Moving from France to Ferrets

And now for something a bit different

2012-03-13T07:00:00.000Z

I'm not just old jokes you know. Saw this yesterday and felt the need to share.

Blond joke

2012-03-12T11:09:00.000Z

An attractive blonde from Cork, Ireland, arrived at the casino. She seemed a little intoxicated and bet twenty thousand dollars in a single roll of the dice.

She said, "I hope you don't mind, but I feel much luckier when I'm
completely nude." with that, she stripped from the neck down, rolled the dice and with an Irish brogue yelled, "Come on, baby, Mama needs new clothes!"

As the dice came to a stop, she jumped up and down and squealed. "Yes! Yes! I won, I won!" She hugged each of the dealers, picked up her winnings and her clothes and quickly departed.

The dealers stared at each other dumbfounded. Finally, one of them asked, "What did she roll?" The other answered, "I don't know - I thought you were watching."

And the moral of the story?

Not all Irish are drunks, not all blondes are dumb, ..... but all men...are men!

And boys did you notice that the girl above isn't blond?

An error of judgement

2012-03-09T15:07:00.000Z

You sometimes hear about male terrorists escaping detection by disguising themselves with a burqa. Somebody needs to sit this guy down and have a good talk to him.

Farts smell better in France

2012-03-08T16:07:00.000Z

We've been back in Blighty a year now and I have to say that we're pleased with the move.
Ripon is a lovely little market town with all the shops (many of them really good) that we need for day to day living and a great little market once a week.
The quality of produce in the market is very good and, as you would expect, at prices less than the supermarkets. Not something we experienced in France which always surprised me. The quality of produce in the French market we frequented was always superior to the supermarket but at prices to match. In fact we found food shopping in France, with the exception of Lidl, to be relatively expensive. When we first arrived, prices were quite good but they increased quite a bit during the 8+ years that we were there.
It beats me how French people can afford to shop given that salaries are not high, but they do, and the markets and supermarkets were always well supported. Not that shopping isn't good in England, it is and it's cheaper. In French stores fruit and veg were always very good and I guessed that France got first pick of Spanish fruit and veg.
I have to say that I really miss Lidl in Sommieres, the one near us in Knaresborough isn't half as good mainly because it doesn't have three aisles of cheap but good quality stuff you never knew you needed.
Whilst we have familiarity with England what has really surprised us is the number of days we wake to sunshine, even though it might not last the whole day.
Our English neighbours in France warned us that we were making a big mistake going back to England, especially with the weather (they live in Lancashire very near the west coast). So far we've been very pleasantly surprised. If you only visit France when the weather is good then you'll get a biased view.
When we first arrived in France what really surprised us was how cold it was at night in winter. I guess that it had something to do with the days being clear and sunny. It was much colder than we have experienced so far here and much colder than we expected.
Not for one second would I attempt to dispute that overall the weather in the south of France is better than it is in the UK but bearing in mind that I am only talking about one particular area, it isn't the bed of roses that one might believe.
If I was to summarise the difference I'd say that the weather in France is more extreme. Hotter when it's hot, colder when it's cold and much, much windier than you might expect, but when it's nice, it's very, very nice.
And the moral of the story - the grass is always greener - but we all knew that didn't we?

Confused of Kazakhstan

2012-03-06T11:11:00.001Z

First you have to listen to the delicious Ricky Martin below. I love this type of music and I defy you not to tap your feet as it plays. Try it.
When you've done that, click on this link. Seems that someone got a bit confused.
Thanks to Craig for this.

Mad Men

2012-03-05T11:31:00.000Z

We're hooked.
Some time ago my mate AJ suggested that we watch Mad Men. As he's a man of superb taste we followed his advice and Jan bought me the box set for christmas.
What a find. We can't get enough, it has become totally addictive. It reminds me of my previous business life and the office shenanigans. There are some great characters with the lovely Christina Hendricks right out there in front (if you get my drift).
Having just finished series 3 and just started on series 4 we're looking forward to the new series which starts later this month. Recommended.

Cloning

2012-03-02T11:04:00.000Z

We've been cloned. Well, more specifically, Jan has had her French bank card cloned and someone has used it to place bets with a company in France. As it stands we are 1700 euros down the pan.
Anyway, after discussions with Credit Agricole in Nimes, I was told that after a bit of form filling and a report from the police in England, the fraud could be passed to their investigation unit in Paris.
Off I went to our local nick, this was going to be the easy bit, only to be informed that they couldn't issue an incident number because it wasn't a crime that they could or would investigate. After all, the fraud had happened in France they said.
They gave me a tiny slip of paper that showed the name and collar number of the person to whom I spoke which looked fairly meaningless and which I knew would be unlikely to satisfy French bureaucracy. I was right.
'Can't they put a stamp on it to make it look more official,' they said.
I could see where this was going so I drafted a simple letter which I thought the police could photocopy onto police headed paper and set off in hope.
'No can do,' said the desk policeman, 'we don't even issue anything to help insurance claims in England, only if it's a crime that we will investigate.'
After a bit of pleading and brown nosing he said, more to get rid of me than anything else, 'I'll go to a higher authority and see what happens. But don't raise your hopes.'
Not very hopeful of a successful outcome we discussed making a trip to Nimes to report the fraud to the police in France. When all was said and done 1700 euros was at stake.
Anyway, one hour after we got home I was emailed an excellent letter on Police headed paper which referred to having reported the fraud and that it wasn't their policy to supply anything further. Brilliant. All the proof that I needed given the circumstances, they understood exactly what I needed.
Result.

Something a little different

2012-03-01T16:54:00.001Z

We went out for a curry last night.
In order to try something a bit different I tried a pelican curry.
It wasn't too spicy but the bill was enormous!

A good day

2012-02-27T09:56:00.000Z

What a good day. Jan had bought me tickets, for my birthday, to see Reginald D Hunter and his nearest performance was in Middlesbrough.

A bit of a hike but no big deal.
This was also going to be a trip down memory lane for Jan because as a very young child she had spent holidays in the leafy suburbs of Middlesbrough (and for those that have never been there, that's a joke!) and the nearby coast.
In order to make the most of the trip we headed over the North Yorkshire Moors to Whitby. Whitby, apart from being a beautiful little seaside town, has, for me, the unique distinction of being the only place I have ever found Tiger Nuts, a regular schoolboy snack when I was young, but I digress.
It was going to be a perfect, sunny ride in the countryside. Excellent. As we were going to be in Whitby around lunch time, we headed for The Magpie Café down by the harbour. Fresh fish doesn't get fresher! Fish and chips for Sunday lunch hasn't been part of our normal behaviour but as this restaurant has a very good reputation we had to give it a go (I think we'd eaten there before but whether it was a dream or we'd actually done it I couldn't remember). Anyway this was a good opportunity to measure it up against our own favourite fish and chip shop in Wetherby. Jan, who thinks that she is a tad posher than me, wouldn't just buy and eat the fish and chips from the takeaway so we had to sit and eat in the resto. After the mandatory queue (about twenty minutes) we got seated. We both agreed the fish and chips were good but The Wetherby Whaler, which is only a short ride from Ripon, had the edge and also had the added bonus of shaving a couple of hours off the journey.
As we ambled back from the resto to where we'd parked the car we passed a small boat offering quick trips out to sea. Me, I'm not a good sailor but Jan quickly agreed to my offer so matelots we became for the next 30 minutes.
After our seafaring adventure (I know how to show a girl a good time), we headed (by car) up the coast through Saltburn and Redcar and after a quick trip into down town Middlesbrough we sat and read the Sunday's at the side of the town hall. Grand Touring just doesn't get better than this.
When I decided that I wanted a cup of tea I said to Jan, 'where the hell are we going to get a cup of tea at 5.30 pm on a Sunday in the middle of Middlesbrough?'
I scoffed at her when she suggested Starbucks. The Middlesbrough that I knew of old wouldn't have a Starbucks (I have subsequently checked and it does, which only goes to show how out of touch I've become).
Having put on our stab vests and helmets, we set off on foot to find a cup of tea and there it was, The Central Bar just minutes from where we were parked. Jan, who is a bit posh (have I mentioned that before?), wasn't sure. I thought the bouncers looked friendly enough and as I wasn't in the mood to risk life and limb walking through the middle of Middlesbrough any more, in we went. What a good idea.
I asked the very attractive bar maid if they sold tea or coffee. She looked at me as if I'd just landed from Mars. We don't get asked for that very often she said in her near unintelligible lilt but sit yourselves down over there and I'll go make it for you pet. Northern hospitality at its best.
As I slowly acclimatised to the overpowering, pulsating beat of the music I realised that the end of the League Cup Final was playing on all the tv screens around the bar. It was the gods offering me a little reward for being such a good bloke. The fact that the match went to extra time was even better and filled the time beautifully until it became time to set off to see the show.
Reg Hunter was interesting and funny after you had acclimatised to his deep south Georgia drawl but a show not for anyone of a squeamish disposition.

They're at it again

2012-02-24T11:58:00.002Z

Another dodgy whiplash claim?

An alternative view

2012-02-22T09:15:00.001Z

I'm surprised that no one has mentioned the state of the Parthenon.
No wonder Greece is in such a mess, they can't even maintain their public buildings.
As you can see from the recent picture above the roof needs fixing and all the rubble cleared from the surrounding area. I hope they use some of the 130 billion euros they've just been given to get it fixed up. It's a disgrace.

Water, water everywhere

2012-02-21T07:00:00.000Z

Reading this yesterday made me question why the good folks of the north should have to put up with so much rain in order to ship it down south.
If you want a lot of water move to Lancashire or if you want even more then move to Scotland!

Puzzled

2012-02-20T13:43:00.000Z

I'll try and say this sensitively.
I have a big problem listening to all the hype over Whitney Houston's death and burial.
She had a good voice, she sang some good songs but why is there so much media bullshit over what was a very flawed person. The headline should have read "Drug Addict with Good Voice, Dies."
She squandered a huge talent and the millions that people paid to listen to her. I'm not biased, I paid to see her in concert many years ago at Wembley Arena.
I suspect that there are lots of drug addicts with good voices and I suspect that there are lots of non drug users with brilliant voices. Why aren't they celebrated?
I realise that this is a massive over simplification but you get my point.

It's where?

2012-02-17T19:34:00.001Z

About once a week we call in on my mother and either make or take her for lunch. Today we went to Fodders just outside Harrogate. It's a shop (delicatessen) and restaurant that specialises in Yorkshire food and very good it is too. Though I struggle to understand where Arborio rice, Maille mustard, Manchego cheese and a host of other foreign stuff fits into a Yorkshire theme.
Anyway, there's always a queue to get into the restaurant and the group in front had been waiting for a long time. Several other groups had been seated before them. It was half term so there were lots of families and this one was particularly big.
As we were being seated (before them), I said to one of the fathers, "I bet it wasn't your idea to try and get a table for eleven at half term?"
He smiled, rolled his eyes and agreed.
The food and service are always good and Jan wanted a glass of wine with her meal and I noticed that they had Yorkshire wine by the glass (I kid you not) and patriotically decided to try it. Big mistake! They make lots of good things in God's own country but wine isn't one of them.
We weren't surprised when mum preferred what we were eating over her own choice. She always does. I had a huge, manly steak sandwich and mum looked envious despite the fact that I knew she wouldn't be able to chew it properly.
I always know when she's not completely happy because she said that the next time we'd eat elsewhere.
She suggested the Tiger Inn near Knaresborough, not one we'd been to before.
"Where is it mum?" I said.
"I can't remember," she said, "it's either on the Ripon Road or the York Road and then you turn left."
"That narrows it down to about 100 square miles," I said unhelpfully "but we'll check it out and go there next time."
Such a helpful, loving son!

Listen you..............

2012-02-16T07:30:00.000Z

Dealing with Greece is like dealing with a recalcitrant teenager.
This is the story so far. Eurozone chiefs (mum and dad) say to Greek political parties (child), in order to get your 130 Billion (pocket money) you have to agree to do this that and the other.
Given that there will be new elections next year, we want all political parties to sign here (give me your solemn word) so that there will be no deviation at a later date. If you fail to honour this agreement then no further bailout (pocket money) will be advanced. Amongst the conditions that we have agreed is that you will start to collect tax from your citizens and industry (get a paper round) and stop telling lies (or you will get sent to your room). If your behaviour improves in the future you can expect to receive your next tranche of bailout money (pocket money). The decision is yours, go away and think about it.
The country has a choice between economic ruin and (shock horror) collecting taxes. It needs to join the real world and needs to stop lying to the world and its mother.
I know what I would do.

The Day Before You Came

2012-02-15T12:30:00.001Z

It was Craig who put me onto this and I play it from time to time cos it makes me feel good. Jan usually sings it to me each morning as a kind of tribute.
Love the video and reminds you about how attractive Agnetha was but not sure about the pyjama cord around the head. Play it loud.

Raymond Blanc

2012-02-15T08:14:00.000Z

Always interested in foody stuff we started to watch the new Raymond Blanc series last week.
He's back in his home region France Comte visiting his mum, admiring her cooking skills and heaping praise on his grandmother who was even more talented, and cooking a special meal for locals at a resto nearby. So far so good.
He did however wax lyrical about local produce like potatoes (they're potatoes for heavens sake), vegetables and in particular Morteau sausage. I really like Morteau sausage, Jan makes a fabulous dish combing the sausage and spicy lentils but, for crying out loud, it's a bloody sausage.
Raymond sang its praises, fondled it in some erotic fashion, and looked like he would marry one given half a chance.
It's been a long time since I've tasted it, but the wine from the region Vin Jaune is, in my opinion, bloody awful. It tastes like a kind of sherry. Avoid at all costs.
The only ingredient that I can honestly say that I really like from the same area is Comte cheese. A good one is really good. So there you have it, one of the best and most expensive chefs in England, popping home to his native region and waxing lyrical about sherry and sausage.
I felt as underwhelmed as the 30 or so people looked that he cooked his special meal for.
Since then we've watched the second programme and that was more of the same. More waxing lyrical about produce in Burgundy and yet again cooking an uninteresting meal.
I wonder what he'll do in Languedoc, assuming he ever gets there. 5/10

Get a life

2012-02-14T09:45:00.000Z

Every year I rabbit on about the 'film award ceremonies' and the arse lickin' media who hype it all up. This article by Dominic Lawson summed it up nicely for me.

I suspect that nothing will change in the short term but it's good to have a rant about it all once a year.

The place to be

2012-02-13T10:29:00.001Z

This photo of Ripon is courtesy of TripAdvisor

I'd love to say that we planned it, for us things don't really work out that way, but here's further proof that Ripon is the place to be.
I must add a rider in that I usually hate the 50 best lists of anything but this one has a ring of truth.
Take a look at this. In a list of of the 50 Best Cheap Eats in the UK, according to the Independent, there are two mentioned in Ripon. We've eaten at one of them and will now try the other and I could add one or two more. It's probably because, amongst the landed gentry in this area (don't forget that Downton Abbey was set here), there are lots of skint foodies floating around but there you go.
Guess which category we fit into?

Wad'ya say?

2012-02-12T08:47:00.000Z

There has been a lot of discussion recently about Fabio Capello and his performance as England manager.
Despite the fact that he has the best win rate of any England manager including Alf Ramsey, he was criticize for his poor command of the English language.
In the run up to the game between Man U and Liverpool on Saturday, Sky interviewed both Alex Ferguson and Kenny Dalglish, the respective team managers, and whilst watching this it occurred to me that being able to speak coherent English is definitely not a prerequisite for being a successful football manager.
The managers were both asked a series of questions which I had no problem understanding. So far so good. Both managers replied in what I can only describe as unintelligible drivel.
It wasn't an English that I could understand. I'm not sure if coming from Glasgow is a good grounding for a successful command of the English language (in fact I'm certain that it isn't) but fair to say that anyone who criticizes Capello should also be criticizing the aforementioned club managers.
Frankly it was awful and makes you wonder why anybody would want to interview them.

A culinary tip

2012-02-10T11:00:00.000Z

Just when you thought you knew everything.
I find myself constantly improving Jan's cooking techniques but do I get any thanks?

Thanks to Will for this.

A night out

2012-02-09T07:00:00.000Z

That's the last time that I allow Jan to book theatre tickets.
We went to see Chris Addison the other night at the Harrogate Theatre.
'We have to get there early because we have to pick up the tickets,' I was reliably informed. We arrived to pick up the tickets only to find that they didn't have them. After a check through all the options we were asked if they had been booked with 'See' tickets.
'Sounds good,' said the sage of Ripon, so the box office kindly checked with the company and printed out our tickets. So far so goodish.
Anyway we eventually found our seats but only after a long walk. Just to say that I've never climbed so high in a theatre before.
The 'Balcony' is not good, it is bad. It's so high you get a perfect view of any performer's bald spot.
Each seat comes with an individual oxygen supply and a box of tissues for the inevitable nose bleed. The seat are not numbered, as a tribute, they are named after all the people who have climbed Everest.
And then to add insult to injury Chris Addison came onto the stage and pointed up at us and said, "you poor sods have paid the same price as all these people down here in the comfortable seats."
So bloody funny.

Lazy Cow Syndrome

2012-02-08T18:47:00.002Z

This is doing the rounds and forgive me if you've seen it but I think it's very funny.

Scotch broth

2012-02-07T07:00:00.000Z

When we were in France I turned into a real scruff. Shorts, t-shirts and unshaven was the order of the day. I revelled in it.
I haven't quite figured out why but things are a little different here. Smarter is 'in'.
Anyway, we were in Booths today and I was at the butcher's counter. Jan makes a fabulous lamb soup (Scotch broth) and I asked the butcher for some cheap lamb cuts to make it. Maybe I was looking poor and dishevelled or maybe it was Jan but he, Vic, took pity on us and gave us a load of lamb. Free, gratis and for nothing.
Then, when we felt guilty and tried to buy some stuff, he went out of his way to make sure that what we bought was at a discount.
There are probably those amongst you who think it smart to dress up and look down on us poor, scruffy unfortunates but let me tell you that scruffy has its advantages. If you're feeling hungry, like lamb and are prepared to risk a touch of salmonella, go see Vic (my new best friend) in Booths Ripon. He's your main man (and my new best friend).

That's a bit strong

2012-02-06T11:30:00.000Z

Moving from Hampshire to Hertfordshire the other day and in particular from the M25 up the A41 to Hemel Hempstead we were amazed at the amount of rubbish by the side of the road. The rubbish extended for miles. The amount of rubbish was unbelievable. It was horrendous. Why with so many unemployed are the roads so bad? It can't be beyond the wit of man to marry the two issues.
Anyway, the next day we travelled home up the M1. Having done this journey for many years and because it always used to be my half way stop when travelling North we decided to stop at Leicester Forest East services.
I wondered how it had changed over the years. It didn't have a Marks and Spencer but it did have a Waitrose however we didn't need sandwiches because we had already decided to stop for fish and chips in Wetherby but a pee and a coffee were on the agenda.
The coffee was good but as I entered the toilets I was serenaded by Phil Collins welcoming me to 'another day in paradise'.
Better than it used to be Phil but not really paradise!

Seeking Salvation

2012-02-04T07:00:00.000Z

I'm a big believer in charity work and try to do as much as I can, but it all came to a head last Christmas when I got sacked from the Salvation Army soup kitchen.
All I said was, 'hurry up you lot, some of us have got homes to go to!'

Twit or twat

2012-02-03T14:30:00.000Z

I don't mind swearing. Others do, but not me.
For me it provides another form of expression, something a bit edgy, something that allows a release. It's just a word or words, nobody gets physically injured and you either take offence or you don't.
Anyway, we were in the car the other day and the driver in front did something dangerous.
"What a twit," said Jan.
"Whoa," said I, "he's not a twit, he's a twat."
Jan looked at me with disbelief, so I had to explain the difference.
"A twit is someone who is harmless and does silly things that basically don't offend anybody. A twat is altogether a more unpleasant character."
I love language and we English have so many words, many more than any other language, to express ourselves.
The thing I dislike more than swearing is inventing stupid words. Take the word poo. It has come into common usage as a more genteel way of saying excrement or faeces or crap or shit (but then you knew that). We've already got lots of words for it so why invent another? And, to me, it isn't more genteel or acceptable because it means exactly the same thing. It's a word that you usually associate with talking to a young child.
That's another thing I dislike, talking to young children as if they're imbeciles. Someone we know when talking to their young children says 'juicy' instead of 'juice'. Hmmmm.
These kids are now quite capable of understanding the world as it should be spoke. Geddit?

Hampshire from Hampshire

2012-01-31T08:56:00.000Z

We're down in Hampshire at the moment visiting Jan's family.
Eating when you're on the road is an interesting challenge especially when you are used to salads and stuff like that.
The motorway services aren't too bad and in particular yours truly is always on the lookout for an M&S shop so that I can stuff one of their New York Deli Pastrami and Rye into my petite mouth (stop, I'll choke - Ed). We didn't have much luck on the way down because we stayed off the motorways but when we got to Alton we headed into town and raided M&S.
After a lovely fresh prawn salad we spoilt the healthy effect by eating several 'yum yum' donuts. Excellent.

To queen or not to queen

2012-01-30T07:00:00.000Z

I like the queen and as a result deem myself a monarchist.
In my opinion she has performed her duties as head of state with total dedication and without compromise. But before you disagree think for a minute or two about the merits of President Clinton or President Sarkozy. Do I have some complaints, well a few, but not enough to say that overall she doesn't do a good job.
My main complaint is that she doesn't have Windsor castle illuminated at night, other than for official functions. As an ex Windsor resident I can't tell you how magnificent it looked when it was lit up as you drove down the M4. It made you feel warm and proud at the same time. It is one of our few grand, national monuments and should be illuminated at all times. Bloody hell, Ripon Cathedral is illuminated at night thanks to private sponsorship so why not Windsor castle (I must admit the thought of seeing the Kwik Fit logo splashed up the side of the castle does make me smile)?
But I digress, back to the monarchy. Seems like Brenda does everything that is asked of her and will do so until the day she dies. That's pretty damn good in my book.
What I fear most is Prince Charles taking over the throne. I know nothing about the man other than to see him ponce around in antiquated clothing and talking like a total tosser in a most unnatural and affected way. He's roughly the same age as me but, according to Jan (an avowed republican), I at least look and sound normal (she's not right about everything you know - Ed).

The old pilot

2012-01-27T12:25:00.001Z

Anold Marine Pilot sat down in a Starbucks, still wearing his old USMC flight suitand leather jacket and ordered a cup of coffee.

As he sat sippinghis coffee, a young woman sat down next to him. She turned to thepilot and asked, “Are you a real pilot?”

He replied,“Well, I've spent my whole life flying planes, first it was Stearmans, then theearly Grummans, flew a Wildcat and Corsair in WWII, and later in the Koreanconflict, Banshees and Cougars.

I'vetaught more than 260 people to fly and given rides to hundreds, so I guessI am a pilot, and you, what are you?”

“I'm a lesbian,she said. “I spend my whole day thinking about naked women. As soon as Iget up in the morning, I think about naked women. When I shower, I think aboutnaked women. When I watch TV, I think about naked women. It seems like everythingmakes me think about naked women.”

The twosat sipping in silence.

A little whilelater, a young man sat down on the other side of the old pilot and asked,"Are you a real pilot?"

“Always thought Iwas,” he replied, “but I just found out that I'm a lesbian.”

Confused people

2012-01-26T14:35:00.000Z

When Jan asked me what I wanted for breakfast yesterday she produced a bacon sandwich. This reminded me that if I was to become a vegetarian, bacon would be the one thing that I would sorely miss.
Which then led me to consider the unlikely and contradictory vegetarian haggis. A haggis for people that aren't really vegetarians?
Why do some veggie dishes have to imitate meat products? What's wrong with inventing your own concoctions and stop pretending that they're a meat substitute. How stupid is that?
It's almost as stupid as an Indian chef mixing both a Scottish and an Indian anniversary, because he's a bit short of publicity, and coming up with a ScottIndian dish. Strange.
And, before I get inundated with death threats from the knit your own yoghurt brigade, I like and enjoy vegetable only dishes. My son used to be vegetarian (now eats fish) and Jan cooked lots of really tasty and interesting vegetable only dishes. Excellent.

On the road to Damascus

2012-01-25T07:00:00.000Z

We're having an ~~expensive~~ excellent lunch at The Malt Shovel with my mother and I was looking at Jan with my reading glasses perched on the end of my nose.
"You have a spurious look of intelligence," she said.
Given that we were celebrating my upcoming birthday I thought that, no matter how true, it was a rather cutting remark. But not being one to take offence too easily we chatted about others that share my birth date.
The thing that winds me up the most, that gets my goat, is having to 'share' it with Robbie Bloody Burns. A so called Scottish poet that writes unintelligible drivel, who nobody in England has ever studied (because it's rubbish) but which lots of English seem happy to celebrate with Scottish exiles wherever they are. The haggis, the piper, the toast, it's all total bollocks and has got nothing whatsoever to do with English people.
Anyway, apropos of nothing, my mother interrupted my rant by reminding anyone who would listen (which wasn't many) that it was also a celebration of the Conversion of St Paul. As my mother is rather elderly and I haven't had the heart to mention that I'd converted to atheism, I bit my tongue, avoided a rant, (I thought at that stage that she might be going to pay for lunch) but couldn't resist a "what's that got to do with anything," comment?
I'm not paranoid but it seems like the whole world is against me.

Max

2012-01-24T15:32:00.001Z

Just when you thought that there isn't much news, I'm pleased to say that it's Max's birthday today.
He's eight years old, but how does he celebrate it? By waking us at 4.00 in the morning for absolutely no reason that we could fathom. He seemed a bit agitated but as Max is usually very 'cool', nothing seems to bother him, we sat with him for half an hour, until he settled, and then we all went back to bed.

A great start to the day, thanks Max.

Padding

2012-01-23T11:10:00.000Z

What is it about Sunday night television that it has to be stuffed with 'costume drama'? Last night we got a double dose.
In an effort to show Jan that I'm not a complete moron and as a modern person I would like to show an interest in stuff that she likes, I made a concious decision to ~~struggle through~~ watch.
First Midwife, which I thought might be good and frankly it wasn't bad but boy did it go on too long. This was a thirty minute programme at best and as it dragged on I got very restless and finally left the room. Failed.
The next programme, Bird Song, was set during the first war and I thought it was actually quite good but again it went on too long. The cinematography, costumes and acting were all good, at least to my taste, but it was a max 60 minute programme but actually extended to about 90. I guess the schedulers have time to fill but they are in great danger of putting people off when there is so much padding (long periods of people staring into space). Didn't leave the room so passed.
It seems like others share my view. Take a look at this and then also look at the comments, some of them are hilarious.

QED

2012-01-22T11:53:00.000Z

I'm probably a little slow (Er, yes - Ed) but I've just realised something.
I have long thought that speed cameras in France were more about revenue gathering than a safety measure.
I once was fined 90 euros for travelling at 35 in a 30 zone. I broke the speed limit, my fault so no complaint. What I objected to was the size of the fine for a relatively minor offence. It seemed to me to be totally disproportionate to the offence.
Looking at an email from Tom Tom this morning reminded me that French authorities were against sat navs that show speed cameras and either will or have banned them. To me this doesn't make sense and is also in contrast to the English viewpoint that being aware of a speed camera should make you slow down.
Anyway, you can probably see where I'm going here, if you combine the thought that French speed cameras are largely for revenue gathering and combine that with French police opposition to you being aware of them, then one sort of confirms the other.
On the other hand I could just be a grumpy old offender.

Self aware

2012-01-21T07:00:00.000Z

So we're in Harrogate, walking along Cambridge Street, heading for M&S (cos we've already been to Lakeland) when Jan disappears.
How does she do that?
I didn't immediately notice that she'd gone but when I finally realised that I was talking to myself, I followed her in.
"This is nice," she said, whilst fondling what I have to admit was rather a nice jumper. Her radar must have been working overtime. How the hell did she see it, hidden well inside the store, whilst walking past the front door? Amazing.
Anyway, she decides she's going to buy one but finds that all the sizes are way too small.
"What the hell did you expect?" I said, "this is Miss Bloody Selfridge, "when was the last time you were known as Miss?"
Not to be outdone she said, "Well, there are loads of fat girls around, they might have had my size."
I had to laugh.

Homeopathy

2012-01-20T13:33:00.002Z

Fancy a giggle?

What's a Greek urn?

2012-01-20T07:00:00.000Z

The more you read about Greece and its problems the more you realise what an unholy mess they are in. The country, population and government, are institutionally incapable of telling the truth or balancing their books.
Whilst there is probably a requirement to discount some of the more far fetched stuff, some of what I've read has made me realise that their problems cannot be solved overnight and in my opinion will take several generations to solve if indeed they are solvable at all.
The government lied to the EU in order to get into the euro-zone (to access cheap money) and coincidently one of the men that did this is currently trying to get the country back on track. Hmmmm.
Governments over the ages have made no attempt to solve the problem of endemic fraud from its businesses or citizens. No one pays the correct level of tax. No one.
Benefit fraud is rife. According to a government minister, the level of disability payments would make sense only "if Greece had fought in the Vietnam War."
It was reported that there is an area in Greece that has the highest number of Porsche cars registered. The same area has no one claiming to earn more than €35k.
As I understand it, in order to get the next tranche of EU money they have to convince the next round of bondholders to write off 50% of what they are owed and take 35% in new bonds. This means that in practice they will get 15% of what they are owed.
This has to be agreed before the EU will pump in more money. WHY WOULD THEY DO THAT?

Romanzo Criminale

2012-01-19T07:00:00.000Z

If you are like Jean and neither watch TV nor read the newspapers, or are too poor to have Sky TV, then the next bit of information will be of no interest to you whatsoever.
We've been watching an excellent series on Sky Arts called Romanzo Criminale. A story set in 70s Rome depicting the rise of a criminal group from teenagers through to adults. It reminded us both of an Italian version of The Wire with a bit of The Sopranos thrown into the mix. What makes it even better is that there are no adverts. In fact all the best series we have watched of late have been on Sky which frankly has come as a bit of a surprise.
Excellent.

Naughty mockers

2012-01-18T20:20:00.004Z

Mock us Yorkshire folk no more. Take a look at this.

You made my day, week, month..........

2012-01-18T07:00:00.000Z

What a great day yesterday was. First I was given a blog award by the very intelligent, good looking and perspicacious Jean from this blog. A beautifully written piece if I may say so.
She totally misunderstands me when she emailed, "I'm not sure if you're the kind of bloke who goes in for this sort of thing......" Jean, I accept all awards with great humility and maximum fanfare, that's the sort of bloke I am. I have to say that I was slightly disappointed that the award didn't come with something I could put in my somewhat bare trophy cabinet or even a monetary value but I accept your kind and wonderful gesture with very many thanks.
Given the chance I'd give you one too (but others might have something to say about that.) All I've got to do is figure out how to place the 'trophy' on this site and find another five blogs to pass it on to but I promise I'll work on that.
Later in the day I was in Boots (the Chemist), quite a big Boots by Ripon standards (the only Boots in Ripon - Ed), and the lovely Susan behind the dispensing counter, after I had said, "I've come for the medicine for Hampshire," said, without reference to any notes, "is that Alex Hampshire?"
Bloody hell, I'm even known in Boots the Chemist. Real fame at last. World and local fame at its best.
Jan, who already knew about the morning award was heard to groan and mutter, "Bloody hell, there'll be no stopping him now."
I promise that celebrity won't spoil me much. Where's me limo?

How to swing

2012-01-17T07:00:00.000Z

This woman is 51 years old, is a TV health guru and advocates a holistic approach to nutrition and health. She promotes a vegetarian diet high in organic fruits and vegetables. She recommends detox diets, colonic irrigation and supplements.

This woman is also 51, a TV cook, licks her fingers and she eats meat, butter and desserts and washes it all down with wine. Which way to go?

Internet or not

2012-01-16T14:00:00.001Z

We've been without internet for most of today which isunusual because we’ve had very good uptime since we’ve been here but it comesas a bit of a blow because the study is my refuge from the hurly burly of lifeand in particular from Jan’s never ending list of instructions.

Having workedlong hours over the weekend, getting up in the dark and cold, and getting towork before you’ve even had time to eat your crumpets in bed, the sometimes real/unrealworld of the internet is a welcome respite.

I reported the problem to myservice provider and some nice chap in India talked me through a list of thingsto check, all of which I’d already tried. Promising to check the line, withinthe hour he called back and told me that there was a ‘network problem’ (thebleeding obvious) and that their engineers were on the case.

So now we wait.

Not again

2012-01-14T07:00:00.000Z

Women are never satisfied.
When we were in France Jan bought this range type hob and oven. It had one very big oven, big enough to roast an ostrich, which was a pity because we never roasted ostriches. In fact we hardly ever roasted anything mainly because it was too hot and also because Jan's first excuse when putting food on the table was that it was over cooked on the bottom because the oven cooked from the bottom up.
I never quite figured that one out but couldn't be bothered to argue about it cos what would I know, I'm only a bloke.
Anyway, she now has a similar size range but this time with two ovens. She has always wanted two ovens, presumably because she can cook twice as many ostriches as long as you like them cooked from the bottom up.
Not for the first time, yesterday I was sitting eating my roast breast of ostrich and asked her highness what was still cooking. Nothing dumbo (or similar) was her reply.
Unable to contain my curiosity and also being the kind of bloke who learns from his mistakes I forayed into the kitchen to find one of the ovens burning merrily away. I say this because this was not the first time.
Us men might be inferior creatures but generally speaking we (OK me) have a tendency to learn from our mistakes and not keep repeating the same thing over and over. I'd have thought that the stench of carbonising ostrich fat would also have been a clue but again I'm only a bloke.
The situation has now got to the point of me now not saying, good morning, as we wake each morning, but have you turned the oven off.
She doesn't like that.

Broadcast on behalf of The Labour Party

2012-01-13T07:00:00.000Z

The return of old friends

2012-01-12T07:00:00.000Z

As we walked into Booths there they were. Hot cross buns.
I love hot cross buns. Hot cross buns smothered in creamy butter.
So now I'm a happy bunny, which is somewhat appropriate because hot cross buns only come out at Easter.
Bloody hell, it's still not half way through January and they're selling Easter stuff and sure enough, as we approached the sweetie aisle, they're selling chocolate eggs.
Over Christmas the sweeties had been moved somewhere else, to make room for more appropriate Christmas fayre. I love sweeties and have to have a bag in the car, so it was good to see them being put back into their rightful position. I was so pleased to see them that I thanked the ladies who were stacking the shelves.
"Thanks ladies," I said, "it's good to see them back where they belong."
They seemed genuinely pleased that their work was being recognised and giggled in appreciation.
Trying to be fair to all the shelf stackers in the vicinity I mentioned to the woman directly opposite that I was sure she was doing a good job but I just didn't feel the same way about yoghurt.
She seemed a little crestfallen but burst into a smile when Jan piped up and said, "Don't worry love I'm taking him back to the home soon."
I do love shopping.

Angela - no!

2012-01-11T14:24:00.000Z

Further to my post the other day about Angela Merkel's dress sense, here's further proof.

The Daily Mash

2012-01-11T10:32:00.004Z

The Daily Mash has several good articles today. Recommended.

Bloody computers

2012-01-10T14:35:00.000Z

And, whilst I'm at it - bloody computers!
Jan decided to give her old XP laptop to her sister who uses a library computer but doesn't have one of her own. This one spends most of its time in a cupboard gathering dust so I spent a lot of yesterday getting the machine in good order by deleting all superfluous software (and access to special interest sites - Ed) and also by ensuring that all remaining applications were current and up-to-date.
All went well until late in the afternoon when for some unknown reason the bloody thing decided not to connect to our router.
WTF. It had been happy all day and it suddenly decided to misbehave and I couldn't work out why. I know my way around these machines quite well now but could I figure it out, so, tired and fed up, I decided to sleep on it.
In my experience the answer is always obvious the next morning. Well, little did I realise how much time I'd have to think about it because Jan was snoring like a gud un and Minnie needed to be let out at 4.45 in the morning.
Thanks guys, however it did allow me ample time to formulate a plan of action.
Grumpy from a lack of sleep and ready to chuck the machine out of the window at the first sign of indolence I booted up and it connected first time. It had obviously had a better night's sleep than I'd had.
Bugger.

Technology - give me a break

2012-01-09T12:34:00.002Z

We were in Currys the other day buying a kettle, one that shows pretty colours as it boils, bye the way why do kettles start to leak after a period of time? Being a bit of a technology buff I asked one of the assistants to explain a 'smart TV' to me and found myself decidedly underwhelmed.
I'm always interested in new technology but can't get excited at stuff you don't need or is overpriced.
A smart TV, from what I can see, is a combination of television and a computer. It has to be connected to the internet and to work needs about a 5Mbps connection in order to be able to watch streamed films.
In other words it gives you access, at a price, to more content. This leads to other thoughts, like just how much TV can you watch and is it really useful?
Do you really want or need a combined TV and computer?
The salesman proudly told me that some of the TVs had a browser and could be used to surf, check emails etc.
S'cuse me but has anyone stopped to figure out how these machines are used in practice? Can you really see some bloke being allowed to check his emails whilst his beloved is watching the latest gore and mayhem on EastEnders.
I think not.

A wish for New Year

2012-01-04T18:13:00.001Z

10 years ago Bob Hope died

5 years ago Johnny Cash died

A couple of months ago Steve Jobs died

A few weeks ago Jimmy Saville died

Now we have no Hope, no Cash, no Jobs and nobody left to Fix It

Let's hope nothing happens to Ed Balls!

Happy New Year.

Ahhhh, the peace

2012-01-03T00:00:00.000Z

The peace and quiet, it's wonderful. It's amazing.
After 10 days of family we finally have the place to ourselves again. It was bad enough to have rampaging young adults around in the past but now those adults have grown up and have kids of their own.
Having said that the children are wonderful, as only young children can be, so that's a real bonus. I've never been much of a fan of babies but when kids start to walk and talk you can have so much fun and let them do all the things that their parents don't allow (you're worse than the kids - Ed). Yippee.

He does what?

2012-01-02T09:30:00.000Z

So several of us we're sitting around the dinner table playing a game which involved writing the names of famous characters on pieces of paper. It's a bit of a guessing game so any name will do as long as the rest of the players are likely to know the name.
My mother is playing.
Anyway the game progresses and the name David Thomas comes up. The players look around at each other and all wonder who David Thomas is. I looked at the slip of paper with the name on it and recognise my mother's handwriting.
I said, "Mum, who is David Thomas?"
She replied, "Oh, he's my hair dresser."
Bless.

No way Jose

2011-12-31T15:10:00.000Z

Hans, a middle-aged German tourist on hisfirst visit to Orlando, Florida, finds the red light district and enters alarge brothel. The madam asks him to be seated and sends over a young lady toentertain him.

They sit and talk,frolic a little, giggle a bit, drink a bit, and she sits on his lap. Hewhispers in her ear and she gasps and runs away! Seeing this, the madam sendsover a more experienced lady to entertain the gentleman.

They sit and talk,frolic a little, giggle a bit, drink a bit, and she sits on his lap. Hewhispers in her ear, and she too screams, "No!" and walks quicklyaway.

The madam is surprised that thisordinary looking man has asked for something so outrageous that her two girlswill have nothing to do with him. She decides that only her most experiencedlady, Lola, will do. Lola has never said no, and it's not likely anything wouldsurprise her. So the madam sends her over to Hans. They sit and talk, frolic alittle, giggle a bit, drink a bit, and she sits on his lap. He whispers in herear and she screams, "NO WAY, BUDDY!" and smacks him as hard as shecan and leaves.

Madam is by now absolutely intrigued, having seennothing like this in all her years of operating a brothel. She hasn't done thebedroom work herself for a long time, but she's sure she has said yes toeverything a man could possibly ask for. She just has to find out what this manwants that has made her girls so angry. Besides she sees a chance to teach heremployees a lesson.

So she goes over to Hans and says that she's thebest in the house and is available. She sits and talks with him. They frolic,giggle, drink and then she sits in his lap.

Hans leans forwards and whispers in her ear,"Can I pay in Euros?"

The Wetherby Whaler

2011-12-31T08:00:00.000Z

I thought we'd leave it late for lunch at the Wetherby Whaler just in case they were busy. Trouble is, so did everybody else. We had to queue. Queue for a bloody fish and chip resto.
Having said that the people in the queue behind us had driven over from Hull. Hull! That's about an hours drive and they live on the coast. There's a helluva lot more fish over there than in deepest Yorkshire. 'Surely there's a decent fish shop in Hull?' I said.
'Nah, the next nearest decent one is York' (and that's a Wetherby Whaler as well).
We were visiting with my son James, and his family and James, who is a foody and avowed pescatarian, pronounced the fish and chips as outstanding.
So there you have it. If you want decent fish and chips and you live within an hours drive of Wetherby then you know where to go.
Make sure you ask for well done chips.
See what you get here, a free restaurant guide and gastro tips.

It just makes sense

2011-12-30T08:00:00.000Z

I was in the car with my mother and I was moaning about two punctures that I'd had over Christmas and the problems of getting them fixed. The first was a nail in a tyre and the second a faulty valve in another tyre.
After a slight pause she said, "It's the garages."
"What do you mean?" I said.
"Garages drive around throwing nails in the street to get business," she said.
I had to really concentrate to keep the car on the road.
It's never boring with my mum around.

Trip advisor

2011-12-29T00:00:00.000Z

This comment was left by one of our recent visitors. She is a bright, eight years old girl.

"I was a little homesick in your house and at home my own bed is more comfortable.
Love Maisie xxx"

I smile every time I look at it and it has pride of place on our fridge.

Is that it?

2011-12-26T15:52:00.000Z

It's 11.00 pm on Christmas night and I'm stone cold sober, on my own, having just dropped my mother back home. The roads are empty and every light seems to be set at green. Time for a little quiet reflection.
An annual recurring thought popped into my head.
Is that it?
We had a houseful of folks with not an inch to spare (with more coming on Boxing Day to stay) with weeks of planning and hours of preparation, Jan was very tired and more than a little frazzled, but that was it. It was all over.
Twenty four hours of festivities all over in the blink of an eye. I know that it makes me sound like a grumpy old man (nothing new there then - Ed) but is it really worth all the fuss, all the hype?

A poorly boy

2011-12-24T17:30:00.000Z

Poor old Max. For over a month now he has had a nasty cyst on his foot that was very angry, swollen and from which he would lose blood. We had been trying, for about a month, to treat it with antibiotics to no avail but we bit the bullet yesterday and had a surgical procedure to cut it out.
It was even worse than anyone had thought and he is now stitched and bandaged and hobbling about. Frankly the vets are unsure of the cause and have prepared us for further problems.
At least it now means he spends Christmas at home instead of in kennels. Bless.

OK, what's the answer

2011-12-22T11:50:00.000Z

It's been a long time since either of us has been on a 'works outing' but that's just changed, and we're not just talking about a coach trip to Blackpool either.
Despite being 'very part-time', we were very kindly invited to dinner at the excellent Malt Shovel in Brearton by the proprietor of the kennels we hardly work at.
Not only was there an excellent dinner but it also happened to be pub quiz night and carols, accompanied by a small brass band (what else, it is Yorkshire after all), around the huge Christmas tree outside.
Now, Jan and I being a little competitive, are rather partial to a pub quiz, which, when you add back all the half points deducted by a miserly quiz master, we won. Well, OK, our table won. Jan's good for literature (books and that), cooking and knitting and I'm good for sport, science and life's deeper problems and we're both useless at, as it's politely known, popular culture (ie bloody Eastenders and modern music).
So if your team needs 'beefing up' in the intellectual department give us a call. Our rates are very modest (unlike you - Ed).

One of life's mysteries

2011-12-21T08:20:00.000Z

When I was young, much younger, you would, from time to time, see a man with one leg shorter than the other. I'm not sure why but it was always a man, never a woman, probably just one of those little burdens that us men had to bear. The poor man would clump around with a grotesquely thick soled shoe to compensate for his shorter leg.
I haven't seen anything like that for many years until recently.
Tell me it's some kind of joke that women, who admittedly missed out the first time round, think it's somehow fashionable to wear the same kind of footwear now.
These modern shoes are stupid and it's impossible to walk in them without either lifting your foot completely off the ground and walking like an elephant or allowing your heel to leave the shoe.
Come on ladies, wake up. They make you look stupid!

A mystery solved

2011-12-19T10:29:00.003Z

At long last we know who ate all the pies.

My favourite Christmas song

2011-12-19T10:00:00.000Z

Shane McGowan - dentally challenged dope head or creative genius. Discuss.

Don't shoot the messenger

2011-12-17T09:00:00.000Z

It's a romantic full moon, when Pedro said, "Hey, mamacita, let's do Weeweechu."
Oh no, not now, let's look at the moon!" said Rosita.

Oh, c'mon baby, let's you and I do Weeweechu. I love you and it's the perfect time,"

Pedro begged.

"But I wanna just hold your hand and watch the moon." replied Rosita.
Please, corazoncito, just once, do Weeweechu with me."

Rosita looked at Pedro and said, "OK, one time, we'll do Weeweechu."

Pedro grabbed his guitar and they both sang.....
"Weeweechu a Merry Christmas, Weeweechu a Merry Christmas,

Weeweechu a Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year."

The road to hell

2011-12-16T14:12:00.000Z

I'm beginning to really dislike motorway driving in the south of England. During one of our recent trips we were driving north along the M23 towards the M25.
A warning sign said 'M25, Long Delays between Junction 3 and Junction 29'. WTF, that's virtually the whole length of the motorway, with long delays.
Now I'm not always convinced that the warning signs are very accurate but I was in no mood to take a chance so we took the next exit off the M23 and headed cross country.
The cross country roads were trouble free and we finished the journey without problem. Thank god for sat navs is all I can say.
On the way back home the other day we saw warning signs stating that the A1 was totally closed near Peterborough. As I marginally prefer the A1 to the M1 we had to change our route quickly. I remembered that I'd seen a route north leaving the M1 at Junction 21a and taking the A46 to rejoin the A1 at Newark, higher up, so that's what we did.
What a good route. Apart from some road works which will soon be finished, very fast.

Festive cheer

2011-12-14T19:57:00.000Z

Guess which pub we were in last Wednesday?

Something a little different

2011-12-14T09:30:00.000Z

Thanks to Will for this.

A modern dilemma

2011-12-13T14:38:00.000Z

With Leeds in the running for its own TV station will the first words be, "Ay oop luv, here's t'news?"

Wot, no wind

2011-12-10T11:05:00.001Z

Today's Saturday so after a quick trip to Petersfield, it must be Brighton.
We're at my son James' house to see my granddaughter Clara. What a little treasure.
I don't normally 'do' babies but she is such pretty happy child who (very surprisingly - Ed) seems pleased to see me. Despite not having seen her for several months she was immediately comfortable and (very surprisingly - Ed) smiley.
So that's a bonus.

East Sussex

2011-12-08T20:31:00.000Z

Were down in Eastbourne at the start of a seasonal week-long trip to see the grand-kids.
Eastbourne because that's where my good friend and old tennis coaching partner Rob lives. I don't know this part of the world and haven't seen Rob for several years so a visit was in order.
My view of Eastbourne was 'old folks' and wheelchairs but how wrong I was. Apart from being attractive, this is a thriving town, full of life.
After a good curry the night before, we took a trip into the countryside and amongst others visited Beachy Head. You'd be right to think that that's a bit ghoulish given that it's a favourite spot for suicides but I was interested to see the area.
The downside of the visit was the wind. It was blowing a gale. The wind was so strong that we were unable to walk more than a few meters from the car. I've never experienced anything like it.
What was very interesting was to see 'rangers' patrolling the area ready to talk to any would be jumpers. Having said that the wind was so strong you couldn't possible have launched yourself off.
Later we visited the very pretty village of Alfriston and enjoyed a drink in front of a log fire in the very excellent Deans Place. Bugger the wind outside, this was the life. Much better. Highly recommended.

Vot, no sense of der humour

2011-12-05T15:05:00.001Z

Have you ever noticed what that fashion icon Angela Merkel wears? It's like she bought a job lot of stuff from Primark and rotates them. It's always the same, a coloured jacket that is cut like every other one but in a different colour and teamed with dark pants. Today her jacket looked dark, either dark blue or black.
I can't wait until tomorrow. I particularly look forward to the pastel colours.
Who says the Germans don't have a sense of humour?

Fancy a giggle?

2011-12-05T11:05:00.001Z

This made me laugh.

Get it sorted

2011-12-05T09:46:00.001Z

Why does everybody, well not absolutely everybody, get so enthused about bloody Pandas? The people that shipped them half way round the world should be crated up and have the same done to them.
What is it with crowds standing by the side of the road waving flags at two huge lorries as the pandas get delivered to a zoo? Has our 'celebrity' obsessed culture sunk so low that we wave flags at lorries now? This article pretty much summed it up for me. What I'd like them to do is maul their keeper then eat him (with a bit of bamboo on the side) and hopefully change their appeal forever.
And, whilst I'm at it, can you think of anything more stupid then letting 'Brussels' exercise any control over euro-zone budgets? This is the organisation that has never had its own accounts signed off by its auditors. It's a corrupt shambles, patently incapable of running its own affairs. What is everyone thinking of, well OK, not every, everyone?
Let me at 'em.

A sweet gift

2011-12-01T17:21:00.001Z

Jan has just bought me a Jehovah's Witness advent calendar.
Every time I open a door a little voice tells me to fuck off.
Cute.

Sorry

2011-11-29T08:50:00.001Z

I have always disliked blog sites that don't update regularly. I have always tried to write something everyday but of late I have failed and for that I apologise. I'm not sure why it is but whatever the reason it just hasn't happened.
I suspect that it's a question of the right kind of stimulation combined with a resistance to mention stuff too close to home that might upset others. I'm not sure.
France was an adventure with many things new and different and maybe England is just more familiar and so more difficult to write about, again I'm not sure.
Bear with me the muse may return but if it doesn't I'll hang up my pen and give you the courtesy of letting you know.

A lot to answer for

2011-11-22T14:28:00.001Z

An authentic trip to India

2011-11-18T14:10:00.001Z

Are you one of the thousands that fancy a trip to India but can't afford one, then here's the answer.

Not for the squeamish

2011-11-15T18:22:00.001Z

I find this one of the funniest programmes on television. It's a bit off the wall inasmuch as Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant get their (miserable) friend Karl Pilkington to complete a bucket list by visiting countries and 'enjoying' unusual experiences.

Mince Pies

2011-11-14T17:55:00.001Z

The trouble with mince pies is they're so bloody yummy.
Each year we sample all the different pies from all our local stores. It's an excuse to eat pies in the interest of research but also an opportunity to find the right pastry and mincemeat combination.
Over the years Tesco deep filled mince pies have been our favourite and as yet we have to sample them. Harrogate is a bit too posh for a Tesco (although planning permission has now been granted) so they're not easy to find but my mother reminded me that there is a Tesco mini mart at a petrol station near her.
Anyway we are working our way through the various stores and I'll report back.
For our foreign friends (and those from Lancashire) I should point out that a mince pie is a sweet confection and not stuffed with meat.
Talking about mince pies reminds me of a time when we lived in France when I'd stock up with the little blighters during each autumn drive to the UK.
Early one December I mentioned to Jan that I'd eaten them all and that we had none left for Christmas, but not to worry I'd found a £25 return trip to Stansted and I'd pop over and fill a suitcase.
'Bugger that,' said Jan, 'I'll go myself and do a little shopping at the same time.'
She came back with umpteen boxes. Not the cheapest pies we'd ever eaten but boy did they taste good.

Tartiflette

2011-11-09T13:59:00.000Z

I mentioned a slap up meal in the last post (actually there were two) and I've been dreaming about it (them) ever since. So much so that Jan made one of them for lunch yesterday.
After nearly nine years in France we had to move to England to eat a delicious Tartiflette.
What a great dish. Glyn our host, who does most of the cooking Chez Glyn, produced the most mouth watering dish imaginable and, with friends visiting from France soon, we've decided to add it to the menus. Basically it's a one pot meal with potatoes, smoked ham/bacon and cheese.
Glyn's was particularly nice and I can imagine a few corrective interviews until Jan gets it just right, but I'm sure it will be well worth the wait.
Here's the recipe with some good pictures.

Black eyed peas anyone?

2011-11-07T16:01:00.000Z

That was an interesting and very enjoyable weekend.
We had been invited to stay with friends, our next door neighbours when we were in France, over in Lancashire. It's a part of England that neither of us know and started with a trip to Another Place, the Antony Gormley sculptures on Crosby Beach, just north of Liverpool.
For the avoidance of doubt, the sculpture is the one on the right above.
Over 100 life size cast iron figures are spread over three kilometres of beach and a kilometre out to sea. Some are submerged at high tide but no matter how hard I tried I couldn't get Jan to stay still long enough to see how high the water came.
After that we drove up to Southport home to some of Liverpool's players and an attractive town in its own right.
Later that evening we went to a fireworks display at Bolton School where we met the headmistress and tried black eyed peas and vinegar for the first and possibly the last time. All this followed by a slap up meal back at our hosts home.
How cool is all that?

Something for nothing

2011-11-03T18:44:00.001Z

In this day and age it's not often that you get something for nothing but today we did.
It all started last week when a couple of guys turned up at the door offering to fit cavity wall insulation to the house for free. Your immediate reaction is 'go away' but they promised that there was no catch, it would be paid by the government and it would be completed the next week within a couple of hours.
As it happened they were doing the same work on the house opposite and because I reckoned that he is a canny kind of guy (see how northern/scottish I've become) we decided to have it done as well.
Frankly the house is always pretty warm but I thought that an extra layer of insulation (even if there was one already fitted) would do no harm. They arrived as promised this morning and finished the job on time.
Toasty.

Wish you were here

2011-11-02T11:09:00.000Z

Grief, we're still recovering.
We normally live a quiet life, building model planes, knitting and stuff like that, but we had friends to stay last week and the action packed days that followed really changed the routine. Mind you, it changed in a very nice way.

Amongst the fun was a visit to Harrogate to see Question of Sport live in the HIC on Friday, dinner at The Yorke Arms, Ramsgill on Saturday and Eggs Benedict at Fountains Abbey for Sunday brunch. All this intermingled with days out treats for a seven years old.

As if all that wasn't enough we were entertained day and night by my good friend AJ who also had my mother in stitches over dinner on Sunday night. Excellent.

Where's me cardy?

2011-11-01T14:03:00.000Z

It never fails to amaze me at how little people (OK, young women) wear on a night out.
There I was, at 11.00 pm last Saturday, sitting in a car in my ski jacket and woolly hat ~~looking for my skis~~ waiting for the car to warm up (looking like a prat -Ed). There she was sitting on the step outside a shop in a short skirt and skimpy top.
I realise that women have this extra layer of subcutaneous fat that will help protect them from the cold but this was ridiculous.
I first noticed this strange behaviour several decades ago in Newcastle. There was snow on the ground, it was very cold and we'd just left Tuxedo Junction (OK, we were young and that's what you did in those days) and there they were, lots of young women, pouring out of the club wearing so little it wasn't true. It was crazy and not much appears to have changed over the years. Strange.

News flash

2011-10-31T15:21:00.000Z

Just in case you missed this important piece of news you can read about it here.

You wanna what?

2011-10-27T11:33:00.000+01:00

It was the spring of 1957 and Bobby went to pick up hisdate. When he got to the front door, the girl's father answered and invited him in.

"Carrie's not ready yet, so why don't you have a seat?" he said. "That'scool," said Bobby.
Carrie's father asked Bobby what they were planning to do. Bobby replied politely, "We'll probably just go to the soda shop or a movie."Carrie's father responded, "Why don't you two go out and screw? I hear all the kids are doing it."
Naturally, this comes as a bit of a surprise to Bobby, so he asked Carrie's Dad to repeat it.
"Yeah," said Carrie's father, "Carrie really likes to screw;she'll screw all night if we let her!"
Bobby's eyes lit up, and his plan for the evening was beginning to look pretty good.
A few minutes later, Carrie came downstairs in her little poodle skirt and announced that she was ready to go. Almost breathless with anticipation, Bobby escorted his date out the front door.

About 20 minutes later, Carrie rushed back into thehouse, slammed the door behind her, and screamed at her father, "Daddy!It's called 'The TWIST'!"

Banned from the supermarket

2011-10-22T15:03:00.002+01:00

Yesterday I was at my local Sainsbury's store buying a large bag of Winalot dog food and was in the checkout queue when a woman behind me asked if I had a dog.

What did she think I had, an elephant? On impulse I told her that no, I didn't have a dog, I was starting the Winalot Diet again. I added that I probably shouldn’t, because I'd ended up in hospital last time, but that I'd lost 2 stone before I woke up in intensive care.

I told her that it was an essentially perfect diet and that the way it works is to load your pockets with Winalot nuggets and simply eat one or two every time you feel hungry. The food is nutritionally complete so it works well and I was going to try it again. (I have to mention here that practically everyone in the queue was now enthralled with my story.)

Horrified, she asked me if I ended up in intensive care because the dog food poisoned me? I told her no, I stepped off the kerb to sniff an Irish Setter's arse and got hit by a car.

I'm now banned from Sainsbury's.

The way forward

2011-10-21T11:43:00.000+01:00

I started life by being very pro Europe and more specifically I was in favour of the Common Market as it was then envisaged way back in the 70's.
But things have changed and they've changed in a way that I dislike intensely.
Creeping federalism by some power hungry loons has meant that the EU has been put together on a piecemeal, somewhat insidious basis but more importantly in an unsustainable way.
For me this article sums up the basic problem with the entity that has emerged. You can't even get the two countries with the most to lose/gain over the Euro debacle to agree on the way forward. So what chance all 17 Euro countries.
And then the notion that 27 countries, in the wider EU, with cultures, politics and economies so diverse, agreeing on how to move forward is nothing more than fantasy, pie in the sky.
In my humble opinion there is no appetite within the population of Europe for what has emerged. Non whatsoever. If they want my advice they'd stop, completely scrap what has evolved, reconsider and propose a federal European entity and ask which countries wanted in.
It's the only way that the Euro can move forward but realistically I think it's a dead duck.
And we pay huge sums for idiots to come up with this mess. More fool us.

If you say so.......

2011-10-19T11:05:00.000+01:00

I've often thought that supermarket cashiers got their job because they maybe offered just a little bit more than your average supermarket employee. Call me a bigot, but there you go (you're a bigot - Ed).
Anyway we were in a supermarket yesterday and Jan had put a yellow, a red and a green pepper in the same bag because the price (£ per kilo) was the same for all of them.
To the uninitiated that sort of makes sense and it's something I had done previously myself.
As the cashier tore open the bag to weigh the peppers separately Jan said to her that they were all the same price per kilo so it wouldn't make any difference.
Because the same thing had already happened to me, I whispered in Jan's ear that they probably did it for stock control purposes and that different coloured peppers probably had different bar-codes. Jan understood immediately and so far so good.
Then, the piece de resistance, as the cashier completed weighing the peppers she said, "look, it does make a difference, the red one weighs less than the green one and because each of the peppers are a different weight they cost different amounts!" Bless.
I thought the woman standing behind us was going to wet herself.

Can it be true?

2011-10-18T15:15:00.000+01:00

So I'm sitting next to Jan, I'm watching television and she's reading a magazine. I become aware that she's looking at me and notice that she shakes her head.
Whilst I'm quite used to this strange behaviour, I ask her what she's doing.
She thrusts the article that she's reading at me and leaves me to read.
The article is headed, "Is He A Psychopath?" I was just a little disturbed to say the least. My love of the last fifteen years was wondering whether I was a psychopath.
Anyway amongst lots of other things there was a check-list that is used in conjunction with a psychiatric interview to determine whether someone is a psychopath, or not. This is the list:

1 Meticulous about his appearance (not sure why it's always a he!)
2 Glibness, superficial charm
3 Need for stimulation
4 Pathological lying
5 Cunning, manipulative
6 Lack of remorse
7 Shallow
8 Callous, lack of empathy
9 Grandiose sense of self worth
10 Parasitic lifestyle
11 Promiscuous sexual behaviour
12 Impulsiveness
13 Irresponsibility

The list goes on but I'm sure you get the drift.
Anyway, I said to Jan, "How did I do? Am I a psychopath?"
She said, "no", as if she was actually bloody contemplating it, "you fail on the first one, meticulous about his appearance."
I didn't ask her about any of the others in the list because I was scared about what she might say.

Make it clear

2011-10-14T15:13:00.000+01:00

I hate rules/laws that fudge the issue.
If it's wrong to hit a horse with a whip at the beginning of a race then why would it be right to hit it at the end of the race? I have no feelings either way on this issue but hate it when rules are introduced that just don't make sense.
Take the case of cutting dog's ears. It's either right or wrong, in my opinion there's no in-between.
Our dogs are Beaucerons and we got them from a breeder in France. In the period between getting Max and then Min they changed the rules. Instead of outlawing the cutting of ears altogether they introduced 'a law' stating that if the ears were cut then a breeder couldn't show the dog.
Such a ridiculous fudge. Max's ears were cut and Minnie's are natural. Again I don't have a strong view either way but laws like that should be much more clear cut. If it's wrong to cut ears then it's wrong.
I hate any form of appeasement like that, unless of course it's aimed at appeasing me!

The citizenship test

2011-10-13T10:27:00.000+01:00

Ivan made me aware of this in another place.
I found the questions interesting but only in their irrelevance. Why would you need to know alternate names for the Church of England or whether Ulster Scots is a dialect spoken in Northern Ireland?
As a citizen of the United Kingdom I have managed quite well without this knowledge and here we are asking others questions about it. It's a joke.
I failed (64%). How did you do?
Take the test here.

Cruisin'

2011-10-11T19:12:00.000+01:00

Mum has just come back from a short cruise to Lisbon and back. Not bad for an 87 years old. I imagined that she'd come back grumpy but not at all. She enjoyed it enormously.
Jan and I popped round for lunch today and she couldn't stop talking about it. She went with Olsen Lines on the MS Balmoral and had nothing bit praise for the amenities, food and the trips when in port.
Frankly it's not something that really appeals to me, especially the bit about having to wear a jacket and tie for dinner. Still, not everyone's a scruff like me.
Conversations with my mum usually make me laugh because she has a different outlook on people and life. She mentioned various people that she'd met including a couple of elderly men, the first was 'self made,' but he looked a bit rough, a bit like a gangster and another who was gay, "but he had impeccable table manners", she said, as if in some way that would be unusual.
As she mentioned table manners she took a sidelong glance at me and I said, "don't I have good table manners mum?"
"You could have if you tried," she said. We just fell about.
She also mentioned another person, a lady, who was very elegant, but thin and who also had a catheter but no bladder. I was in stitches.
She couldn't get over how many old people there were, some in wheelchairs, and of course the captain.
"He was Norwegian, you know, from Norway!"
Whatever you say about my mum, she certainly cheers me up, well some of the time. Bless.

A good day

2011-10-09T16:18:00.000+01:00

1 Turn on TV in bedroom to watch race ✔

2 Tell Jan to stop whingeing and go back to sleep ✔

3 Watch Andrew Marr ✔

4 Read Sunday Times ✔

5 Go to shops whilst Jan listens to the Archers ✔

6 Get earache from Jan cos I'm slobbing whilst she's busy in the house ✔

7 Get lovely email from friends who want to go on holiday with me and I can take Jan if I want ✔

8 All in all a very good day ☺

Connections

2011-10-09T10:54:00.001+01:00

What's the connection between Minnie and Michael Jackson?
Well, earlier this week she had a small procedure on her paw and, according to the bill, one of the drugs the vet used to knock her out was Propofol.
But that's not all, what's my connection with Strictly Come Dancing?
Well, in a previous life I took the exams to be a tennis coach and one of the other people on the course was a somewhat slimmer Dann Lobb.
A really nice man and a very good tennis player.

A mystery

2011-10-06T10:16:00.000+01:00

I just don't understand what all the fuss is about.

Bread and cheese

2011-10-04T11:26:00.000+01:00

Talking about being mentally scarred - Jan asked me to pop out for some bread rolls today, pointing out that a nice lump of a really good Lancashire cheese needed eating.
I pointed out that after 15 years of 'marriage' I would have thought that she'd have realised that I rarely eat bread with cheese. An issue that stems from my childhood. From my Italian mother's attempts at making sandwiches.
Don't forget an Italian (in her day) hadn't really come across the notion of a sandwich. My mother's attempts at packed lunches involved half a loaf of badly cut bread with several pounds of cheese in the middle producing a cheese sandwich about four inches thick.
As a growing lad I tried my best to eat them but the first mouthful was always the start of the problem. That first mouthful congealed into a solid, flat paste and stuck to the roof of my mouth and was really difficult to shift. Given the time it took to release said mess from the top of and around my mouth, lunch-time had finished and it was impossible to eat any more. I went back to class still hungry.
It was the start of my psychosis.

Memory

2011-10-03T11:20:00.000+01:00

I must admit that I've offloaded my long-term memory into the cloud. For as long as I can remember (ho ho) I've used Google Calender to record everything I have to do.
It all started long ago when I used to make lists. 'To-do' lists that were always completed from the top so that everything was completed in chronological order without fear or favour.
I never allowed myself to move on to the next item before the previous one had been dealt with. All a bit anal but ultimately efficient.
That behaviour has continued to the present day but instead of handwritten lists my to-do list is now recorded in the calender. A calender that sits on Google's servers somewhere. Which means that part of my brain is actually somewhere else. How weird is that?
It's a pretty foolproof system and it allows me to grow old without having to remember anything. Excellent.

A sobering thought

2011-10-02T11:17:00.002+01:00

No chance with the beach towels now.

The best pork pies

2011-10-02T11:09:00.000+01:00

I'm not a great fan of pork pies, I usually find them stodgy, solid and frankly not very appetizing.
But, that's it, look no more I have found the best pork pies in the world, bar none.
Appleton's butchers in the market place in Ripon make pies that you can only dream of. If I had a criticism of other pork pies I'd say they were like solid rubber lumps of filling with hard pastry. Appleton's on the other hand are 'light as a feather', easily digestible and keep you coming back for more, so unlike anything you've ever had before.
We were out to friends for dinner and, because they're in Lancashire, we decided to take them some real honest, top quality, Yarkshire food.
As I stood in the shop, people we queuing outside just to buy these pies. The woman in front of me wanted three and they didn't have any more but the 'lad' said, 'hang on a minute I'll go check.' He came back beaming, 'they're just coming out of the oven,' he said, and sure enough minutes later he walked in with a tray of said pies.
They were so hot that we, the whole shop, all had to wait until they'd cooled down. Excellent.