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.

Looking back.

When you've been a Veg' grower for as long as I have, and it suddenly all comes to an end, it leaves a gaping hole in one's life. This was Haddock's 10 years ago, when it was still in full production.

I see Red Onions, Caulis, Red Cabbage, Aubergines, Peppers, Tomatoes, and probably Broccoli in the background. There are also a few Hens in the ramshackle run. It was the sort of garden that all country folk aspire to.

In a lower section (out of sight) there were Courgettes Pumpkins and Butternuts. And elsewhere there were Apples, Plums, Raspberries, Cherries, Figs, Globe Artichokes, and Rhubarb. No space was wasted.

It was amazing how much I grew from such a small plot of land. One doesn't need several acres in order to be self-sufficient (or almost). One simply needs to be well-organised, and prepared for a lot of weeding!

One of my greatest pleasures of living out in the countryside (in S W France) was growing things. I still grow fruit, but not vegetables. With only three months at our home each year these days, there really isn't time, although I do intend to ask Kimbo to plant some Tomatoes for us, and I shall grow some Bok Choi; which I believe grows quite quickly. We shall see.

I loved seeing my cupboards filled with preserves; we made everything we possibly could. It must have been a very good year for Cepes (top, pale jars). What better in Winter than a Cepe omelet! Also plenty of Tomato based preserves, and Jams, with two other cupboards filled.

Sadly my veg' production is now over, and Haddock's has been given over to fruit growing. I shall plant some Peach trees there this year; and maybe build a small Pagoda/Summer house. Already it gives us plenty of fruit for jam in the Summer months, but you can never have enough Peaches.

Meanwhile we enjoy our 2025 jam; which seems to be disappearing very quickly.

 

The Centenary of a Sussex Hero

 

Back in 1923, the young Scott, John Logie Baird (above), invented the very first TV in his rooms in Hastings, E Sussex.

It was a rustic affair, comprising of bits and pieces that he found around him; including an old hat box, some scissors, darning needles, a tea chest, and some sealing wax. A machine worthy of Heath Robinson.

Baird 'perfected' his 'Televisor' over the next few years,  and EXACTLY 100 YEARS AGO presented his invention to 40 members of London's prestigious 'Royal Institution' in an upstairs room in Soho.

Little did he know quite what his experiments would lead-to. 

He died in Bexhill in East Sussex, just one month before I was born.

This (below) I believe was his very first transmitted image.

So, thank you Johnny; you changed our lives for ever! For the good and the bad.

Fly Tipping.

Fly Tipping has become a real problem in parts of the UK. Unscrupulous land owners are making fortunes by allowing industrial scale dumping on their farm land; usually amidst woodland, where they hope it won't be seen. Other land owners (real farmers) are suffering from daily (nightly) secret dumping.

It takes place on hidden farm tracks, and even on quiet roads, where builders and clearance-people simply dump their detritus in order to save a few £'s. Some of the scale of this Fly Tipping is horrendous.

This particular example below, is actually on a public road. Unbelievable!

The UK's punishment for people who drive too fast on the M25, or steal whiskey from Tesco, is lenient and forgiving. But it should be severe for those who blight our lives by their litter (and worse). They should be put in the stocks, flogged, and tattooed with the word SCUM on their foreheads. Then they should be chained inside a very large dustbin outside their own homes, where people could empty all their vilest of trash (mostly baby's nappies)!

Yes, I'm very lenient when it comes to Fly Tippers.

 

Starmer on Tour.

Sir Kreepy Starmer is in China, his sidekick Rachel from Accounts was supposed to be accompanying him, but she's been misbehaving and has been left at home. Starmer is visiting his paymasters chums.

So, what further deals can they clinch? China have already flooded our market with their EV's. We've finally given-in to their plans for a MEGA-Embassy-Spy-Centre. They will soon be in control of our massive new home solar-heating drive. They have considerable control over our Nuclear power, Gas and Electricity provision, Heathrow airport, our Greatest Universities, Real Estate, and Telecoms.

In fact, just about everything that keeps the UK running seems to be part, or fully, owned by Beijing.

They're no fools the Chinese; however, they always presume that others are!

So what, we ask, can Starmer be trying to achieve by his visit (which was only sanctioned after the Mega embassy deal was approved). Sell them a few pots of Colman's Mustard, or maybe a few bottles of Vimto? Or just sign off a few more deals allowing yet more massive Chinese 'investment'.

Watch The News; the UK's humiliation will possibly be revealed in the next few days!

 

Carry on De-Camping

 

When my late Father-in-Law finally quit his life travelling the world as a diplomat, he settled in Crowborough in Sussex.

You may have seen Crowborough on The News, every day for the past month. It is a genteel, small town, typical of many such East Sussex locations. Not much happens, there is little crime, and it has an aura of well-heeled respectability.

Outside of the town, on the road to Uckfield, is a large Army Training Camp, which was used to train Army Cadets. This has now been closed, the Cadets removed, and an exciting new use has been found by the government's Woke-Folk.

The camp is to hold 600 charming illegal immigrants, and the entire population of Crowborough is UP IN ARMS. They DON'T WANT 600 young swarthy foreigners, of whom they know absolutely nothing, roaming the streets of their small town. They are frightened that what has happened so often elsewhere, will now happen on their own doorsteps. They are locking-up their wives and daughters, reinforcing their home security systems, putting locks on their outdoor buildings, and installing CCTV cameras wherever they can.

But most of all, they simply want them to GO SOMEWHERE ELSE! 

Preparing for War

It is so reassuring to know that we have a government that cares for our health and safety; especially in preparation for nuclear war.

The UK government has now advised all UK citizens to make certain provisions in case of being attacked by Putin (I imagine).

According to the government's 'UK Prepare' website, we should keep five particular things in the boots of our cars, just in case we happen to be driving along to Sainsbury's when the bomb drops! A First Aid Kit, A Fire Extinguisher, A Warning Triangle, A Reflective Vest, and A Tow Rope. This (below) is their official picture.

These five things, we are assured, will protect us from any WW3 attack.

Well, I would like to thank our government for their advice; I feel much safer now. 

In case of a nuclear blast here in Brighton I will try to put-out any fire with the extinguisher, offer the wounded a sticking plaster, wear my Hi-Viz jacket just for fun, and erect the warning triangle in case no-one has noticed that we've been attacked. I'm still trying to think of a use for the tow rope.

As well as the above we are also encouraged to keep a good supply of the items below inside our own homes. 

Bottled water, tinned foods, torch and batteries, matches, warm clothes, Swiss army knife, radio, passport or ID, money, and a compass and maps. I think I have all of those, as well as the car stuff.

Well, I don't know about you, but if WW3 is declared, and Putin starts throwing Nuclear weapons at us, I shall open my best bottle of Champagne and sit outside until the blast hits me.

A post-Nuclear world wouldn't be worth living in.

Exercise

At the moment, the only exercise I get is a couple of half-hour walks a day with Billy. By the time each half-hour is up, I am usually hardly able to walk. The strength in my hips and legs has gone. It is worrying.

The best exercise for me, and the one I enjoy the most, is swimming. That DOESN'T mean going down to the sea, or a local pool, but swimming at home in France.

Our pool isn't big, it's 9 metres long by 4 metres wide. Big enough for us, but not for Olympic competitions.

Every time I enter the pool (usually 3 or 4 times a day), I do 10 or more lengths. I'm sure that it does me good. Swimming exercises all parts of the body, and is (mostly) painless.

I'm sure it helps with my mobility, and is preferable to 'going to the gym'. 

My only problem is that I'm in England, and it'd be too cold to swim anyway! But I can dream.

 

I gave it to the cat!

It's an old favourite, but I still love it.

The legend of Gelert

It's Wales's most famous legend. The story of Gelert the Dog.

I was reminded of the story just recently, and will relate it here for the benefit of those who may not know of it.

In the 13th C, Prince Llewelyn the Great, of Caernarvonshire, was renowned as a great hunter, he would go hunting daily.

On one such occasion he called for his dogs, but his favourite 'Gelert' did not appear. Llewelyn went off hunting regardless.

When he returned to his castle, Gelert came bounding over to greet him, but Llewelyn saw that he was covered in blood. Fearing the worst he rushed to his one-year-old son's bedroom and found the walls dripping in blood, with no sign of his son.

He at once came to the conclusion that Gelert had savaged and killed the small boy, and immediately drew his sword and killed his beloved dog with a single strike through his heart.

It was when the dog was making his final pained death howls that Llewelyn heard the faint cry of a child. He found his son lying under his upturned cot, and lying by his side was a giant dead Wolf.

It soon became obvious that Gelert had killed the Wolf who had been trying to savage the small boy. Gelert had bravely saved his young son's life.

The distraught Llewelyn was so upset that he buried his beloved Gelert outside his castle walls, and raised a large cairn over the dog's grave so that the people of the village could see what a brave dog he had been, and also to express his own remorse.

That's it; the legend of Gelert!

 

Complete bloody madness

 

I mentioned yet again, recently, about our Chagos Islands, after President Tru*p pointed out how stupid Starmer is being.

The UK owns some strategically important islands in the British Indian Ocean, which the Socialists want to give to Mauritius, along with a golden handshake of £35 Billion. Yes, you DID read that correctly, but do feel free to read it again if incredulous.

Mauritius is well known to be a China friendly country; and the Chinese are obviously very happy.

It has also been revealed that Starmer has given the go-ahead to Communist China to build a HUGE MEGA-Embassy in the heart of London's financial district (below). They already have an enormous embassy in Portland Place, London W1, so why do they need another even bigger one? For heaven's sake; just look at the bloody size of it. It's the size of a small town!

We hear that there are to be all sorts of 'secret underground rooms'. When the plans were submitted along with the planning application, did no-one ask what these secret rooms were for?

Foreign embassies serve several purposes. They look after the interests of their own nationals, they hope to improve trading links, and they gather information. Foreign diplomats are also afforded special dispensations.

Now that this dreadful decision has been made, it only remains to be seen who will be building this vast edifice (if, in fact, it does go ahead). Will they bring over their own builders and do everything in secret, or will British builders be involved?

China has already 'bought' much of Africa, and it won't be too long before they are doing the same in the UK. Does it come as any surprise that Starmer is wanting to end the production of Petrol/Diesel cars, and is encouraging us to buy EV's instead; knowing that by far the majority of these cars come from China!

As with the Chagos Islands saga, the British people are HORRIFIED at this extremely dangerous decision. I, along with so many others, have serious doubts about Starmer's loyalties.

Tru*p may be wrong about many things, but on the subject of The Chagos Islands and the new Chinese Embassy, he is absolutely RIGHT. Even MI5 agrees with him!

Starmer will visit China at the end of the month! Hmmm.

Spirits

When I left school, I was summoned to The Headmaster's study, and, along with a few fellow leavers, was given a short lecture on 'life after school', etc.

He gave us two particular pieces of advice, the second (I won't mention the first) of which was NOT to drink spirits, as they should be regarded as 'medicine', and should be reserved for later in life when such things might be needed!

Well, I have followed his advice (plus the one I won't mention), and have restricted my alcohol intake to moderate amounts of Beer and Wine.

However, these days I have found myself drinking tiny amounts of either Single Malt Whiskey, or more often Rum. Just a thimble-full before bed.

We do also have quite a collection of Gins in the house. Not my tipple at all, but I'm pleased to see that there's a bottle of Brighton Gin amongst them. These are mostly reserved for Lady M's Friday Night Girl's Club Gin Parties.

I think most of the spirits in this house, are used for culinary purposes. I don't think anyone actually drinks either Cognac or Armagnac, but the bottles seem to empty quickly enough; especially around Christmas.

In France I have several bottles of 'Eau de Vie'. People make far too much (illicitly) and give it to friends, who tuck it away at the back of cupboards, waiting for the day when they need to clean some old tarnished brass. It's lethal stuff, and comes either made from Grapes, Plums, or Pears. It's best use is (diluted) for preserving Prunes or Greengages. Otherwise.... DANGER!

It's a bit dark and miserable at the moment, so I might well have a tiny tot of Captain Morgan tonight..... CHEERS.

 

Water water everywhere, nor any drop...

The Waitrose Supermarket that I visit is positioned very close to the Hove Greyhound Stadium, in fact I have to go past the stadium on my way out.

For the past year or so, this big blue 'SpotlessWater' container/dispenser has been positioned outside the stadium, but I have yet to see anyone use it.

You may have heard about the trouble they've had in Tunbridge Wells and East Grinstead, with their water having been turned off for weeks. South East Water have messed up the system, and residents have been given bottled water instead. If you have no way of collecting rain water, or have no access to a stream, then bottled water would have been your only way to flush the loo, as well everything else. Luckily here in Brighton we have Southern Water, and are not affected.

So, what is this SpotlessWater that one can buy for between 4.3p and 6.3p per litre?

Well, the answer has to be; I have no idea. Yes, it's probably been filtered or zapped with UV light, but what is the point. A few impurities in the water probably does us more good than harm (as long as they're not Russian impurities).

Personally I want my water to be 'drinkable', with no taste of wet dog, or showing the colour of mud. It should be transparent, and tasteless, with (hopefully) all serious impurities removed.

In France we have Spring Water, and we are issued with a Water Purity certificate, so that we know that it's as pure as possible, yet we still see lots of people buying masses of very expensive bottled water (which are probably filled from a tap elsewhere). 

As long as it still flows from the tap, I shall keep drinking the water I pay for. I certainly won't be buying SpotlessWater, or those expensive plastic bottles at Sainsbury's or Leclerc.

 

Where your money goes!

                        "I know, let's give £18 Billion to Mauritius".

It wouldn't be quite so funny if it wasn't true! This is £257 per man, woman, and child UK resident that we're giving to Mauritius. And, of course, we're throwing-in our sovereign Chagos Islands as well.

We all know how stupid this gift to Mauritius is; other, of course, that the Socialists.

Even Tru*p knows how stupid it is, and has made his feelings known. Maybe Starmer will now see the light, and scrap this very very very silly idea.

Tru*p may be wrong about many things, but he's right about this!

 

Men in Tights

I have said it many times; I am a very liberal thinking person, and have nothing against men dressing as women, or women dressing as men. Here in Brighton such things are a part of everyday life.

I'm not familiar with the magazine 'Glamour UK', but I imagine it's a fashion mag' similar to many others. This front cover popped-up on my news-feed, and celebrated their 'Women of the Year'.

The only thing they failed to mention on the cover, was that none of the 'Dolls' is a woman.

It might seem a trivial thing to many, but I'm not sure what message this gives to genuine 'biological women', who have recently seen their gender being debased at the toss of a coin.

Teenage girls and young women are much more aware of their gender and attractiveness than their male counterparts. They are body conscious in a way that males aren't. To be female is actually 'important', whereas to be male is just 'blokey'.

So why would a fashion magazine, who's readership I imagine is 99% female, put a bunch of cross-dressers on their front page cover, and refer to them as 'Women of the Year'? It doesn't make sense, and at worst it is insulting.

Gender has been under attack from the dungaree-wearing, do-gooder, snowflake, wokey-folk for some while. They really don't like the idea of distinct genders. In fact I imagine that 'Chromosomes' are viewed as the enemy.

I now see that the all female Newnham College in Cambridge has fallen prey to the wokey-folk, and are allowing cross-dressers to enter their once sacred single-gender halls. At the same time I hear that nurses at a Darlington hospital have won their case about having to share 'changing facilities' with a cross-dresser. Just occasionally the cause fails, then in return it occasionally advances.

I don't wish to enter the ins and outs of very rare hermaphroditic genders, but why can't we return to the days when cross-dressers didn't claim to have genuinely changed sex (which is impossible anyway). They just enjoyed their preferences, wore women's clothes, and we all accepted it.

 

More unfinished work.

I've just been up in the loft; or, I tried to get up into the loft!

There are things I need to find, but it was impossible for me to get further than the top step of the ladder.

However, I did find this unfinished portrait of my daughter Tenpin. So many of my family portraits are unfinished; presumably because the sitters were too impatient.

I also found a painting of Lady M, which contained 'sections' that I really liked. The hands were particularly nice, as well as some of the overall painting. I hadn't seen the picture for years, and had forgotten how 'satisfactory' it was. I might bring it down, and photograph some of the best bits.

I am trying to devise a plan for the loft, using the rafters on either side to create shelves, which would house all the junk, and leave an empty aisle down the middle. It's do-able, but not (I fear) by me.

Something MUST be done, it's a nightmare up there; and it's filled with stuff that I value!

The Exceptional Cepe

One of delights of living where we do in France is the availability of wild mushrooms. Our village has a well-deserved reputation.

The King of Mushrooms (other than Truffles) is the Cepe (Boletus Edulis). Its taste is such that mushroom hunters become obsessed. Locations are carefully guarded, and competition is fierce.

Exceptional harvests can always be preserved. They freeze well, and can be bottled in either oil or water; I prefer 'water', as in a recipe given to me by my Vigneronne.

As such I have never had to actually BUY Cepes, either fresh or preserved. But this Christmas I was given a tin of Cepes in oil (above); something I had never tried before.

Well, I was very pleasantly surprised. The texture was certainly different, but the full flavour was still there.

After this upcoming Summer, one of the things on my 'To Bring Back' list will certainly be a few of these tins.

Kimbo also gave me a jar of Girolles (Chanterelles), but I'm not expecting them to be quite as good. There is no question that the taste will be there, but I've always found that preserving Girolles never really works.

Watch this space... I shall report back!

NB. The Co that cans these mushrooms is called Laguilhon, and their products are always sold in their distinctive yellow packs/tins/etc. They are makers of all of the local specialities, and if you are in the S W France, area and thinking of taking back a few treats, I can recommend everything they produce. I have never been disappointed!