or Oxford), and my youngest (with Boo Boo and The Cherub and another grandson) are in Switzerland. My daughter, Tenpin, and another grandson, are spending some time on The Amalfi Coast before returning to Oz. Now we are all by ourselves again, and it feels very strange.

Having 11 people in the house was too much, and some eventually followed my original advice, and rented a nearby Gite. 

Luckily they were not here for the big storm of July 16th. It was frightening and destructive, and I'm sure the two smallest boys would have been petrified. However, they were all here for the huge forest fires near Bordeaux, the smoke even this far East was dreadful.

My 80th birthday went well. Kimbo made a superb film of my life with some wonderful surprises, and we ate at a favourite restaurant that night. A LOT of Champagne was consumed, including one bottle of Dom Pérignon 2017 (my first taste, and probably last, of DP ever).

I managed to catch a real stinker of a cold just before my birthday, but even though it was, and still remains, quite unpleasant, it didn't mar my enjoyment. I haven't been ill for years, then just when you really don't want, etc .......

I'm very lucky. I have a wonderful family, and it was a real pleasure having them all here (just one grandson was unable to come, he was working in Oz); we now have about a month before we head back to Blighty for Autumn/Winter. 

It was interesting how everyone seemed to go shopping without ever consulting each other. We ended-up with dozens of Eggs, all sorts of Yogs, packs of strange Milks, Melons, unknown cheeses, and of course piles of half-eaten Baguettes. I'm going to have fun sorting through the various fridges.

The Cherub learned to ride a bike. We've had no Crickets or Cicadas. And all the grass is crisp and beige. 

Summer 2026 was certainly a great vintage; and it ain't over yet.

Happy Birthday, and RIP

 

Today is my Father's birthday, he was born on August 5th 1905.

He wasn't a Cricket on the Lawn, Camping in the Woods, or Swimming in Lake, type of father; he was more a solid, old-style, presence.

I have so much to thank him for. He gave us lovely homes to live in, the best schools to attend, and a good solid home life. We never lacked anything; but we were never demanding. We grew-up with high standards of behaviour, honesty, and the respect for others.

He was always involved in local politics, and was well-loved as an employer. He was both a 'generous and a good' person.

So, Father, thank you again for everything. All that you did for me is still highly appreciated, and I continue to tell your great grandchildren what a kind person you were. Your picture (above) hangs in pride of place, in our Sitting Room in France; in the house you so aptly named 'The Nut House' (on account of the nearby Walnut trees!).

Below is my father as a boy, with his older brother, my Uncle Reginald.

What a Mug!

We used to be able to buy a really effective Weed Killer based on Glyphosate. It did everything that it claimed to do; and quickly.

However, those bloody busybodies in Brussels decided that it was far too effective, and that we should now be forced to have some less effective product in it's place. I went looking.

I do like to keep my garden, and pool area, looking as neat as possible. I like a combination of 'Jungle' and 'tidy'. Certain paved areas really do require the regular services of a good weed killer.

I came across this one above. The container was pleasantly colourful, it promised that it was 'Bio', and clamed to kill 99.999% of known weeds (don't they all).

I followed the instructions, diluting by 50% with water, and set to work; it promised to show results within ONE HOUR (Action Express). I waited a few days, but nothing seemed to have wilted; let alone died. I made a second batch using a higher concentration, and was very surprised to see that yet again everything resisted; if anything they seemed to enjoy it.

I began to wonder if I'd bought the wrong product; but no, it was what I'd wanted.

Then I decided to have a look at the label to see what this stuff contained. I was shocked to find that it was no more than WHITE VINEGAR; pure and simple. The same clear vinegar that we keep in the house for various other household purposes. I have a couple of litres of the stuff; it costs peanuts.

I now feel like a right mug. This stuff cost me about £5, and I already had plenty. I hear that Glyphosate can still be bought on the 'Dark Web'. I shall have a discreet look.

Les Bons Vivants in Corsica (Part 2).

If you are either a Vegetarian, a teetotaller, or a killjoy, then turn away now; or you will be horrified!

Here are Arthur and Vincent still in Corsica, eating their way through various herds of Lambs, Pigs, and Cows; all washed down with local wines and alcohols, with a bit of singing.

Here in my village we also have a big tradition of hunting. The chasseurs have a clubhouse in the woods where activities similar to the video happen every Autumn/Winter. I expect their wives and girlfriends are glad to be rid of them!

 

What did she just say ???

 

I have just been listening to an American 'Democrat' talking about their policies. In my wildest dreams, I had never imagined that the USA could espouse policies that are even crazier than those of the UK's Polanski or Corbyn.

In a question/answer interview, Megan Romer, a senior representative of the DSA (Democratic Socialists of America), gave a fascinating insight into her view of a future US. Frankly I was shocked; I wasn't sure if I was listening to a comedy show, or the world's worst political nightmare. This was pure lunacy.

I didn't have time to note all her ideas, but she kept a straight-face as she declared how the DSA would 'Save America'.

She would abolish The Senate, which she described as being based on the UK's upper 'House of Lords'. The Upper House may at times be a thorn in the side of government, but that is why it is there. It is designed to 'filter' anything too crazy from becoming law.

She also wants to do away with all national borders; to allow any Tom Dick or Pedro in and out of the USA at will. WOW!!! Fellow Democrat Barack Obama managed to boot-out 5.3 Million undesirables; this loony wants to let them all in again!

She wants to abolish all PRISONS. I can't even imagine what was going through her mind with this one. Criminals would presumably be allowed to ply their trade without the fear of ever being punished. It's an interesting idea (totally bonkers of course), which no doubt would appeal to the criminal fraternity!

She also wants to 'Defund the Police'. I'm not quite sure what she means by this, but it seems to go along with her lets-all-be-nice-to-criminals stance.

And lastly, and possibly most dangerously, she wants to abolish the US department of ICE (Immigration and Customs Enforcement). A drug dealer's, and people smuggler's dream. Along with banning prisons, and doing away with the Police, this must be the greatest charter for a lawless USA ever proposed.

 p.s. There is a short video circulating (top of page) of this woman and her ideas. Anyone thinking of voting in her direction would be wise to have a look!

Jeans; the story continues.

It was back in August of 2016, ten years ago, when I bought a couple of pairs of Jeans here in France.

I hadn't worn Jeans for years, and I was tempted by seeing these (below) on offer at my local Leclerc supermarket, for the ridiculous sum of just 6.35 Euros per pair. About £5.

Since then I've worn them a lot. The are quite heavy so they are more Winter wear rather than for Summer. They are still in perfect condition.

They are 'old codger' Jeans; no tears in the knees, no skin tight legs, and no artificial bleaching. Just good old solid and comfortable Jeans that are made to last. They are tough Cowboy Jeans. Jeans for Horse riding.

So, this is what I used to look like whilst out walking with Billy. I even still wear the same scarf, and hobble along with the same silver topped cane. Billy is still with me too.

In a perfect world I would like to be buried in my Jeans; they would make a perfect 'shroud'. And I would definitely be wearing my beige Desert Boots. 

I haven't worn them for a couple of months; it's been too hot. But they are in waiting, and I look forward to wearing them again.