The English Winter

The English winter - ending in July,
To recommence in August.

Not original that - although I do wish that I had thought of it first. But the originator had a lot of baggage - it was Byron. We have had a few hot days, but now it is back to the showers. Actually I am not too displeased about that. Having had the experience - and education of living in countries where there is endemic water shortage, I would far prefer to have too much of it, rather than too little. Always provided that it is potable and falls from the sky, rather than being salt and driven in from the sea.

Not a lot has happened since the last entry, which was late. The jolly old cellulitis kicked in for a flare-up last Thursday, but now I know what are the symptoms, and have a stash of the recommended antibiotic to deal with it, I seem able to knock it on the head fairly efficiently. I just hope I am not speaking too soon. The trouble is that the recommended antibiotic aforesaid has connections with C-Diff, which something I definitely do no want.

Enough of all this. Mrs Grenyer has developed a wanderlust, and we are booked to go to Lille, Sicily, Germany and Derbyshire before November, and I have to fit in a trip to the Caribbean as well. Some of it will do wonders for the Air Miles, or whatever they are called, so there is a benefit for all.

Just finished on the allotment. Doing all right until the showers mentioned above interfered. Must have picked about 14 pounds of red currants, and the same amount of loganberries, despite the support wires being blown down, and the whole edifice held up with stick tape and acroprops. Also 10 pounds of black currants. The blackberries have come in, but we do not have many bushes. Yet. The idea is to convert the whole plot to soft fruit, thereby getting rid of the need for the heavy digging. The cunning bit is to put grass paths between the row, so there is less hoeing too, but it will still need the grass keeping down somehow - either strimmer or rotary mower. The latter would be quicker, but the machine would need to be taken there and back. Bidborough may not be one of the hotbeds of crime in the country, but a free rotary mower might be just too much.

Went to the Dramatic Society's annual party the other day, and was co-erced into doing a recital. My choice of work! Any of my readers remember the following? I am not sure what the rather elderly denizens of Bidborough thought about it, but they applauded politely.

It gave the family quite a start

When Angela became a tart,

But blood is blood, and race is race

And so to save the family face

They bought her just the sweetest beat

On the sunny side of Jermyn Street.

At first business was rather slow,

And as her savings got quite low

She had to call the family in

And ask just how she might begin

To learn the things that constitute

A really first-class prostitute.

The family made it all quite plain,

So back she went to try again.

Acting on their good advice

She greatly modified her price,

And gave to all who come her way---

Provided they could only pay.

And pay they did, nor did she fail

To introduce a sliding scale

Whereby what cost one man a heap

Another man could get quite cheap.

Knights and nabobs, lords and earls

All brought her gifts of gold and pearls

Just for one hour of practice crude ---

They went away with strength renewed.

At last she thought the time had come

When she could be more venturesome.

And so she bought a little flat

With welcome words upon the mat

And draught excluders round the door ---

All necessary to a whore

For as no doubt you may have guessed

It wasn’t often she was dressed.

And round the walls were pictures rude

Of saucy ladies in the nude.

All these were there displayed to fire

Her clients with a strong desire

To leap between the silken sheets

And start their acrobatic feats.

At last so great was Angie’s fame

That Scotland Yard joined in the game.

They sent a handsome copper round.

That nifty copper quickly found

Sufficient proof of Angie’s ways

To send her down for ninety days

Without the option of a fine.

And so he pinched her – dirty swine.

Now Angie said “It’s most unjust

But do your duty if you must”.

And murmured then, t’wixt sobs and sighs

“Before you go, do up your flies”.

And now she lies in Pentonville.

And though that copper she could kill,

The thought that makes her really sore

Is that some other dirty whore

Now walks the beat, the sweetest beat

On the sunny side of Jermyn Street.

That's all, folks!

Late Again!

I managed to miss the 1 July. Mainly because we went out to a large lunch and the day seemed to pass without my noticing. If you see what I mean.

However, friends have pointed out that I need to pay attention to Psalm 90, because I have achieved the grand old age of 70. I am no longer soixante-neuf. Hence the large lunch.

Over the Great Day itself we were on a cruise. Nothing exotic - on the Leeds and Liverpool Canal. We have discovered a splendid hotel boat - the Lady Teal. Maximum of 5 passengers, en suite cabins with power shower. The Works. And superb cooking. No extras - what you pay is all that you will be charged, unless, of course, you want champagne rather than their perfectly good wine with your lunch and dinner. For details go to http://www.ladyteal.co.uk/

 All very pleasant. And I managed to work the Wigan Flight, all 23 locks, which we managed in 31/2 hours, or thereabouts.

We also managed to miss the Great Inundation. Hebden Bridge and Todmorden, which were both seriously flooded about five hours after we left the boat, were only a very few miles away. Although being on a canal means that you cannot have too much water, as you are right at the top of the flood chain. Too much water in the Canal, and it runs into the river, which then overflows into people's homes. Unless the embankments burst.

Enough of canals. I am now picking pounds of blackcurrants, raspberries and loganberries. Blackberries - the early ones will be next, and redcurrants shortly after. And after all the rain, the sun is shining and I shall have to put on the sunscreen.

More on the 1 August.

Have a good one.

Summer has come!!!!!

Hi de Hi, Campers!

All a bit ordinary last month. Quick visit to Antigua last week. Sat in an airconditioned office without windows for 3 days. Actually not continuous - because was taken to lunch at Sandals on the Tuesday, and went to Rotary lunch on Wednesday. Otherwise all is well. Viewing approaching 70th with concern - remember Psalm 90, v.10? All depenmds what he meant by strong!!

Off next week to Scotland with the grandchildren, and 2 weeks later to a trip for a week on the Leeds & Liverpool canal. Should be a challenge. Avoiding London like the plague - it is manic with Jubilee celebrations and preparations. Road works all over the shop do not help.

Otherwise I suppose that no news is good news. There have been a lot of e-mails with anti-presidential jokes from the USA. None like the old ones, though, such as:

 Air Force One crashed in the middle of rural America. Panic stricken, the  Secret Service mobilised and descended on the farm in force. When they got there, the wreckage was clear. The aircraft was totally destroyed with only a burned hulk left smouldering in a tree line that bordered a farm.

 Secret Service descended upon the smoking hulk but could find no remains of the crew or the President's staff. To their amazement, a lone farmer was  ploughing a field not too far away as if nothing at all happened.

 They hurried over to surround the man's tractor.

 "Sir," the senior Secret Service agent asked, panting and out of breath, "did you see this terrible accident happen?"

 "Yep. Sure did," the man muttered unconcernedly.

 "Do you realise that is the U.S. President's aeroplane?"

 "Yep."

 "Were there any survivors?" the agent gasped.

 "Nope. They's all kilt straight out," the farmer sighed cutting off his tractor motor. "I done buried them all myself. Took most of the morning."

 "The President of the United States is DEAD?" The agent gulped in disbelief.

 "Well," the farmer sighed, obviously wanting to get back to his work. "He kept a-saying he wasn't ... but you know what a liar he is."

That will do for now. Hasta la vista.

CG

Here we go Gathering Nuts in May

It's Mayday. So you either go on a march, dance round a maypole (the earliest known form of pole-dancing) or go back on to the allotment and try to catch up with what you should have done, but could not because of the weather. Remember last month it was a drought? Now we have drought orders, hosepipe bans amnd flood warnings, all at the same time!

Heathwise it been ominously quite. We went to an 85th birthday party at Jersey - see picture above - which we survived. I am about to get back in the pool after a couple of months off. More holidays coming - five days in Scotland with the grandchildren - or at least 2 of them - and then a couple of weeks later we go on a cruise on the Leeds and Liverpool canal over the Pennines. For details go to http://www.ladyteal.co.uk/ - we have been on this boat before, and it is quite something. And I do not get lock-keeper's bottom pushing open the gates with my backside every 5 minutes!

Nice to get an e-mail from Ryhal Gallagher earlier in April. He seems to lost none of his edge.

Finally - English, Lesson One:

ENGLISH IS TOUGH STUFF

======================

Dearest creature in creation,

Study English pronunciation.

I will teach you in my verse

Sounds like corpse, corps, horse, and worse.

I will keep you, Suzy, busy,

Make your head with heat grow dizzy.

Tear in eye, your dress will tear.

So shall I! Oh hear my prayer.

Just compare heart, beard, and heard,

Dies and diet, lord and word,

Sword and sward, retain and Britain.

(Mind the latter, how it's written.)

Now I surely will not plague you

With such words as plaque and ague.

But be careful how you speak:

Say break and steak, but bleak and streak;

Cloven, oven, how and low,

Script, receipt, show, poem, and toe.

Hear me say, devoid of trickery,

Daughter, laughter, and Terpsichore,

Typhoid, measles, topsails, aisles,

Exiles, similes, and reviles;

Scholar, vicar, and cigar,

Solar, mica, war and far;

One, anemone, Balmoral,

Kitchen, lichen, laundry, laurel;

Gertrude, German, wind and mind,

Scene, Melpomene, mankind.

Billet does not rhyme with ballet,

Bouquet, wallet, mallet, chalet.

Blood and flood are not like food,

Nor is mould like should and would.

Viscous, viscount, load and broad,

Toward, to forward, to reward.

And your pronunciation's OK

When you correctly say croquet,

Rounded, wounded, grieve and sieve,

Friend and fiend, alive and live.

Ivy, privy, famous; clamour

And enamour rhyme with hammer.

River, rival, tomb, bomb, comb,

Doll and roll and some and home.

Stranger does not rhyme with anger,

Neither does devour with clangour.

Souls but foul, haunt but aunt,

Font, front, wont, want, grand, and grant,

Shoes, goes, does. Now first say finger,

And then singer, ginger, linger,

Real, zeal, mauve, gauze, gouge and gauge,

Marriage, foliage, mirage, and age.

Query does not rhyme with very,

Nor does fury sound like bury.

Dost, lost, post and doth, cloth, loth.

Job, nob, bosom, transom, oath.

Though the differences seem little,

We say actual but victual.

Refer does not rhyme with deafer.

Foeffer does, and zephyr, heifer.

Mint, pint, senate and sedate;

Dull, bull, and George ate late.

Scenic, Arabic, Pacific,

Science, conscience, scientific.

Liberty, library, heave and heaven,

Rachel, ache, moustache, eleven.

We say hallowed, but allowed,

People, leopard, towed, but vowed.

Mark the differences, moreover,

Between mover, cover, clover;

Leeches, breeches, wise, precise,

Chalice, but police and lice;

Camel, constable, unstable,

Principle, disciple, label.

Petal, panel, and canal,

Wait, surprise, plait, promise, pal.

Worm and storm, chaise, chaos, chair,

Senator, spectator, mayor.

Tour, but our and succour, four.

Gas, alas, and Arkansas.

Sea, idea, Korea, area,

Psalm, Maria, but malaria.

Youth, south, southern, cleanse and clean.

Doctrine, turpentine, marine.

Compare alien with Italian,

Dandelion and battalion.

Sally with ally, yea, ye,

Eye, I, ay, aye, whey, and key.

Say aver, but ever, fever,

Neither, leisure, skein, deceiver.

Heron, granary, canary.

Crevice and device and aerie.

Face, but preface, not efface.

Phlegm, phlegmatic, ass, glass, bass.

Large, but target, gin, give, verging,

Ought, out, joust and scour, scourging.

Ear, but earn and wear and tear

Do not rhyme with here but ere.

Seven is right, but so is even,

Hyphen, roughen, nephew Stephen,

Monkey, donkey, Turk and jerk,

Ask, grasp, wasp, and cork and work.

Pronunciation -- think of Psyche!

Is a paling stout and spikey?

Won't it make you lose your wits,

Writing groats and saying grits?

It's a dark abyss or tunnel:

Strewn with stones, stowed, solace, gunwale,

Islington and Isle of Wight,

Housewife, verdict and indict.

Finally, which rhymes with enough --

Though, through, plough, or dough, or cough?

Hiccough has the sound of cup.

My advice is to give up!!!

-- Author Unknown

Have a good one.

Drought!!

It is only the beginning of April, and half of the UK is under hosepipe bans. Standpipes are being cleaned and polished. Here in Bidborough the water pressure is very low at the best of times, as we are on top of a ridge, so we shall have to wait and see. When I started doing planning work as a young solicitor, the planning authority as a matter of course consulted water authorities as well as highways authorities and the other utilities as to whether they had the capacity to sustain the development proposed, but I now learn that the water authorities have been removed from the statutory list of consultees! Something wrong somewhere.

As soon as I got back from Cyprus I underwent a flare-up of the cellulitis, as promised. Once you have it you have it for life. So back on the anti-biotics. Fortunately we knew what it was and caught it in time, but it is clearly going to be a damn nuisance. However, back on track now, and doing all the things that I like doing - except that I still have difficulty in standing for long period of time. So propping up the bar in the local pub is no longer an option, and cocktail parties and the like are difficult. However, there is usually somewhere to prop myself up.

Planning to go to Jersey later this month for an 85th birthday party. The guy is still flying his own plane, too. It's all right for some, but I do admire him. Also planning to go to Scotland in May, and on the Leeds-Liverpool canal in June. That should be enough excitement.

More jokes needed - her is one sent courtesy of a friend in Cayman:

A tourist in Vienna is going through a graveyard and all of a sudden he hears music. No one is around, so he starts searching for the source.

He finally locates the origin and finds it is coming from a grave with a headstone that reads "Ludwig van Beethoven, 1770 -1827". Then he realizes that the music is the Ninth Symphony and it is being played backward!

Puzzled, he leaves the graveyard and persuades a friend to return with him. By the time they arrive back at the grave, the music has changed. This time it is the Seventh Symphony, but like the previous piece, it is being played backward.

Curious, the men agree to consult a music scholar. When they return with the expert, the Fifth Symphony is playing, again backward.

The expert notices that the symphonies are being played in the reverse order in which they were composed, the 9th, then the 7th, then the 5th.

By the next day the word has spread and a crowd has gathered around the grave. They are all listening to the Second Symphony being played backward.

Just then the graveyard's caretaker ambles up to the group.

Someone in the group asks him if he has an explanation for the music.

"I would have thought it was obvious," the caretaker says. "He's decomposing."

That's all folks!

Back from Cyprus

Here we are back in UK. When we left it was covered with snow. So we went to Cyprus for 3 weeks. Cyprus is just south of Turkey. For the last 3 weeks Turkey has been covered by a massive depression, and has also been covered with snow from its northern borders to the south coast! Cyprus escaped the snow, and we had some wonderful sunny days, but it has been the coldest winter in Cyprus for over 100 years, or so they kept telling up. But it is a country with very cheap wine that has come a long way since the days of Emva Cream sherry.

We stayed at a first class resort called Columbia Beach Resort. Highly recommended to anyone who values good efficient German service (it is German owned) tempered with Greek attitude. Everything worked, but there were no compulsory exercises every morning.

One of the effects of the stay was that I am now climbing up and down stairs with great ease, as we had an upstairs suite, and I must have climbed the stairs at least ten times a day. Very effective physio.

Having been away for at least 3 weeks, ther is not a lot of news. But I can leave you with a couple of lines from a Cayman correspondent:

How Attaturk solved the Burqa problem.

For those struggling to ban women from wearing Burqa in their countries, Mustafa Kamal, who has a nickname of "Attaturk" and who is the founder of modern Turkey, resolved the problem in a very wise way.

He issued the following decree:

"With immediate effect, all Turkish women are privileged to wear whatever they choose, however, all prostitutes must wear a Burqa.

The very next day, no woman in Turkey was seen in a Burqa. Voila!

Have a Good One!!

A Pinch and a Punch on the first day of the month!

It's the 1/2 and very cold. Walking is getting easier as the days pass, but more difficult as the temperature falls. But we get up to London quite often - usually to a play, although we did go last week to Chinatown on New Year's Eve (Chinese) to see the dragons dance and the drummers drumming. All good stuff.

Good to see CDJ putting the boot in to Lord Ashcroft on Panorama the night before last. I expect to hear that he has received a letter from m'learned friends, Messes Sue, Grabbit and Runne shortly.

Later on we shall be going to Cyprus, DV, for a bit of sunshine. I could do with that. At the end of working in the tropics I used to have quite a decent tan, as in the strong sunlight your skin tans under a shirt, but now I am the same colour as my shirts!

I heard from a chap in Cayman the other day:

Read slowly to figure this one.....got it?...well great, but how can one poor fellow arrive in this predicament?

A story about a Jamaican man . . . a story that only happens in Jamaica. . . as he writes:

A went wid mi fasness go get marrid to a widow who had a daughtah dat was big already.

As ting will happen, mi fahdda fall in love wid mi new stepdaughtah an dem get married .


Derefore: Mi fahdda ah now mi son-in-law, while at di same time mi step
daughta a now mi step maddah.

But dat aint all. In di meantime, mi wife get pregnant an' had mi son - mi son who now turn out to be mi fadda breddah-in-law an also mi own uncle 'cause he is di breddah of mi step-mahddah who is also mi step daughtah. Dis is where tings turn raht*id mad.

Mi fahddah wife now hav a son who is technically mi breddah but is really mi gran-son . . .

Derefore: mi wife is mi granmaddah cause she is mi step-Maddah Maddah.

So now I-man is mi wife husban an gran-pickney at di same time! An being a husban of a gran-maddah mek me ah gran-fahddah. So now I en up being mi own granfahddah...

Lawd, what a ra*s mix up!

And that is about that for this month.