I Told You So!

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“My old man’s a Dustman, he wears a Dustman’s hat”.

Sorry, I think that should be…

“My old man’s an Environmental Domestic Waste Disposal Engineer,

He wears an Environmental Domestic Waste Disposal Engineer’s hat”

Mustn’t upset the PC brigade.

Here’s another case of “I told you so”.

It appears that someone has noticed that fortnightly bin collections could cause respiratory illnesses for Britain’s 60,000 “dustmen“, according to a study by the government-funded waste watchdog.

Leaving food waste to rot for two weeks instead of one could expose refuse collectors to dangerous levels of fungal spores and airborne micro-organisms, increasing the risk of throat infections and other health problems.

Surprise…..surprise.

The report by the Waste and Resources Action Programme (WRAP) confirmed that less frequent collections did result in an increase in “incidence of maggots and flies and the risk of exposure to bacteria, moulds (and their spores), and bioaerosols (airborne microorganisms) from both kitchen and garden organic waste materials”.

At the onset of the fortnightly collections, when the public complained bitterly about health considerations, they were ignored by local and central government. Now, with the potential of “binmen's” health and on-the-job illness looming, suddenly it's a big issue.

The obsession with recycling rates has taken precedence over common sense and public health.

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It was Midnight on the Ocean

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Another Silly Song from the nineteen thirties....

........in fact a very Silly Song.

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"I bought myself a Bottle of Ink...Heigh-Ho, What am I going to say?"

And later on...

"I bought myself a Blotting Pad in case I made a smudge,

Although my heart was beating fast, my hand refused to budge."

So what shall I say today?...... I know I'll follow Cherry Pie with a Nonsense Verse.

It was midnight on the ocean,

No bus was there in sight,

The sun and moon were shining

And it rained all that night.

In that summer snow storm

The rain came down like glass,

And a bare-footed boy with boots on

Stood sitting on the grass.

And....

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"Take it away Norman!"

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"Sur la Continong"

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During the first World War songs were being written thick and fast.

I have quite a number of these, now looking rather faded and just a little fragile. Of course they are getting on for 90 years old. The tunes are very easy to play, usually marches.

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The above song tells of a worried lass, called Mabel as her lover, Tommy, goes off to France.

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Sergeant Brown, keep an eye on Tommy for me.

For he might go wrong on the 'Continong',

When he reaches 'Gay Paree'.

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She was not worried too much about the trenches, more about the ladies of Paris!

This was written in 1917 and I can imagine it being played on the old 'piana' in many a front parlour.

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This next one dates from 1920, two years after the war ended.

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Bertie was a soldier and when on the 'Continong',

"Take me back to Blighty", used to be his favourite song.

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It wasn't mainly because of the girls that he wanted to go back across the channel, but because of the high cost of everything in Britain after the war.

The last verse goes.....

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I can speak the lingo like the natives do,

"Sontey ! Vive la France and Commong tally voo"

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Unlike this soldier in my signing off ditty...

I met a bloke the other day, a snoozing in the trench,

‘E didn’t know a word of ours, nor me a word of French;

An’ ‘ow it was we managed, well, I can’t understand,

But I never used me phrasebook, though I had it in me hand.

I winked at ‘im to start with, ‘e grinned from ear to ear,

‘An ‘e sez “Tipperary”, an’ I sez “Sooveneer?”

‘E ‘ad me only Woodbine, I ‘ad ‘is thin cigar,

Which set the ball a’rollin’, an’ so, well there you are.

I showed ‘im next me wife an’ kids, ‘e upped an’ showed me is,

Two pretty little froggy kids wiv ‘air all in a frizz,

“Annette” ‘e sez, “Louise”, ‘e sez, ‘an ‘is tears began to fall,

We were comrades when we parted….but we’d ‘ardly spoke at all.

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Kipper Claims a First!

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Tuesday is Market Day, well in Thame at least.

I just love old traditional outdoor markets and as there isn't a really good one close by I have to nip up to Thame for a good day out.

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One of the things I like about Thame is that all (except all day) parking is free!

They want you.....They welcome you.....They encourage you to come and shop there.

None of this £4 an hour rubbish here.

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Just look at all that home baked bread, sticky buns and crunchy rolls.

Bought a lovely slab of carrot cake here....but not for me. I'm on a diet!

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Like many other towns Thame has lost it's 'Woolies'.... So it's back to the good old days of markets and many stalls here are now stocking those little bits "that Woolworth used to sell".

Although I couldn't see a "stick with a horses head handle" I must admit.

But, .....What I did see......and I claim the prize for the first to see...

.....Yes CHRISTMAS CARDS.

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I promise you you this is not a con. There they were.....Christmas cards on sale in July!!!

Mind you, with all these Royal Mail strikes and the expected "summer of discontent"....maybe he's on to something.

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News in Brief

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There I was doing a Google search for “Herrings”, you know, the fishy type, before they take up smoking and become kippers, and what did I find?

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Oh no…..not more Knickers!

This time from my favourite county….Dorset.

When a village fete committee decided to budget for this year’s summer gathering because of the recession, few in the community realised how far they’d go.

Keen to keep costs down, the committee has ditched the bunting this year and will be lining the streets of Langton Herring with... pairs of knickers!

What started as a joke at a meeting has turned into reality with assorted piles of underwear strung up on string to decorate the village in the run-up to the fete on Saturday.

Chairman Anne Kerins who volunteered her home as an official ‘pantie collection point,’ said:

“The credit crunch is the theme for our fete this year. We’re keeping all the prices as low as possible and will be selling credit crunch biscuits which are delicious and cheap and also don’t cost the Earth to make.”

“I think visitors to our fete who see the panties will take it in the way that it’s meant – a bit of fun. Hopefully, it will make them smile and I think these days we all need something to smile about.”

She went on to say:

“We all thought that life is a “bit of pants” these days so how appropriate to fly panties instead of bunting. It’s given people a bit of a chuckle although I don’t think everyone approves.”

“We must have over 100 pairs. People have been very generous.”

Hmmmm….Must be a few ladies down there in Dorset finding it a bit draughty?

And as it's supposed to be a 'silly week'......

....here's a picture of my 'drawers'!!

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Where I store my music collection.

And a ditty to suit……

There was a old man from Kentire,

Who was seized with a carnal desire,

And the primary cause,

Was a young ladies drawers,

Which were hung up to dry by the fire!

(Perhaps I should rename this blog “Kipper’s Ditties”?)

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Eight Poppies

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Eight Poppies.

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For the eight who died two weeks ago.

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and

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In Memory of....

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Harry Patch, who died on Saturday aged 111, who was believed to be the last surviving British soldier to have served in the trenches on the Western Front (1914-18).

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'Four Legged Friends'

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I read somewhere last week about bloggers having a 'Silly Week'.

As if the papers weren't already having a 'field day' with the 'Silly Season'.

Anyway, it was aimed mainly at political blogs, which can be a bit too serious for most of the time.

I have always believed "Variety is the spice of life", so I shall spare you a week of silly jokes.

So , what do you make of this:-

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It is the front cover of a LP record I bought some 30 years ago. Yes, I still have a record turntable and still loads of old LP's.....all unusual music.

Why this was called "Horsemusic" I have no idea. It is a recording of music played on the concertina by Lea Nicholson. Wonderful playing, I don't know how he does it.

And now....what do you make of this:-

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A horse which has grown a curly, golden moustache is refusing to let grooms shave it off.

The horse also refuses to let staff at the stables in Bitton, Gloucestershire, into his stall there for fear that they will remove his whiskers.

However Alfie clearly enjoys the look and groom Justine Greenslade said all efforts to clip it had been in vain.

"He's obviously rather proud of his facial hair," she said.

"He runs a mile if he thinks we're going to trim it."

Moustaches are relatively rare on horses although they are noted among Friesians, which are said to be able to grow ones to rival surrealist painter Salvador Dali's.

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A small bit of trivia....

“Won-one” was a race horse,

“Tu-tu” was one too,

“Won-one" won one race,

And "Tu-tu" won one too!

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And nice little photo I took last week, on a day when the sun shone!

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They came over to see what I was up to.....Nice pic don't you think?

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"Wallace the Lion"

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Whilst the 'ink is still wet' on the post about Edgar Wallace, I thought I would follow it up with an associated bit on a lighter note.

Edgar's mother later married and presented him with a 'half-brother', named Marriott.

As far as I know, the brothers never met until Edgar Wallace went to Hollywood where he encountered another middle-aged man who was Stanley Holloway’s scriptwriter. It turned out to be, none other than his own half-brother, Marriott Edgar.

Marriot Edgar, was a quiet man with a droll sense of humour and had worked as a performer in both concert parties and pantomime.

For some reason he was always known as George… and, as his prodigious output shows, had much of the families writing skills. But, unlike Edgar Wallace, Marriott became famous for his humorous monologues. (hope you're still with me ?...what with all these 'Edgars' and 'Wallaces')

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Marriott's most famous monologue for Stanley Holloway was The Lion & Albert, in which he named the eponymous lion Wallace, in what is now generally recognised to be a fraternal in-joke.

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In 1932 Marriott noticed a press report of a lion mauling a small boy at London Zoo.

This was the idea behind “The Lion and Albert” and in order to inject the kind of Northern humour, which is so often displayed in the face of personal tragedy, he changed the location to Blackpool Zoo.

There were one great big Lion called Wallace;

His nose were all covered with scars…

He lay in a somnolent posture,

With the side of his face on the bars.

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If you enjoy this sort of 'nonsense verse' or more correctly 'monologue', you can read the whole thing here.

Marriott outlived his elder half-brother by 19 years.

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I have always wanted to write poems.....but....

I am adverse to write in verse,

Because you see, I can’t;

But if I could, I surely would,

But as I can’t…..I shan’t.

And.......does a backward poet write inverse?

And................Is a chicken crossing the road….poultry in motion?

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Bourne End's Famous Writers

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After Enid Blyton, the next best remembered literary figure to have lived in the locality, was probably Edgar Wallace, although he spent relatively little time here.

In 1928 he rented a home in Bourne End in order to be close to film studios in Beaconsfield, and in the following year he purchased ‘Chalklands‘, just off Blind Lane.

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It was rapidly adapted to Edgar’s taste and was to become a social centre for celebrities who flocked to his weekend parties.

He is seen here with friends on the river.

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I took a walk over there yesterday, the old house is now ’converted’ and the grounds filled with new (gated) houses and this was the only reference I could find.

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Edgar was born at 7 Ashburnham Grove, Greenwich (London), on April 1, 1875.

His biological parents were actors Richard Edgar (who never knew of his existence) and Mary "Polly" Richards, née Blair.

His mother, unable to manage, had the illegitimate boy fostered with George Freeman, a Billingsgate fish-porter and his wife. Known as Richard Freeman, Edgar therefore had a happy childhood.

On leaving school at the age of 11 he had a succession of jobs before joining the army at 18.

After leaving the army he became a journalist and in 1905 he first tried his hand at writing a novel.

His first effort was “Four Just Men” and was to be followed during the next 27 years by no fewer than 170 books and plays.

In 1931 he went to Hollywood USA to try his hand at scriptwriting. It was, however, not to last, for in 1932, on February 7, he slipped into a diabetic coma and died.

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His body was brought back to England and is buried here in the local cemetery off Fern Lane.

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I had been to the cemetery before, but not to look for Wallace’s grave.

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As I guessed, it was topped with one of the larger memorial stones, but surprisingly, there was nothing else on it but the name and dates.

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A quiet little cemetery, off the beaten track, but well tendered.

A narrow little path back down to the road .

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And then I spotted something in the hedge….a shaft of sunlight caught it.

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A vase “in loving memory” had been tossed there from a vandalised grave.

Thoughts and experience of many years

Are gathered from the field, like golden ears

Of grain, and milled, and pounded in the head.

Into the mixture, eggs and plums are fed….

Yea, meaty eggs, great plums of recollection

Are added to the beautiful confection;

And so, my friends, as you your places take,

Behold! The “knife of memory” cuts the cake!

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"Memories are Made of This"

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Sometimes I can’t remember…

When I’m standing by the stair,

If I should go up for something…

Or if I just came down from there.

By the fridge so often…

My mind is filled with doubt,

Did I put some food away…

Or come to take it out?

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One Giant Leap

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I'm going to give my right-hand forefinger a rest today. Yesterday I cut the tip on......yes, the edge of a bit of paper! Sore!

So as it's 40 years since we had "the Man in the Moon", I dug into the music chest and...

I do remember exactly where I was when Armstrong fluffed his line!

He should have said "..one giant leap for mankind"....but instead said "....one giant leap for a man.."

Never mind, I'd have been nervous as well.

We all stayed up to watch it at 'work'.

Yes we were all still at 'work'.

On the site, was the staff club bar and lounge, and in the lounge was one of the very first colour televisions.

We must have waited hours and hours and to be honest the pictures were very disappointing.

The achievement, fantastic.

There was relief that the landing was safe...but it wasn't really worth staying up that late for the pictures.

Except perhaps to say I was there and saw it.

"Silvery Moon and Golden Sands" 1937

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"Moon at Sea" also 1937 (A good year for the moon)

This is wartime piece from 1939 played by one of my favourite Dance Bands.....Ambrose.

Kate Smith's "Moon Song".

No fancy names for singers in those days!

She also sang in that show "Piccaninnis' Heaven".

Not sure if the PC brigade would approve today?

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I had loads more....but enough is enough.

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English Country Garden

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I have been admiring some of the gardens that appear on other blogs, like here and here.

So neat and tidy, colourful and everything in its place.

Years ago I would have spent hours in the garden, but these last few, maybe ten, years I have seen things go downhill.

First...my Plum tree died, then the Russet apple followed....a couple of years later a Greengage went the same way.

In the shrub garden things were no better.

Winter after winter I noticed that things no longer reappeared in the spring.

Even things like Primroses withered and died during the warm summers.

Of course, plants get old and 'tired'....I have got older and 'tired' and things are just not the same anymore.

Over the last five or six years I have been noticing what the National Trust do with their gardens. Lots of hardy shrubs and Lavenders and things like that....low maintenance. Yes.. I like it.

But......it still needs working on .....just look at it this morning!

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Grass is growing, lawn wants mowing,

Edges shearing, rockery clearing.

Time for sowing, all that hoeing,

Seedlings feeding, borders weeding.

Peas need sticking, fruit needs picking,

Plants want staking, leaves want raking.

Deadheads snipping, hedges clipping,

Brambles chopping, branches lopping,

Nettles hacking, bonfires stacking,

Limbs are aching, back is breaking…

Think I’ll sit…..a bit.

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Oh, yes......I nearly forgot.....that first picture at the top, was my garden here about ten years ago before I got 'tired' and 'old'.

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Travelling in Style

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A couple of months back I had a little trip up the Thames on the "Alaska."

Well, word has got around and now it seems that all and sundry are enjoying a trip on the steam launch.

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A team of boatmen called Swan Uppers have the job of corralling, catching and marking the swans on the water between Eton in Berkshire and Abingdon in Oxfordshire every July.

The ceremony used to be a means to provide food for the royal dinner table with some cygnets taken away to be fattened, but nowadays the event is about conservation rather than consumption.

The ceremony dates back to the 12th century when the ownership of all unmarked mute swans in open water in Britain was claimed by the Crown in order to ensure a ready supply for feasts.

From a 50ft steam launch called "Alaska", the Queen watched as the cygnets caught with their parents were weighed on a manicured grassy bank at Bray.

The Queen travelled in style along the Thames to Bray, near her Windsor Castle home, where a family of swans had already been caught by some of her Swan Uppers dressed in their scarlet coats.

Joining the Queen's boatmen were Swan Uppers from the Vintners and Dyers - two City of London livery companies which, over the centuries, have also maintained their rights to own swans.

The is a video of the event here:-

If the "Alaska" is good enough for her ...it's good enough for me!

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"Ton- Up Gals"

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A nun who hurried towards Pope Benedict XVI's holiday home after learning that he had suffered a minor accident was stopped by police for speeding at 120mph.

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When stunned officers asked why she was speeding, Sister Tavoletta said:

"I had heard how the Pope had fallen over and I was on my way to make sure he was OK."

The nun was stopped on the way to Pope Benedict's summer holiday chalet at Les Combes. Earlier, the pontiff had slipped in the bathroom and fractured his wrist – the news which caused great consternation at the Salesian convent.

Ok......You guessed.....she was driving.

But at 120 mph , for god's sake! (whooops, sorry).

Sister Tavoletta, aged 56, was at the wheel of the Ford Fiesta, and two other unnamed nuns, aged 65 and 78, were passengers when police pulled them over.

A Ford Fiesta........doing a 120mph? I bet this is a mistake.....more like 120 kph (72mph) perhaps?

A spokesman for Turin's police, said: "Hopefully Sister Tavoletta will be making sure she confesses her bad driving the next she goes to confession. But in the meantime, she will have to pay the Euros 375 fine (£325)."

But Sister Tavoletta, who also lost her driving licence for a month, has not meekly accepted this rebuke, instead, she will appeal against the fine.

Enid Blyton’s home

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A couple of days ago I did a post about Enid Blyton’s home here in Bourne End.

I have some more information now, about the cottage, which was not to hand at the time of writing.

Old Thatch has recently been selected for inclusion in the Telegraph Good Garden Guide, and has been awarded a One-Star status. (That doesn’t sound all that good to me but I have no idea how the rating system works.) The guide is widely acknowledged as the essential reference book for those who enjoy visiting gardens. Each County is represented in the guide.

In Buckinghamshire there are 13 gardens, six of which have two-stars (including Cliveden and Waddesdon Manor) while 3 gardens have one-star. (including Old Thatch and Chenies Manor)

So perhaps they only have the two ratings - Good or Excellent.

The cottage is now owned by Jacky Hawthorne, a garden designer, and her husband David.

The gardens are open to the public and I believe they also serve Cream Teas. All the details can be found on their website.

http://www.jackyhawthorne.co.uk/

A recently published book, called “Enid Blyton at Old Thatch” is by Tess Livingstone and reveals Enid Blyton’s inspiration locations found in her many books.

There are descriptions of roads, footpaths, houses and the river where the children in her books had their adventures.

It is published by Connor Court Publishing and you can read the first chapter here:-

http://www.connorcourt.com/catalog1/index.php?

Eranthis is an aconite

As everybody knows.

And helleborus niger is

Our friend ..the Christmas rose.

Galanthus is a snowdrop,

Matthiola is a stock,

And Cardamine the meadow flower

Which you call...lady’s smock.

Summer Hols

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Politicians have just "broken up" for the longest recess ever.

With all that lovely tax payers money they prepare to start a bumper 82-day summer holiday.

I wonder where they are planning to go?

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Here perhaps?

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Or how about 82 weeks in......

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But no......with all that lovely money of ours.....

Swimming pigs have been photographed taking a dip in the tropical waters of the Bahamas.

They are such a familiar sight at the spot that locals have named the area "Pig Beach."

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It's a stay-at-home holiday for me, I'm afraid......I'm skint !

Last summer I went to Devon for a holiday.

The landlady said to me

“We charge £20 a night, bed and breakfast…..or £12 a night if you make your own bed.”

“Oh, alright” I said,

“I’ll make the bed.”

She gave me some wood, a saw, and a hammer and nails!

How Green was our Valley

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Sunday - Looking down to Bourne End

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How they must often have longed to come home to our grey quiet skies, but not like this.

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We, quite rightfully, have a problem when we lose 8 soldiers.

The Taliban/Al Qaeda will lose 8,000 and not blink an eye.

The question is: “Are we prepared to play chicken with an enemy who has a death wish?”

I have sympathy for the soldiers on the ground trying to make a “silk purse from a sows ear“, and it is for them, that we should get out - we shouldn't waste lives when we quite obviously have no achievable mission for them to fulfil.

From Peter Hitchens' blog:-

"Next time, they should lay the coffins on the dispatch box in the Commons, right in the faces of the Cabinet and the Shadow Cabinet, and make all the MPs look at what they have done, while they debate their stupid war."

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A Juicy Bilberry Pie

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Not content with taking the fat out of crisps, the 'food police' are now busy ruining our pies, by reducing the amount of pastry.

On and on this moronic prescription for enforced sensible eating goes.

I understand that a small number of people cannot be trusted to eat one pie, but I don't understand why food should therefore be ruined for the rest of us!

It is utterly pointless anyway. If you serve workers food that doesn't fill them up, we all know what will happen half an hour later it involves a nearby newsagent, a Tracker bar and several packets of Walkers crisps etc..

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I can't say I've ever tried a plum pie....but I wouldn't mind trying a nice slice of Bilberry pie.

Now here's a 'pie' with an unusual filling.

Little Jack Horner is said to be based on a certain John Horner who was steward to the Abbot of Glastonbury during the reign of Henry VIII.

To placate the king, the abbot sent him a “pie”, and hidden under the crust were the title deeds to 12 local manors owned by the church.

Horner was entrusted with the delivery of the pie, and it is said that on the way to London he (put in his thumb and) pulled out one of the deeds for himself.

On his return he lied to the abbot, telling him that the king had rewarded him for being the bearer of such a valuable gift. It was not uncommon in those days for favourable messengers to be honoured in this way. (Or shot if the message was bad news! )

A few years after this, the abbot was sentenced to death by the king for refusing to sign the Act of Supremacy, and it is known that Horner sat on the jury that tried him.

So just like today's politicians it would seem that, even in those days, honesty, is not always the best policy.

And…..still on the subject of pies....did you know:-

That in 1655, the Lord Protector, Oliver Cromwell, banned the eating of pie,

declaring it a pagan form of pleasure!

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I Silenced Him

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Have you noticed just how noisy the country has become?

Sitting in the garden this morning, this is what wafted up from the local shops.

“This lorry is reversing” ..beep…beep “This lorry is reversing”.

The shops are, I might add, are a good quarter of a mile away! Why does it have to be so bloody loud?

This menace of unwanted sounds. This noise purporting to be music. This 'aural garbage'.

Today we have to endure the throb of music from the window-cleaners transistor, or share a day-long, ball-by-ball cricket commentary with the builder working on next door’s extension.

We are hounded by music in shops, hotels, coaches, lifts, even in the dentist’s chair.

They had similar problems even back in Victorian times but in those days it was not recorded music, but live street entertainers.

In those days the street sounds came from German bands, Welsh choirs, black-faced minstrels, one-man bands, old men with tin whistles and of course Organ Grinders.

If today's cost of living, carries on like it is, I can see me ending up like this poor chap. I have already got the Organ and the beard!

I wouldn't mind betting, that even in those days, quite a few people got annoyed by this “aural nuisance".

…but not quite as angry as this…..

There used to be an organ man who played along our street.

He doesn’t play there any more: his heart has ceased to beat.

‘Twas on a summer evening when the light was going dim,

That I pulled out my revolver and I pointed it at him.

Was it Tuesday night or Wednesday? I can’t remember which.

But anyhow I silenced him without the slightest hitch.

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'Just Dropping In'

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Norman! ............. Are you sure it's OK to

land this thing on water?

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A bit of (late) Research

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Have you noticed all the amazing ‘studies’ and ‘research’ going on at the moment.

Amazing, because most of them seem so ridiculous and the results they publish are so predictable. You always want to say “I could have told you that!”

Things like:-

“Research has found that watching too much TV caused illiteracy in children.”

“A scientific study has concluded that Hobbits did exist as a separate race and not just in Middle Earth.”

“A 40-year study of almost 1,400 men found drinking a little alcohol regularly boosted longevity.”

“Those who feel in a good mood because it's a sunny day are able to remember less well, according to memory tests carried out by Australian researchers.”

And….where does all this funding come from?

Forty odd years ago, when I left University, my first job was doing research in the telecommunications industry. It was 1968 and it was ‘real’ research and development. (R&D). There were projects into ‘speech recognition’, ‘character (text) recognition’ and there was a development for a ‘video phone’.

When the funding dried up, the research just stopped.

Of course, nowadays all these things we developed then, are now common place.

So what is the latest ‘hi-tech’ study up too?

“Cats interrupt contented purrs with an annoying whine in order to get what they want from their owners, researchers from the University of Sussex found.”

What can I say?

I know....... I have a follow-up study that they could carry out.

Why, when I put a bit of old carpet down in the garden to kneel on, and then go back to the shed for the trowel and bucket……..do I get back to find all the cats sitting on it?

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Or perhaps they would like to do a bit of research into why dogs wag their tails when they are pleased to see you?

I feel a ditty coming on!

There was a Dachshund once so long

You haven’t any notion,

The time it took for its tail

To register emotion.

Thus when its eyes were brimming o’er,

With tears of grief and sadness,

Its tail would still be wagging on

Because of previous gladness!

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"A Green Pee"

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The locations of four new "eco-towns" have been announced as part of scaled-down government plans.

Housing Minister John Healey said radically redesigning housing schemes could lead to a higher quality of life.

The towns would include smart meters to track energy use, community heat sources and charging points for electric cars. Parks, playgrounds and gardens would make up 40% of their area.

Affordable homes would take their energy from the sun, wind and earth, with residents able to sell their surplus energy into the grid.

Many of these schemes are unsustainable, and unpopular, but Gordon Brown wants to impose them from Whitehall irrespective of local opinion.

Conservative shadow housing minister Grant Shapps said,

"All the low-flush toilets in the world, can't make dumping a housing estate on green fields somehow eco-friendly."

So what we need are some eco-friendly loos…..how about these?

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A garden centre has come up with this idea. The report said,

"The men's urinals are shaped as orchids and hollyhocks, while the basins in the ladies are shaped as huge flowers."

My question is......are the above the basins for the ladies?...in which case where are the taps?

or......

I don't belieeeeeve it!

And as I have already lowered the tone of this post to 'toilet humour'...

At a cabinet meeting someone farted and Gordon Brown said who's going to claim that. Everyone put their hand up before they realiized what they were claiming for.

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The Rain it Raineth

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If the old proverb is correct, the rain yesterday on St Swithin's day means we are in for 40 more soaking days.

According to the legend:

"On St Swithin's day if thou dost rain,

For 40 days it will remain,

St Swithin's day if thou be fair,

For 40 days it will rain nae mair."

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I did a Google for 'song' + 'rain'......and got 39 million hits!.......but I did find a site that listed songs by subjects and this gave me 775 titles! However I like to choose titles from my collection and in fact all sheet music on this blog has come from 'my little bottom drawer'.

So......who was this 'Saint'?

I'm sure the Church will have had a clear-out and I don't expect that he still is a 'real' Saint.

But.......

St. Swithin was an early Saxon Bishop of Winchester who died in 861 AD and legend says that as he lay on his deathbed, he asked to be buried in the common graveyard, “where the rain would fall on him and the feet of ordinary men could pass over him.” For nine years, his wishes were followed, but then, the monks of Winchester attempted to remove his remains to a splendid shrine.

The work began on July 15th, but it couldn’t be finished then, or for many years afterwards. Torrential rains prevented it on the first day and these continued for forty days and forty nights.

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Records show that since 1861 there have never been 40 wet days following a wet St Swithin's Day - although the summer of 1985 came close with records showing rain in Luton for 30 subsequent days.

Oddly enough, while most of us would rather not see rain on July 15th, apple-growers hope for it on this day, as well as on the feast of Sts. Peter and Paul (June 29) for it is believed that the saints are watering the crops. If they fail to do so, the apple-crop will be a poor one. Furthermore, no apple should picked or eaten before July 15th and all apples growing at this time will ripen.

And a ditty to finish...

The rain it raineth every day

Upon the just and unjust fella,

But on the just the most, because

The unjust’s got the justs’ umbrella!

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"Loafing About"

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Have to go out today, so just a couple of ditties from my box of 'Ridiculous Rhymes'.

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The baker girl was kneading dough,

And whistling softly, sweet and lough.

Yet ever and anon she’d cough,

As though her head were coming ough!

“My word!” said she, “but this is rough;

This flour is simply awful stough!”

She punched and thumped it through and through,

As all good bakers always dough!

“I’d sooner drive”, said she, “a plough,

Than be a baker, anyhough!”

Thus spake the baker kneading dough,

But don’t let on I told you sough!

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"Do you want to give my loaves a squeeze?

There was a young fellow of Acre,

Who took off his hat to a Quaker;

When the pretty girl said,

“You are very well bred”

He replied “ Well you see, I’m a baker !”

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