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Showing posts from April, 2019

Well, crims in the family! I knew about the spy - well, the sort of spy - but crims eh! An everyday folk of country folk, one of whom apparently was not above skinning turds

That, of course, is a huge exaggeration, but what would one of my posts be without a least one bucketful of bullshit. The question is rhetorical, of course, because going by the number of comments left here - as in none to hardly any - no one will answer it anyway, so in a swift face-saving exercise I am downgrading that question with immediate effect to ‘rhetorical’. There is though a bit of truth in it, and I found out like this.

A few posts ago I recorded by my 96-year-old very ill father-in-law had come to live with us after spending the past seven or eight months across the lane at the farm. As my sister-in-law runs a ‘farm holidays for families with young children’ business and as the season has now started, Roy couldn’t stay on (he was living downstairs in a part of the farmhouse guests and their children use), but my wife didn’t like the idea of him going into a home and offered to take him in.

My son’s bedroom (he is now at university in Liverpool), once the a big utility room …

A few more piccies for the entertainment of those who like eating but don’t spend an inordinate amount of time agonising over ‘what that meal just meant’

If you like the pictures I published in my previous post, here are a few more. They are again chosen at random, and I repeat that there is no underlying theme, they don’t represent an exposition of any ideology or theory and I make no great claims for them. They are simply offered in the hope that you might linger over them just a little longer than you might otherwise.

I also occasionally enjoy manipulating a picture so that it is almost but not quite abstract and quite often like a rather ‘artificial look’. But pretty much it comes down to what final result I end up with. If I like where I have arrived, the dicking around stops.

Oh, and none has any ‘meaning’ whatsoever. You don’t eat a well-cooked, well-prepared and well-presented meal (as in ‘the art of cooking’) then spend days and weeks agonising over what exactly that meal ‘meant’. With a bit of luck you simply enjoyed and appreciated eating it.



































A few piccies to help you keep your pecker up. No mention of Brexit in this entry, by they way, and I am probably even more relieved than you are

A friend, B (and, yes, B you are B) commented just the other day that he wished I would publish my blog entries ‘by topic’. Well, the more I think about his suggestion, the less I understand it. For one thing although I am ‘serious’ about my blog, publishing entries, as suggested, by topic, strikes me as taking it - the blog - and but also myself just a tad too seriously.

I am ‘serious’ about it in several ways, none of which, though, are very important. Let’s face it: it is just one of several hundreds of thousands blogs published throughout the world and at the end of the day is indistinguishable from all the rest. So, B, publishing entries ‘by topic’ kind of implies that I have something rather worthwhile to pass on, but to save all the busy ‘time-poor’ readers the hassle of ploughing through unnecessary stuff, here’s what I have to say ‘by topic’. Lord preserve me from any such self-importance.

I write this blog for several reasons: in no particular order because I like writing, bec…

Two developments at home and the Brexit farce goes on (although it might conclude a week today)

For a blog which has its roots in a diary I kept for about 15 years - handwritten at that - I’ve surprised myself by not mentioning two developments, one of which is surely a big moment in any father’s life. Four weeks ago today my daughter married her boyfriend and the father of her young daughter (who is the sweetest little thing - well, I’m biased, of course, but decide for yourselves from the photograph below. I must admit that in keeping with modern trends I didn’t expect her to marry so soon - she will be 23 at the beginning of August - because as a rule women have been getting married later in life than ever before. I imagine this has a lot to do with the fact that over the past
40 years attitudes to women and the roles assigned to them in Western society has changed a great deal.

Then there’s also the fact that the introduction of reliable contraception in the form of the pill (strictly the ‘Pill’, though I can’t for the life of me understand why it should be given an initial ca…