Bona Ballet - Round the Horne

Our power will be cut this morning, so I'm rushing around trying to get all tasks completed before shut-down. I'd liked to have done something to mourn Sir Norman, but here's a bit of good comedy instead. Scroll down; it's there somewhere!

For those who've not heard of 'Round the Horne', it was a BBC Radio comedy programme from the 60's. Kenneth Horne was the 'compere', and the cast included Kenneth Williams, Hugh Paddick, and Bill Pertwee. The early scripts were written by dream-team Barry Took and Marty Feldman.

The two gay characters, Julian and Sandy, who appear in the show became a British institution. This sketch is from 1966 where the two 'out of work actors' are running a ballet company called Bona Ballet. I hope you enjoy the above. Round the Horne was, and still is, one of my very favourite comedy shows.

Where Should One Live?

Every autumn it's the same; along with the cooler weather comes unshiftable depression, and I dream of warmer climes.

So the problem is, where would be the best place to live? I don't like extreme cold and I don't like extreme heat; I want my daytime temperatures to be about 25C. I also want noticable seasons, rain at night only, no nasty biting bugs, no snakes, and good quality soil.

The place must be very beautiful, with views over either a lake, the sea, or a river. There must be zero crime, no wierdo traditions, beautiful women, and good shops (and vineyards) within reach.

A very well travelled New Zealander friend (now deceased) once recommended the area around Perth in Western Australia, but I'm sure there's somewhere nearer to home.

Many fellow bloggers whose posts I follow have been almost welcoming autumn, cooler weather, log fires, etc. I do appreciate that it's far easier to make oneself warm in cold weather, than cool in warm weather, and I do love wood fires and ovens, but my depression seems to be deeper engraved into my psyche than simply by temperature. I've always looked upon leafless landscape as Stagnancy Season, and it's probably the 'Waiting for Spring' that has the ill effect on my usually jovial character.


If you know where my Utopia lies, I'd love to hear about it. I'm in the market for a small winter bolt-hole.

The Sunday Story: Ball Lightning.

Physicists are claiming that Ball Lightning is simply a trick of the mind. They are suggesting that Lightning might stimulate the brain to hallucinate, and see bright balls of light within the eye itself. Let me tell you of my experience.

When I left college I bought a large run-down granite-built house in Wales, just over the border from North Shropshire. This ancient house had once been a pub, and it came complete with cellars and stories of missing people. None of which has anything to do with my tale.

It was a rather spooky house, and one night I awoke to see a large football-size ball of light, suspended in one corner of the bedroom. The ball was blueish and very bright, but gave off no surrounding light. I remember turning to Lady Magnon to see if she was awake, and the light certainly did NOT follow my eye (sorry physicists; you're wrong). I continued to look at this strange phenomenon for some while until I simply returned to my sleep.

I've spoken to several people about my experience, and have been assured that Ball Lightning is quite a common occurrence. Personally I'd never before heard of such things, nor have I experienced it since. I'm convinced that our physicists with their hallucination theories will have to think again.

This Generous Earth

Even wild food has excelled this autumn. Having suffered from an absence of mushrooms (Boletus Edulis) for several years, we've now had a reasonable harvest. The freezer is full, we've eaten plenty of omelettes, and there's even been a few left over for drying. I slice them quite thinly, put them out in the sun on racks, and when quite dry I give them a final blast above our wood fired oven. I use these mostly in winter Risottos.

It's harvest time at Haddock's. Unfortunately we've had a shortage of Butternuts this year, these few will hardly see us through to Christmas. But there's always something else.

When, in 1950, Philip Oyler wrote his delightful book about this region, he didn't have to look far for his title. He called it quite simply 'The Generous Earth'. The Walnut tree (above) being one of the MOST generous. The nuts are just beginning to drop, and are looking good; in a bad year almost every nut can have a resident worm.

At this time of year, wherever one looks there's something waiting to be gathered, eaten, stored, or preserved. Photography can't do justice to my Bramley tree, it's both huge and covered in fruit, and the windfalls lie deep beneath it. I actually smuggled this tree into France, because (as any English cook will tell you) the Bramley is the most important apple of the year, and they are not available here.

Not quite wine-making time, but very soon the vinyards will be overflowing with foreign students and migrant workers, busying themselves with grape-filled baskets. All my farming neighbours used to have their own small private vinyards, usually making about 2000 litres per family, but sadly all these are long gone. What fun we used to have.

Ah! And at the end of the day, who can pass by a fig tree without stopping for a few of their delicious fruits.

After The Ball Is Over (1929)

Yesterday's Willow Ball.

Typically of Lady Magnon's photography I'm actually just out of shot, over the shoulder of the man on the left (that's the top of my head), but what a fun night we all had. My partner for the evening was old friend Lesley Hornby; better known as Twiggy. Lesley did her best to teach me the Tango; I'm afraid she failed miserably.

Lady Magnon's partner was Professor Jonathan Ashmore (you may remember him as the little boy in 'A kid for two fathings'). Jonathan is now professor of biophysics at UCL, where he's working on a cure for Tinnitus. In between dances with Lady M, he tried to instruct me on the workings of the inner ear; again to no avail.

It was good to meet, and chat with, Willow's dance-partner George Sanders. I've always loved his film 'The Ghost and Mrs Muir'; he told me that it was one of his favourites too.

I managed to take to the floor with some famous faces (sadly not with Willow herself, she was too much in demand), but we had to leave quite early as Lesley had a photo-call for the following morning (back in London). Lady M's rather voluptuous, and eccentric, Viv Westwood dress was a huge success, and we shall be auctioning it for charity in the new year.

My huge thanks, once again, to Willow and all her helpers who made the evening so special. I can't wait for next year's ball; if I'm invited... Those Scotch Eggs were delicious.

I Spied With My Little Eye...

A few more just to make Tom Stephenson even more jealous!