Goodbyes of 2024.

Annie Nightingale, radical radio DJ. 

Dave Myers, well-loved hairy biker (above). 

David Soul, 'Hutch'.

Rob Burrow, battling Rugby League player. 

Glynis Johns, lovely actress.

Ian Lavender, Dad's Army star.

O J Simpson, robber, kidnapper, and alleged murderer.

Dr Michael Mosley, health guru.

Francoise Hardy, French singer of 1962 hit Tous les garcons et les filles.

Arthur 'Gaps' Hendrickson, Ska singer with 'The Selector'.

Donald Sutherland, M*A*S*H

John Mayall, Blues man.

Bebe 6, Elsie 7, and Alice 9, three small girls murdered in Southport.

Graham Thorpe, Cricketer.

Alan Delon, French heart-throb.

Sven-Goran Eriksson, England football manager.

Peter Jay, Diplomat, journalist, and intellectual.

Dame Maggie Smith, actress and national treasure.

Liam Payne, teenage idol.

Alex Salmond, Caledonian independence crusader.

Geoff Capes. Strongman.

Ron Ely. Tarzan.

Sir John Nott. Astute politician.

Trevor Sorbie. Barber/Hairdresser.

John Prescott. Pugnacious, Jag loving, politician.

And finally (it should really have been firstly), last year I failed to mention the lovely Annabel Giles who died here in Brighton at the end of 2023. I heard about her death too late to include in my 2023 list. So RIP Annabel, albeit one year late!

Women, Don't Drive

I am not promoting the message in this video. I'm posting it just for the comedy angle. No, really I am; honest!

Wot, no furry dice?

In the months before Christmas, my late Swedish Mother-in-Law (MorMor) used to knit Socks for her grandchildren.

They were pleasant enough, but not what one might call 'fashionable'. They were made of grey wool, and had a coloured stripe around the top. Her three grandchildren all received a pair, and all wore them; usually hidden behind gumboots.

Unfortunately they didn't wear well, and usually developed holes in the heels after a very short while.

So she decided to change tack, and make miniature versions instead.

In the absence of Furry Dice, we have always hung them in the car from the rearview mirror. Alternatively they have been hung on the Christmas Tree.

I must say, I do love MorMor's mini-socks. They make me smile, and remind me of her at the same time.

The old gal had a good sense of humour.

p.s. Today is Lady M's birthday. 27 again!

 

Rite of Passage

There are certain things we all hopefully remember. Our first kiss, passing one's driving test, or even our first day at work.

We had a pre-Christmas extravaganza with all family who just happened to be in Brighton, and I decided that it was the perfect occasion for my oldest Grandson, Suave Harve, to carve his very first joint.

I had roasted a Leg of Lamb, and it was just crying-out for Harve to show his ability.

The knife was sharpened, the method explained, and he set to work.

I must say, he was very cautious and precise, and he did a fabulous job. I don't remember when I carved my first Leg of Lamb, but I must have been a lot older than Harve.

I hope he remembers the occasion. Sadly he wasn't with us for Christmas, otherwise I would have got him to carve the Turkey too.

 

Almeria

Greenhouses as far as the eye can see!

This, unfortunately, is where most of our fruit and vegetables comes from these days. Everything is grown under an ocean of plastic. The manual work involved is carried out mostly by illegal immigrants from N Africa.

Almeria is on the south-eastern tip of S Spain; just a short Mediterranean swim from both Algeria and Morocco. It has a climate that is perfect for growing almost anything.

The very worst Almeria-grown product that I've ever tasted was Asparagus. It was totally devoid of any flavour whatsoever. As you can imagine, I bought it without having read the country of origin.

I suspect we'll be seeing a lot more Almeria-grown products on our supermarket shelves before too long. With our farmers facing politically imposed difficulties, less will be home-grown, and more imported.

Back in 1985 (I think), Brussels were paying English Apple growers to 'grub-up' their orchards, and huge acreages were lost; the result being all those tasteless Apples coming from Spain.

We do seem to be shooting ourselves in the foot here in the UK, I would have thought it far more sensible for our government to encourage fruit and veg' growing on home soil, rather than forcing farmers to leave their farms. It just doesn't make sense.

I'm afraid that on Monday I grabbed a pack of Sprouts, whilst trying to avoid the crowds, never imagining that they would NOT be English-grown. When preparing them on Christmas morning I noticed that they came from The Netherlands. Oh dear! I really must pay more attention.

Meanwhile those horticulturists in Almeria must be rubbing their hands in glee; their futures look very rosy indeed!

Yesterday

I am showing this picture of my roasted Turkey simply to illustrate how tender it was. 

I tried to transfer the bird from its roasting dish onto a serving dish, and it literally fell apart. I have never known a Turkey to be that tender before.

Of course, we all ate and drank far too much, but it was all good!

And as for that hamper (laundry basket) from a well-known Knightsbridge store, It was jam-packed with goodies. I may not need to go shopping for six months!

 

Cro's Christmas Greeting 2024.

Doesn't it come around quickly. Another year, another Christmas.

May I wish you all an extremely happy day. xxx