Oh, I do love to be beside the seaside....

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky.

Ah; Summer. Tis the season when we're so happy to live by the sea. To walk along the sea's edge, let the cooling water splash over our bared feet, and enjoy the peace and quiet of a sunny summer's day.

The only problem is that as soon as the temperature rises above 20 C, and they have a day off, half of London thinks the same thing, and they flock down to the coast in their bloody thousands. (Do enlarge photo)

Our very central home runs parallel to the main street from the station to the sea, and even though there are hoards of sun-worshippers heading for the beach with their sun hats and multi-coloured towels; we see none of them. Miraculously our little street remains very quiet and un-sullied.

We stay at home and walk the dog. The 'Rest Garden' is usually very peaceful and I sit with Billy in the shade of a big tree, and let all those tourists eat thir ice-creams, and roast themselves, on the over-crowded beach.

Oh, I do love to be beside the seaside.....

 

Service without any smile.

It's been very hot, sunny, and extremely bright.

My old shades had become a bit cloudy, and had seen better days. I needed new ones.

I had a bit of a look around certain shops likely to sell such things, and couldn't find what I wanted. Some came close but were expensive.

So, what does a chap do when he's at a loss? He goes to Amazon (of course).

The choice was extensive (as you can imagine) and I trolled through page upon page of over-fancy and over-priced glasses until I came across what I wanted. Some simple, polarized, affordable shades, that just look as 'ordinary' as possible.

I ordered them at about 5.30 pm on the 24th, and they dropped through my letter box at 12 noon on the 25th. Hand delivered, nicely packed, no fuss.

And at about £18 for two pairs (inc Post), I shan't panic if (at some time in the future) I lose a pair, or they break.

Thank you Amazon. You're a good'un.

 

Just another morning....

 

I'd been putting some dog 'unmentionables' in the bin, when I was approached by a man of about 35 years old.

"Excuse me Sir, is your name 'Hutchinson' by any chance?". He asked.

"No, I'm afraid not" I replied.

"I'm looking for someone, and I thought you looked a bit like him" he said.

"Not me" I replied "It would be extremely surprising if I was him; with all the number of people around!"

"Well, I thought I'd ask anyway; you do look very much like the person I'm looking for".

"Have your tried any of the Social Media sites, such as Facebook?" I suggested.

"Yes, I've done all that, but nothing".

"Well, I wish you luck with your search" I said, whilst turning to go.

"He's my BLOODY FATHER" he suddenly screamed at me, "and I haven't seen him since my 12th birthday".

Only then did I realise that he was possibly an escapee from Broadmoor. I put Billy on his lead and we walked slowly away, just occasionally looking around to see that he wasn't following me with a Machete. 

Sometimes I feel quite anxious about strangers. This was one such occasion!

Mrs T's 'Care in the Community' never worked, and it never will. Bring back those 'Homes for the mentally disturbed'.

Unite the Kingdom.

'Unite the Kingdom' is a right-wing UK protest group, founded by rabble-rouser Tommy Robinson.

Robinson is quite an unsavoury character, with a string of criminal convictions, assaults, and bankruptcy to his name.

I'm not quite sure exactly when this protest took place; but it says 8 months ago.

What amazes me are the number of people present. Could it be AI generated? 

It comes courtesy of The Guardian (a piss-poor Lefty rag), who wouldn't normally wish to make Robinson seem more popular than he actually is.

I suppose I'll have to accept that the film is genuine.

'Unite the Kingdom' is basically anti illegal immigrant, anti Islam, anti woke-lefty, and anti just about everything to the left of Genghis Khan.

Presuming that the film really is genuine, I'm amazed by how popular this movement is. OK, we're all aware of the strong feelings nationally towards certain troublesome groups, but I had no idea it was THIS strong.

I'm hopeless at estimating crowd numbers, but my guess is 'LOTS'.

 

Lucky Bast*rd

 

Yesterday was the day for my car's (Debi) annual Service, Wash, and MOT.

I had left her with the garage at 8 am, and was advised to collect her at around 5 pm.

At about 4.45 pm I ordered my return taxi, and we set off for the garage. We had hardly gone 20 metres, when the taxi driver pulled-up sharply, jumped out of the car, and ran round to the front.

I wondered what the heck he was up to.

He came back to the car holding a big 'wadge' of bank notes. He had spied them from a distance, and he wasn't going to leave them lying there. There must have been hundreds of £'s; if not thousands (probably drug money).

With his new-found wealth, I was half expecting him to offer me the taxi-ride free of charge; but no, it cost me £20.

Above shows Debi: Serviced, Motted, and Washed. She's now ready for all that life can throw at her.

Look how clean she is! Boootiful.

Precious Keys

Like most people, I dread the idea of losing my keys.

My French house keys are securely guarded. I protect them with my life. They are NEVER away from their place of safe-keeping. Touch them, and you die!

So, it was with much soul-searching that I reluctantly handed over TWO of them to Kimbo, who will pop over for a short stay in a week or so. I put them on a big yellow tag, and he's bolted them to his own house keys.

This (below) is official proof of my handing them over. 

Whilst at the cottage Kimbo suggested that he would like to mow the lawns, and he needed the key to Rory (the mower), and to Rory's Garage.

As you can imagine, I was very hesitant to part with my keys; but he had me in an arm-lock, and I was forced to hand them over.

The problem now is 'Will I ever see them again'? He has been given a very stern warning about looking after them, and where to leave them when he returns.

Last year I entrusted my keys (against my better judgement) to a person who I know very well. She lost them, and I was forced to take an angle-grinder to several padlocks. Never again.

We took the above photo as definitive PROOF that they were handed over.

I shall now be a bag of nerves until we are reunited.

 

Fun at the expense of.......

I've always liked political cartoons; of ALL political persuasions.

I thought this one (below) was particularly good. It was originally entitled 'Wally and Vomit', but is, of course, of our fragrant Prime Minister Keir Starmer and his deputy PM David Lammy. Superb. 

If you are English, or know anything about English politics, you will appreciate what a wonderful portrayal it is.

It has nothing to do with their politics, or even their party allegiances, it is simply a superb bit of comedy, in the tradition of Gillray, Rowlandson, or even Ronald Searle.

Every time I look at it, it makes me laugh (with apologies to anyone who voted for them).