Filthy weather.

The weather has been absolutely foul recently. Wet, wild, and windy. Just what we don't want.

So, what to do?

Any outdoor fun is out of the question, other than dog-walking, so we have to find things to do indoors.

I find myself looking forward to my Lunchtime soup, then looking forward to Crumpets for Tea, then looking forward to something a bit more substantial for Supper. The day becomes ruled by, and divided by, mealtimes.

At present there is plenty of international Football to watch on TV, but that's only OK if one is a fan. I shall watch the England games, but Western Bosnia v Outer Mongolia is not my bag.

I always re-read The Sunday Times, where Dominic Lawson, Camilla Long, and Jeremy Clarkson keep me amused up until about Thursday. I do a crossword or two (try to), or spend a few mins writing this blog. The only book awaiting my attention is Proust's 'A la recherche....' (Vol 1), but as anyone who has attempted to read it will understand, it conveniently gets put aside for later. 

I could pop down to the library and spend a few hours reading in the warmth, filling-in all the 'o's' of a who-done-it, or leaving amusing notes between pages. But it's having to sit beside all those tramps and winos that puts me off. Or I could do what many do and use my bus-pass to ride around the countryside in a double-decker on a circular route that would bring me home again four hours later. No, I don't think so.

Luckily there are a couple of TV programmes on at the moment that I enjoy. One is a sewing competition that I find strangely appealing, probably because I find the whole process totally baffling (and no, I don't sew), and directly afterwards is the other, which is an Antiques appraisal and auction selling programme which is always interesting.

Otherwise, I'm looking forward to Christmas, looking forward to Spring, and looking forward to next Summer. I really do not like this time of year.

 

Yeast v Beef.

I expect most post-war 'bulge babies' (such as myself) will have been raised on these two products; Marmite and Bovril.

Marmite is a Yeast product, and Bovril comes from Beef. Both brands are owned by Unilever.

I just happened to spot a jar of Bovril whilst shopping last Saturday, and was tempted enough to invest.

Bovril fell out of favour in the late 1980's, after a shocking outbreak of highly contagious BSE (Mad Cow Disease). Panic was everywhere, and sadly 4.4 million cattle were slaughtered. There were also almost 200 human fatalities.

My own memories of Bovril date back to when I was a small child. When it was cold, or if I was ill, a large steaming cup of hot Bovril drink (sometimes known as Beef Tea) was just about the most comforting thing on earth. 

So, not having tasted Bovril for well over 50 years, how was it?

Verdict: Not quite as I remember it, but still good. 7/10. (Marmite, of course, still receives a 10/10)

Words

 

I'm not a great wordsmith, I have never been someone to throw around obscure words in order to impress. It is not something that impresses me, and I've always imagined that others would feel the same.

However some quite ordinary words have managed to pass me by. Even with my extensive education, certain words that should have been part of my everyday vocabulary have simply managed to escape.

I remember well when I first saw the word 'ampersand' written somewhere, I could hardly believe that I'd got to adulthood without ever having either seen or heard it somewhere or other. It seemed a word that I should have known; and would have been pleased to know.

I've now found another. It may not be a word for daily use, but there it was on the front page of this weekend's Sunday Times, and it stood out like a sore thumb. Talking of Football (well they had to didn't they) someone mentioned waving a flag aloft 'like a holy gonfalon'.

Now, I don't know if you know what a 'gonfalon' is; but I didn't, so let me tell you. It seems that it's a type of flag or banner held from a crossbar; not unlike those Trades union banners one sees on marches, with streamers or tails.

I don't suppose it's a word that I shall be employing too often, apart from anything I don't like the sound of it. But at least if someone sidles up to me and asks "Would you like to see my gonfalon?", I won't have to slap his/her face. A simple 'no thank you' will suffice.

Daily life. A pot-pourri

It's been about 6 weeks since I bought my new black Compact Royce Mk2. She's much the same as her silver predecessor but a newer model and altogether much nicer. She's also a tad wider, so squeezing her into our bijou garage is just that tiny bit trickier.

She's done a smidgin over 30,000 miles, which I consider just about 'run-in', and as you might see from the dash I have personally driven her only 68.3 miles.

I haven't owned a right hand drive car for many years, and I still find myself reaching down to the right to change gear. Otherwise I'm pretty well used to the slight differences from my last one.

I do my main shopping once a week on Saturday mornings at 7.30 am, and I have begun to really look forward to the short drive. Often I go with Kimbo, so that's a treat in itself, but even if I'm alone I love it. This is where those 68 miles have been clocked.

Otherwise my days are filled with dog-walking, wandering aimlessly, reading, writing, and cooking/eating. With no gardening or fires to demand my attention, I am pretty well free to do what I wish. Had we been wintering in France, life would have revolved around log-sawing and keeping the fires burning, as well as all the other daily bucolic chores. Old stone houses need a lot of upkeep and heating.

With a limited income, and more than one home to pay for, we need to be cautious. No £Thousands a week Social Security payments in this household; just hard-earned savings. We may receive a £200 'cold weather payment' this winter, but, like so many, we are not using the central heating (as yet). 

This is self-imposed 'austerity'. Why the Left hate the idea of austerity so much I have no idea; they accusingly talk of it as if it's a mortal sin. If they thought of it as good 'household management' they'd see how silly they sound. It also used to be referred to as 'cutting one's coat according to one's cloth', but I suppose they'd hate that too. Mr Micawber also comes to mind.

My real problem is that I do like to eat and drink well and I won't normally compromise, so finding ways to satisfy my gourmet demands takes considerable effort. I'd love to buy a big joint of Beef for Sundays, but limited funds won't allow.

Brighton is a great place to live, I love walking about looking at everything on offer; and it's tempting to spend! As I mentioned recently my legs are a tad dodgy so I've invested in a new walking stick. It certainly helps, but I don't need it all the time. I expect it will become a good friend in time.

"Moon River" on Piano for Sharky the Dog

I really enjoyed this; I'm sure you will too.

Spot the Pill

Each morning I take two pills; one large-ish, and one tiny.

I always lay them out by the side of my breakfast plate, and take them once I've finished eating.

Yesterday I knew I'd put them both out but could only find one; the bigger one.

I looked on the floor, under my plate, on my lap, etc, but couldn't find it anywhere. I soon became very frustrated.

I have recreated the scene exactly as it was, and I'm sure you'll easily see my dilemma.

I blame the woman who chose the tablecloth!

 

Poverty in the UK.

The point-scoring Socialists tell us that there are millions of children living in dire poverty in the UK, and of course it's all the fault of the Tories. Well, I for one haven't seen any sign of poverty anywhere, but I suppose I'll have to believe them.

What I have seen, however, is constant proof of people receiving extremely large amounts of benefits. The couple below are typical of how generous the benefits system in the UK can be. Even our very well paid train drivers don't earn that sort of money. One can understand why so many people paddle across the sea to settle here, and why so many people don't bother to get a job. £84,000 pa for doing nothing is pretty good going. 

If our hard-working nurses get the pay rise they demand and deserve, they will go to around £46,000 pa. Still £38,000 less than this fellow (below) on his £84,000 hand-out. (Of course, he may not be typical; some may receive more, some less)

I do wish this couple had asked someone for 'advice', which I'm sure would have been given willingly.

First, they would have been advised NOT to have 35 dogs; one or two is plenty. Seven children is probably a tad too many as well. They should also have been advised to pay someone to keep their home as clean as possible, and reasonably tidy. They could certainly have afforded it.

Then we come to finance. They should have been taught the basics of home-budgeting; how to feed the family well on £1,000 a month, and save the other £6,000 a month for holidays, flash cars, and yet more tattoos.

This way they would have continued their luxurious life-style, stayed out of jail, and had plenty of cash left over for cocaine, beer, and other frivolities. What's wrong with these people!!!

DISCLAIMER: I do know that people live hand to mouth; they do everywhere. And whilst we continue to hear stories about people such as those above, it makes my blood boil.