Winter's solution

I've never made a secret of the fact that I dislike winter intensely. I hate the cold, I detest snow, I become depressed, my whole body tends to ache for months on end, I manage to achieve one painful stiff neck after another, my lips crack, I walk around looking like an over-padded sumo wrestler, and (worst of all), France's beautiful women no longer wear their delightful flighty summer dresses.

So I've decided that, starting from this Autumn, I shall spend all future winters in hospital. I shall book myself in, on or around mid-September, and stay until mid-April. That way any minor, or major, ailment can be treated at once, and with the constant attention of several pretty nurses, they can make sure that nothing nasty turns-up unexpectedly.

Now it's just a matter of finding a free, Riviera based, five star, gourmet-hospital that's willing to take me.

Bathroom Visitor.

Lady M. CRO!!!!

Cro. What!

Lady M. There's a spider in the bathroom; the size of a hamster.

Cro. That's nice (reaching for camera).

Lady M. Can you do something about it.

Cro. Like inform London Zoo?

Lady M. KILL IT!

Cro. Why?

Lady M. Because!

Cro. I'll pop him outside.

Lady M. Has he gone yet?

Cro. No, he ran into your pyjamas, and now I can't find him.

Lady M. Oh for god's sake, expletive, expletive.

Cro. Only joking (tee hee hee).

The Comparison of Chalk with Cheese.

Bok: Run, skid, sniff, cock, squirt, run.

Monty: Amble, sniff around, maybe cock leg, maybe not, pee, trot.

Bok: Run, dash, return, repeat.

Monty: Trot, find stick, walk through puddle, drop stick, trot, repeat.

Bok: Look at bowl, decide whether hungry or not, reconsider, maybe eat, sleep in Monty's bed.

Monty: Lightning bolt, empty bowl in one mouthful, eat bowl, search for more, belch, put on pleading eyes, sulk.

Warning! This Might Smart a Bit.

There's an increasingly alarming trend back in England, for young idiots to steal valuable metals.

They steal track from the railways, cast iron inspection covers from holes in the roads, bronze plaques from war memorials (unbelievable), lead from church roofs, and copper cables from overhead electricity pylons. Their swag ending up at dodgy scrap metal yards.

One would have thought that telling criminals just once, that this was both illegal and dangerous, would have been enough. But no, they will continue, and accidents happen.

The two above (yes, if you look closely you'll see two) failed to heed the well-publicised advice from the electricity people, that to shin-up a pylon with a pair of bolt-cutters could prove fatal, and sadly they can be seen to have reaped the benefits of their illegal stupidity.

And the moral to this tale? Don't test the circuit by putting your fingers into the socket!

Why is it that I feel very little sympathy for these two!

The Mystery of the Missing Beret!

I wonder what happened to Cro's favourite beret (the one in my profile pic); and why Bok is looking so very guilty?

No doubt all the clues will soon be assembled, dissected, and analysed; and, hopefully, the mystery solved.

Now, where's my other one?

Not So Handy Man.

Several (many) bloggers that I follow have been moaning recently about their aches and pains. So I thought I'd add to the arena of physical woes by telling you about my own current ache, just in case anyone should have an encouraging diagnosis.

It started on my right hand. I had pain at the base of my thumb and throughout the surrounding fleshy part. Then it moved to my left hand (see superb illustration above) where it has stayed for over a week. My hand is now weak, I have nasty pain when I try to do anything, and frankly it's become an effing nuisance.

If you're going to tell me it's the onset of arthritis; please don't! If, however, it sounds like something simpler (with a simple one pill remedy) then I'd be pleased to have your diagnosis. My only thought at present is 'Carpal Tunnel  Syndrome'.

I take note of all amateur medics.

Peppered Ham.

A while back I posted a picture of this Christmas present from Lady Magnon; a beautiful small peppered Ham. For those not au fait with such delights (and wondered what was inside) here is the answer.

I shall not, however, be showing the insides of my new 'phone.