Biological Male Wins Beauty Pageant (The Life of Brian)

I'm throwing in the towel, burying my head in the sand, and in compliance with Pascal's Wager, I might as well simply become a liberal lefty wokey nut-job, and accept that I must 'move forward', and not live in the dark ages.

Has it really come to this? Has wokery gone uber-wuber-wokey-pokey-tastic? Sadly there are people actually being 'CANCELLED' for speaking-out AGAINST such nonsense as this.

I fear there's no going back now unless wokery itself sees its folly, and don't say I haven't been warning them!

And please (you know who you are) don't leave comments telling me that all this is OK and I'm being an old fogey. THIS IS ONLY JUST THE BEGINNING, and it's the fault of all those little dungaree-wearing woke Parrots who will do anything to damage normal society!

A tale of two homes. Dreaming.

It was the best of times, and it was the best of times. Of course I love England, but there's a lot of France I love too. Both countries have their own version of 'best of times'.

With the bloody awful weather we're having at present, I find myself day-dreaming of France quite often.

Of course it would have to be in Summer, sunny, and with the pool water at around 26 C. I would be sipping a glass of Pétrus in the early evening with the prospect of throwing a big slab of Lamb on the BBQ a little later. 

We will, of course, eat outside under our covered auvent, where, after dark, I will turn on the 'fairy lights' that make it all so magical. Laughter and bonhomie fill the air, and the sound of Cicadas complete a picture of total contentment. 

However; here we are back in reality, stuck in the house for most of the day, only occasionally venturing out in the pouring rain to empty the dog, or visit a nearby shop to buy some essential ingredient.

We peer out of the front bay to watch the foolhardy battling to control their brollies or forcing themselves against the wind. We watch bits of tiresome Football games on TV in which we have no interest. We have both Lemon Drizzle cake AND a slice of Stollen with our afternoon cup of Lapsang, making us put on those inevitable 'lazy' extra pounds.

What a difference to last year when the sun shone almost every day, we had no rain, and the temperature remained above zero throughout the whole Winter.

I have just looked at the weather forecast, and it is predicting rain until Dec' 8th (it only goes that far ahead). I think I shall have to return to day-dreaming!

Dragon tattoo full back by Trung Tadashi Artist.

Amazing talent, but I still wouldn't have one!

The Votes are In.

Yes, the votes have been counted, and we have a winner.

Votes for The World Cup's Silliest Haircut goes to.....

Welsh Captain GARETH BALE. 

Well done Gareth. Your country is proud of you!

 

World Cup Fever. England v Paquador

Godparents.

Have Godparents become a thing of the past?

With so few churchgoers, and so few babies being Christened/Baptised, it does seem that Godparents are no longer required. No more plunging babies into cold water, no more promises to make sure that he/she behaves like a saint, and no more guaranties to make sure the poor thing believes in gods, devils, and pixies.

Only once have I been asked to be a Godfather. It was someone I hardly knew, he was a Catholic, and I had never met the infant daughter concerned. Why he chose me is something of a mystery. Anyway, I said 'no', and explained that I wouldn't be a very good example to a young French maiden. Of course, I could have given her a few Francs every birthday, but that didn't seem a good enough reason to go against all my principles.

I myself had a Godfather; he was the husband of my mother's older sister, known to all as Sir James. Unfortunately, he went mad and ended up in a 'home'. As my dutiful Godfather, he had left me a tidy sum in his will, but by the time he died his own sister had bled him dry. My father had been his executor and revealed the sorry state of affairs after his demise. I really wasn't fussed.

That was my only experience of Godfathers, and I'm not sorry to see the 'position' fading into obscurity. I think we can all happily live without them; and I for one can certainly live without having been one.

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.