Sweet Fanny Adams

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Why is it, that the name Fanny, short for Frances, is found so amusing?

I had an Auntie Frances, although it was shortened to Auntie Fran rather than Auntie Fanny! There have been quite a few famous ladies called Fanny.

First off there was Fanny Brice (1891-1951).

She was a popular and influential American comedienne, singer, theatre and film actress, who made many stage, radio and film appearances but is best remembered, although not by me, as the creator and star of the top-rated radio comedy series, The Baby Snooks Show.

Secondly, there was someone I do remember….Fanny Cradock.

I didn’t know that was not her real name.

It was Phyllis Nan Sortain Pechey (born Feb. 1909, died Dec. 1994).

She was an English restaurant critic, television cook and writer who mostly worked with John "Johnnie" Cradock, whose surname she adopted long before they married.

In earlier years her husky voice and larger-than-life personality lent itself to mimicry: most famously, on the 1960s BBC radio comedy shows, Beyond Our Ken and Round the Horne, where Betty Marsden could regularly be heard in the guise of "Fanny Haddock".

She and Johnnie would be parodied by The Two Ronnies, Benny Hill (with Benny as Fanny and Bob Todd as an invariably drunken Johnnie).

Fanny's life has also been the subject of two biopic dramas;

“Doughnuts like Fanny's” written by Julia Darling and “Fear of Fanny” written by Brian Fillis.

The former of the two was later renamed “Fanny Cradock - The Life and Loves of a Kitchen Devil”.

What has this all got to do with music, I hear someone ask?

Not a lot….but just a little.

I have a song by Paddy Roberts which goes:-

Sweet Fanny Adams, was beautiful, blithe and gay,

She carved her name on the trunk of an apple tree, one, fine day.

A Woodpecker soon got busy, and pecked all those letters away.

Now all that is left of our Sweet Fanny Adams is sweet, F A.

Now unfortunately I do not have the sheet music for this one........

.........so I'll remind you that we should not only keep our blogs clean

.....but also Britain!

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BT's New definition of "Evening"

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Yes...... but not till after SEVEN O'Clock.

Look what I've just had from BT.

"We'd also like to make you aware of some changes to our prices, terms and conditions, effective from 1st April 2010. These include changing what we define as the evening call period for all types of calls: at the moment from 6pm-6am, but changing to 7pm-7am. For more details about this change, as well as changes to our call set-up fee and daytime rate, please see below.

Thank you for being a BT customer. "

Don't you just love them. Tight fisted B******'s.

I suggest you pass this around before you get caught out.

"Flash, Bang, Wallop"

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'Old it, flash, bang, wallop, what a picture

What a picture, what a photograph

Poor old soul, blimey, what a joke

Hat blown off in a cloud of smoke

Clap 'ands, stamp yer feet

Bangin' on the big bass drum

What a picture, what a picture

Um-tiddly-um-pum-um-pum-pum

Stick it in your fam'ly album

When I first started these blogs all of the images were scanned into the computer, as then I didn't have a digital camera.

All my life I had managed with a roll film camera and only since blogging could I see the advantages to go digital.
Well, it was back in March last year that I went over to PC World to get a printer cartridge and what did they have on offer?...Yes, a nice Canon Digital...£100 off!
So, a whole new world suddenly opened up.
I was just thinking what my grandfather would have made of all this. About 100 years ago he was a chemist working at his shop in Stirchley, near Bournville. He was a keen photographer and one of the cameras he used, has been passed down, via my father, to me.

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So, without having to develop a film... and then from the negatives get prints, I can in minutes show Grandad's old camera and a rather small pic. of grandad himself.

I have quite a few old family photos but I have no idea how many were taken using this old plate camera.

My father carried on the interest in photography, being an active member of the Bournville Camera Club at Cadbury's.

His first camera was a Zeiss Icon and, on acquiring a new Minolta he passed the 2 1/4" square Zeiss on to me. I used it for many years, it had an excellent lens and produced some good images.

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The above shows the old Zeiss with a picture of my Grandmother on the left and my Great-Grandmother on the right.

I'm sorry about the reflections. I will take them out of the frames and show you better copies another day.

I then moved on to a SLR 35mm Pentax and now......a wee Canon, no larger than a bar of Cadbury's chocolate.

What would my grandfather have made of this 'new fangled technology'?

I'm in the Top Class!

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This week on telly I saw a ten minute clip on Bournville. They just skipped around the most popular parts but I did get a glimpse of my old junior school with it's magnificent carillon.

I was at school here until I was eleven.

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Bournville green as I remember it circa 1950.

To the right of the door (in the picture below) was the Head-masters study. You only went in there to 'get the cane' if I remember rightly. On the floor above was the library, and all I can remember about this room is it was where you went to have a medical check-up or to be give a vaccine. We were given something for TB on a cube of sugar if I remember correctly.

And then we come to the top floor under the bells. This was where the 'top class' was taught.

I am not joking. Class 1 was in the tower under a Mr Morley. I can remember sitting next to Alan Morley, his son and in front of me was David Mortiboys. Now David's mother and my mother were friends. I think they both worked in the same office at Cadbury's. The strange thing is they both became pregnant at the same time, ended up in the same nursing home and David was born on the 2nd of September and I followed on the 3rd. Mom used to tell me stories about us getting mixed up as babies! So I might be David and he might be me!

No, they got us sorted out right in the end. We even went off to Grammar School together and I have a photo of us both somewhere. I must look it out.

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The bells struck the quarters as well as the hours. Lessons had to pause during the strike.

Behind a wooden partition at the back of the class was the room where the 'carillonneur ' could play tunes manually. There were recitals on Sundays, weddings on Saturdays and of course Carols at Christmas singing on the Green to see in New Year.

A Carillon is not a type of bell, but a set of fixed bells. The hammers are attached to a keyboard which is played by one man (a carillonneur) who wears leather gloves because of the great pressure required to push the keys.

They are found in many countries. Belgium (the home of the carillon), Holland and Northern France are well known for theirs.

The most famous is probably that at Bruges in Belgium. Britain has few, although many churches have apparatus for chiming simple tunes. St Nicholas Church in Aberdeen has the heaviest British carillon, the largest of its 48 bells weighing 89 cwt. Eaton Hall has 28 Belgian bells, with the heaviest at 48 cwt.

However one of the best known in the UK is at Bournville School, Bournville Village, Birmingham. This plays 48 notes, the largest being 64 cwt. It is heard by 100,000 people a year when they visit Cadbury Brothers Ltd.

There are quite a few on YT but here is a link to a short clip.

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"A Commonplace Book"?

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Diaries were always popular presents from our Aunties, who were always at a loss as to what to buy us boys. But after 365 days there used to be as much written in it, as when it was bought!

I have never kept a Diary!

However, I have read and enjoyed other peoples, and one in particular was that one written by Edith Holden. “The Country Diary of an Edwardian Lady.”

Edith Holden was born in 1871 in Church Road, Moseley, just a street away from the nursing home where I was born some seventy odd years later. Birmingham had not expanded to the size it is today and places like Moseley and Acocks Green were then, villages in the countryside. It was this surrounding area that inspired her to write her Country Diary.

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What I liked very much about it was her beautifully handwriting and charming illustrations.

Yesterday on Kath's blog, amongst the many comments I came across a reference to a ‘Commonplace Book’.

What could this be?

Is it the same type of thing that I have been keeping all these years? .....My “Journal”.

(All the photos here, will enlarge if you click on them)

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Quite a few years ago I found this old accounts ledger. It was only a couple of quid and so I bought it to use as a sort of ‘literal scrapbook‘ rather than a picture scrapbook or diary.

It gets updated with bits of family history, family recipes, interesting tales, amusing ditties and rhymes……in fact an eclectic mix of goodies. Of course not a patch on Edith's excellent work.

It is all written in pencil I'm afraid.....no spell checkers in those days!

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On the left is a recipe for 'Macaroni with Cheese'. That is my Mothers handwriting but it is written on a note-pad with my Great Grandmothers address on the top. They were exchanges recipes no doubt some eighty years ago.

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I must be 'Going Bananas'

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Now here's a fine old favourite song of mine. Actually, fruit and vegetables feature in quite a lot of early songs. I had thought of doing a single post but it ended up being too long!

I have songs on Marrows, onions, cabbages, carrots and even rhubarb!

Reading the news it appears that a pensioner has not only found a straight banana, but a double straight banana.

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And an old Edwardian post card.

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I'm not sure I get the joke though.

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Market Drayton 17101

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I had several nice comments about my Dad yesterday. Amy (a real niece) asked for more pictures but, I thought, others may not share her enthusiasm.

But since Mom was holding the old box camera in yesterdays picture....here's one of all three of us.

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As I said yesterday, Dad was away most of the time in the Royal Air Force and these pictures taken in 1943 would be when he had a few days leave

He was stationed at various locations during the war, but the one I do remember was Market Drayton.

He was stationed here when I was born and on hearing the good news,

all his mates had a 'whip-round' and collected some money for 'little me'. It was quite common then to give money as gifts because quite simply.....there were no gifts!

No toys......nothing!

"There's a war on don't you know?"

So Dad went to the Post Office in Market Drayton and opened a Savings Account in my name.

Little me with a bank account and only a few weeks old.

And......yes, you've guessed.

I still have that old book 67 years on. No money mind you. Just the book!

Market Drayton 17101.

Lets have a dig around for some music. How about this?

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A Comic Song.....but you can bet that being in the RAF during the War was no laughing matter.

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And I found a little dittie........

My Father, he was middle-class,

Whilst my Mother she was upper.

She always spoke of ‘dinner’,

When my Dad just wanted ‘supper‘;

And when my Grandad used to stay, they never could agree,

‘Cause lower-class old Granpa was a-shouting for his ‘tea’.

So whilst they fought and quarrelled,

And whilst each one argued harder.

All us kids would sneak away,

And go and raid the larder!

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There's an old Mill by the Stream.

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“There’s an Old Mill by the Stream, Nellie Dean”

It was first published in 1905 as "You're My Heart's Desire, I Love You Nellie Dean" . The original sheet music is scored in B-flat major for voice and piano.

It was taken up in 1907 by the British music hall singer Gertie Gitana, becoming her most famous song and subsequently became popular in the UK as a pub song, particularly the chorus (There's an old mill by the stream, Nellie Dean…), which was often sung by itself.

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However, today’s spiel is not about Nellie, I may save her for another day, but about streams.

I live here in Bourne End where a stream joins a river. The stream is the Wye and the river is the Thames. There are various claims as to where the name Bourne End came from. On old maps it is sometimes shown as Bone End and it is claimed this is because of ancient burial sites nearby. I think the most likely reason that it is so named is because it is at the end of a ‘burn‘ or ‘bourne‘. The old English words were ’burna’ and ’burne’, which meant - spring, brook or stream.

Now to go back to where I was “born”!…..Bournville.

Here again we have the word ‘bourn’, but here it is the name of the small stream that runs nearby. The stream actually starts off as Griffins Brook but further downstream is shown as Bourn Brook.

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An early picture in Bournville park.

It was here that the Cadbury brothers set up their chocolate factory in 1879, when Richard and George moved their town centre factory from Bridge Street, off Broad Street, to a greenfield site between Bournville Lane and Linden Road.

The stream (the Bourn) runs west-to-east through the factory site. To this the Cadbury brothers added the French word ville meaning 'town', for it was fashionable at that time for confectionery to be thought to be French or Swiss.

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A 1940's picture of Dad and I in the same park.

Dad was home on leave from the RAF.

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Yo-ho-ho, it's a YO-YO.

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"The yo-yo is set to be this year's biggest playground craze", according to retailers who have reported a ten-fold increase in sales over the past year.

The simple toy, which first became popular during the decade following the Wall Street crash of 1929, is taking off once again as the recession encourages children and parents to turn to "pocket money toys".

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Wiki tells me that "The earliest surviving yo-yo dates to 500 BC and was made using terra cotta skin disks. A Greek vase from this period shows a boy playing yo-yo. (see above).

Greek records from the period describe toys made out of wood, metal, or painted terra cotta (clay). The terra cotta disks were used to ceremonially offer the toys of youth to certain gods when a child came of age—discs of other materials were used for actual play."

The modern version took off in 1929 when an entrepreneur Donald Duncan took over a successful Californian toy company, and started Yo-Yo competitions to encourage the craze.

In the 1940s his factories were making 3,600 yo-yo's an hour and by 1962 the Duncan Company alone sold a record 45 million yo-yo's in the USA – a country at the time with just 40 million children.

Retailers and yo-yo manufacturers are gearing up for 2010 to be the biggest year for the toy since 1998, when nearly four million were sold in Britain – the equivalent of one for every three children in the country.

I had one as a child but can't ever remember seeing a child with one since. I would have thought simple things like yo-yo's, skipping ropes and marbles were far too elementary for today's 'techno-kids'.

I bet you didn't expect some sheet music though?

But there was.....and I have a very rare copy!

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A very young looking Billy Cotton from 1932. It is a bit rude, or I should say suggestive. I expect you know what I mean. I have just found it on YT, here.

You get two for the price of one today.

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There isn't a lot to say about this except that I do have a recording of this on cassette.

Dear me, all these suggestive songs and cards from the 1930's.

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To Kiss or not to Kiss

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I ventured out with a boy last night,

Who I thought that I could trust

But as we walked home, he said with a groan,

I must kiss your lips or bust!

I couldn’t think what to say or do

To preserve my maidenly vows -

So I said “Let’s make it the lips tonight

‘Cos I’m wearing a high-necked blouse!”

The picture is from my collection of Victorian sheet music.

The 'music covers' a hundred years ago were very well presented.

The Victorians always seemed to do everything so well, unlike today where everything is governed by economics.

They were, however, not cheap to buy....most are marked up at 2/- or even 2/6d....not a small amount for a Victorian household.

This one however comes from my 'Blue book'.

Every time Lady Lowbodice swoons,

Her boobies pop out like balloons;

But her butler stands by

With hauteur in his eye

And lifts them back in with warm spoons !

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A Bit of Light Relief

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After all this depressing news......let's have a laugh.

A waiter, whilst waiting for a lady to order, started scratching his bottom.

“Excuse me asking,” said the lady diner, “but have you got haemorrhoid's?”

“No, madam, I’m sorry” replied the waiter.

“Only what’s on the menu.”

An Englishman flew into Sydney airport on his first visit to Australia.

The immigration official spent many minutes examining his passport and then even longer staring at his computer screen. Finally, after about ten minutes, the official looked up and asked, “Have you got a criminal record?”

“No,” the Englishman replied, “I’m afraid not. …

…..I didn’t know it was still necessary.”

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A mother took her ten year old daughter to the doctor.

“Doctor,” she said. “I’m very worried. My daughter thinks she’s a hen and can’t stop clucking.”

“How long has this been going on?” asked the doctor.

“Oh, about five years,” replied the mother.

“Then why on earth didn’t you bring her to see me before this?”

“Well to be quite honest, doctor, we needed the eggs.”

Have a good weekend.

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Something Less Melancholy please.

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"Another melancholic post" Foody said.

Well OK, I suppose she's right. I will have to dig into my joke file tomorrow.

" Have you tried peanut butter yet?" she asked.

Well.. yes, sort... of.

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Toasted up two lovely Tea-cakes.

Now to try this "highly recommended" spread called Peanut Butter.

It was Sun-Pat , Crunchy.

First of all ....it did not spread easily. Chunky, like cold butter straight from the fridge.

Smelled OK, but it did not melt....it did not drip, oooze or dribble. It just sat there in large hard lumps!

Well , let's try it.

Tastes just like peanuts.

Mmmm, I like peanuts, but the consistency of this was more like Polyfilla!

It stuck to my teeth....it stuck my tongue to the roof of my mouth.

Sorry Foody.

I think I'll stick to butter and let it dribble all down my arm and clog up my arteries.

And to look at it reminded me of something one finds in babies nappies!

Which brings me on to something else that happened today. During this cold weather and with all this deep snow, I fixed up a 'litter-tray' for Hazel. (she is nearly eighteen after all) and to save the mess on the floor, I put a few old news papers down as well.

Just look what turned up on the first page!

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Less melancholy perhaps!

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"Mouths full of chocolate-covered cream"

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I’m sorry yesterdays post was a bit brief and lacked a musical link but songs with a chocolate ‘flavour’ are not all that common.

But I did find this in my music chest.

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As you might expect, the papers are full of articles and analysis so I won’t add to it except to say that :-

Cadbury’s are no longer a British company.

Most of the Cadbury’s shareholders who will shortly vote to sell their company are overseas individuals and institutions.

The Cadbury family ceased to own and control it years ago.

The Cadbury Family floated the business in 1962 and it was later merged with Schweppes in 1968.

In this world today, one group of overseas shareholders will sell to a new group of overseas shareholders.

Nobody knows who owns who or what any more.

Sad but true.

And as for British jobs…..did you know that fewer than 10% of its employees work in the UK.

I was part of the Cadbury ‘family’ from 1942 until it was broken up in 1962.

Over the next few weeks I will dig through my archives and relate a few tales that you will not have read about in the news.

The following song was written in 1965 and the words have an uncanny similarity to life today don’t you think.

Everyone's Gone To The Moon

Streets full of people, all alone

Roads full of houses never home

Church full of singing out of tune

Everyone's gone to the moon

Eyes full of sorrow, never wet

Hands full of money, all in debt

Sun coming out in the middle of June

Everyone's gone to the moon

Long time ago

Life had begun

Everyone went to the sun

Hearts full of motors painted green

Mouths full of chocolate-covered cream

Arms that can only lift a spoon

Everyone's gone to the moon.

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Enough said today.

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A Sad End

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But what's in a name?

The real Cadburys died years ago.

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For my first 26 years Bournville was my home and my life.

The Cadbury family were good to us.

"Perchance it is not dead, but sleepeth"

Fond Memories live on.

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"Pursuing Somethin' I'm not sure of"

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As you will have noticed, two pieces of manuscript paper have attached themselves to either side of by blog ......... Badly!

The clefs, both Bass and Treble, have floated off to the left and the right hand piece has tucked itself under the centre script.

I told you HTML was not ‘One of the Strings in my Bow’.

I have never liked those two blank white strips either side. Other bloggers have fancy wallpaper and some backgrounds are a work of art in themselves. Also I can never understand why the centre script section has to be so narrow.

It is like trying to write an essay on a toilet roll.

Some have managed to expand the width of the section but my motto has always been “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it”. So not being a software expert I have not dabbled with the intricacy of HTML.

Software. The word itself conjures up visions of pink fluffy cushions, pillows on a babies cot and a rather feminine feel to things.

Now hardware, yes. Give me a good pile of hardware to sort through any day.

As the ladies, I have noticed, all seem to have mastered this ‘black art’ perhaps I may get some advice from a passing niece?

So dear friends, if you visited here last evening you may well have found my blog layout looked more like the three wheels on a fruit machine, with me trying one pattern one minute and another the next.

One of my initial concerns about tinkering was “what if I can’t get rid of it?”

Well no worry there, Blogger has provided a big “Remove Gadget” button.

So if you pass by again this evening and see a blur of flashing coloured pattens, -

“Don't be concerned, it will not harm you

It's only me pursuing somethin' I'm not sure of

Across my dreams with nets of wonder

I chase the bright elusive butterfly of love”

This takes me back to 1966 - the early days of courting......

The Song was recorded by many singers, including Cher, Glen Campbell Val Doonigan and Petula Clark.

My favourite was Dolly Parton and I still have an LP of hers with this track. But as the song was written by Bob Lind, here is a YT clip from 1966 as I remember it. (Before Foody was born I expect).

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Elsie Carlisle

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I am hopeless at this HTML lark. I thought I had lost this YouTube clip but it had ended up on Tracker-bar instead.

As you can see the song is from 1934 and I notice came from a shop in Dorchester. This must have been lying around in someone's piano stool for seventy years before I came across it in a second-hand bookshop in Swanage.

So now we have Elsie in the right place, what do we know about her.

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Elsie Carlisle (1896 - 1977) a popular English female singer.

Originally from Manchester, Elsie became extremely popular during the 1920s and 30s, recording with many of the big dance bands of the time, as well as solo. She recorded very little after the beginning of the Second World War, and retired from the entertainment industry after about 1946. Her business involvements included interests in ballroom dancing venues in south London, a company manufacturing bar accessories, a pub in central London and a Hotel/pub in Berkshire. She lived from 1939 until her death in November 1977 in her house in Mayfair in Central London.

I have quite a few sheets of songs that she recorded, but my all time favourite is this one below.

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This also dates from 1934, obviously a busy year for her.

The one below is from 1926 in the days when you didn't get colour for your 6d.

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Not a very flattering photo when you compare it to the one on the YouTube presentation.

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Lock 'um Up? or Let 'um Out?

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Published in 1931 to promote "The National League of Hikers" and organised by the Daily Herald. Do you remember the Herald? ......I used to deliver it as a paper-boy, 55 years ago!

You can listen to it here.

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So what has been going on this week?

Well I found out that a former Royal Marine, who became notorious for his naked hike from Land's End to John O'Groats in 2003, has spent much of the past seven years in prison for repeatedly appearing nude in public.

The Telegraph reports that:-

"He was yesterday found guilty of breaching the peace when he walked naked from Perth prison in December after finishing a 12 month sentence for the same offence. Mr Gough was warned he will continue to be jailed every time he steps out of prison without any clothes on.

Mr Gough said he accepted he could "potentially" remain in jail forever and added: "This is about individual freedom."

I can't help feeling that if you choose to live in a society like ours, you conform to the rules of that society. And the same goes for newcomers to our country as well.

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But.....locking him up in prison for the rest of his life.

Do you realise he has, so far, cost the long-suffering British taxpayer around £500,000 in legal-aid fees, court expenses, and the costs of keeping him – largely for his own protection – in the isolation wing of a Scottish prison.

A "Sledgehammer to crack a pair of Nuts", don't you think?

Anthropologists disagree on when humans first started wearing clothes – 100,000 years ago seems a reasonable guess – but broadly concur that for 99 per cent of our history, nudity has been the norm, and that dressing for the sake of decency is an almost wholly modern phenomenon.

And then on the same day in the Daily Fail I see they are trying to reduce the number of people being kept in prison!

"The prison population should be slashed by a third - putting 28,000 offenders back on the streets, according to a group of MPs.

The committee's 200-page report today calls for millions of pounds to be diverted from prisons to programmes aimed at rehabilitating offenders.

Prisons Minister Maria Eagle gave the report a lukewarm response. She said: 'Judges must have the option of prison for persistent, serious and violent offenders. Prison places have increased and will continue to do so to ensure there are enough places for violent offenders.'

I'd rather meet that 'hiker' on the street any day,

than just one of the 28,000 !

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Sorry....More on the Weather

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"Here is the News"

"After more than three weeks of snow and ice and in the midst of the best conditions for winter sports in 50 years, one of Scotland’s best known ski resorts has remained closed for a second day because of too much snow!"

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Then there was this bit by John Hirst, the chief executive of the Met Office.

He was complaining that the recent criticism of inaccurate forecasting obscured their good record.

“The Met Office may not have got it quite right about the latest snowfall but our forecasting saves the UK £350m a year.” He said.

I simply do not believe him. The incorrect forecast for this winter must have cost the country a fortune. Frankly, the Met Office are a joke.

“Of course, we don’t get it right all the time and we’re happy to admit when that is the case. Our recent seasonal forecasts have been disappointing. Our initial prediction that this winter was likely to be ‘mild‘ in the UK is going to be wide of the mark.”

However…..

“Our seasonal hurricane forecasts for the North Atlantic show exceptional levels of accuracy.”

Really useful.?

“We are also renowned for our short-range weather prediction and our climate science, which provides forecasts up to 100 years ahead.”

Dictionary definition of ‘Climate‘.

“ - the average of weather over a period - is a complex, chaotic system which means there are an infinite number of possible outcomes no one of which is any more certain than any other.”

So, just like trying to predict the shape of a snowflake, predicting climate is therefore impossible.

Met Office has been thrown into this politicized AGW fraud. The Met Office needs to be split up with the useful weather forecasting bit and the 'the political, non-scientific, environmental activism’ bit completely separated. They're hopelessly compromised by climate science politics and will always over-state temperatures. I actually think the 'climate science' political part should be shut down completely.

Let's get the real Met Office back to weather forecasting.

“Our services for the aviation industry improve efficiency, allowing aircraft to fly with strong winds behind them and only light winds against, saving an estimated 20 million tonnes of carbon dioxide emissions a year.”

A weather vane would show you that for nothing.

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And then to cap it all I read that...

"The BBC fly staff into Haiti to report on 'the reason why aircraft are unable to land' and are circling Port-au-Prince airport."

OMG

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Uncle Bernard

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"Hello Bloggers Everywhere"

Well in my younger days it used to be "Hello Children Everywhere."

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The idea to post about this came from the fact that I seem to have acquired a load of 'new' nieces who insist on calling me Uncle. Not that I mind in the least....anything is better than 'a grumpy old xxx'.

As children we knew loads of gentlemen who we referred to as Uncles. In fact, we only had two true uncles, one on each side of my parents families. Any of my father's friends who came to the house were respectfully referred to as Uncles.

It was Uncle Jim, never.....Jim !

We had loads of other Uncles, in fact every male member of the family tree, other than Cousins and Grandfathers were called Uncles.

We even had Uncles in comics and books....and of course on the radio.

Around 1954, for generations of children, Saturday morning with Uncle Mac, was one of the great highlights of the week. Although the weekday "Children's Hour" provided rich entertainment for those between the ages of potty and puberty , Uncle Mac's selection of record requests was something very special: you might even hear your name being read out!

And thinking back...the three most requested tunes were, The Laughing Policeman, The Runaway Train and of course I know an Old Lady who swallowed a Fly.

We all knew the words of every verse and would sit there like good little boys (I don't think) and sing along.

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I won't type out all the verses of all the songs; life is too short, but here is a flavour.

The Runaway Train

T'was in the year of '89 on that old Great Western line,

When the winter wind was blowin' shrill,

The rails were froze, the wheels were cold, then the air brakes wouldn't hold,

And Number 9 came roaring down the hill -- oh!

The runaway train came down the track and she blew,

The runaway train came down the track and she blew,

The runaway train came down the track, her whistle wide and her throttle back,

And she blew, blew, blew, blew, blew.

The above song was played regularly on the 'Children's Choice' radio programme that went out on the old BBC Light Programme. Vernon Dalhart was one of the true pioneers of Country music along with his compatriots Jimmie Rodgers, Carson Robison and The Carter Family.

I know an Old Lady

I know an old lady who swallowed a fly,

I don't know why she swallowed the fly,

I guess she'll die.

I know an old lady who swallowed a spider,

That wriggled and jiggled and tickled inside her.

She swallowed the spider to catch the fly,

I don't know why she swallowed the fly,

I guess she'll die.

The song was written by Alan Mills, and the lyrics were penned by Rose Bonne. Probably the best-known version of the song was released on Brunswick Records in 1953, and sung by Burl Ives.

The song tells the story of an old woman who swallowed increasingly large animals, each to catch the previously swallowed animal. There are many variations of phrasing in the lyrics, especially for the description of swallowing each animal.

The Laughing Policeman

I know a fat old policeman

He's always on our street

A fat and jolly red-faced man

He really is a treat

He's too kind for a policeman

He's never known to frown

And everybody says

He is the happiest man in town!

All the above can be found on YouTube.

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I'm Staggered

LOST: One Niece, answers to the name of Kath.

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An awful lot of people put an awful lot of effort in writing and posting up their blogs.

I have come across some extremely interesting and well written ones but do you know they end up with just a few followers and hardly ever a comment.

Then, on the other hand I came across a blog with 874 followers and a mere 47 comments against the last post which had simply described what she carried around in her handbag!

A funny old world.......but it's called 'supply and demand'

So what do we find in this mornings papers?

A woman who records her sleep-talking husbands bizarre pillow talk in a blog has become an internet hit.

In her 'Sleep Talkin Man' blog, Karen Slavick-Lennard says that her mild-mannered husband Adam lives a colourful existence in his dreams.

In the last five days alone, over half a million people from over 50 different countries have read the blog.

His efforts this week include:

"Oompa loompas don't sing in heaven. They tidy up the clouds"

"My vision of hell is a lentil casserole."

"Avocados? You can shove them up your --- as well."

Half a million people!!!....in five days!!!! (and no I'm not jealous, just staggered)

And what do I get up to in my sleep?

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Yes, I'm afraid it's another silly song from 1927.

I wonder, I wonder, I wonder,

I wonder how I look when I’m asleep.

I wonder, I wonder, I wonder,

How do I look when I’m in slumber deep?

Oh tell me, oh tell me, oh tell me,

Please tell me do I smile or do I weep?

I should lay down to rest

With a camera on my chest,

And find out how I look when I’m asleep!

Wesley knows what he looks like.

He can see his reflection in my breadmaker.

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Ahhhhh....the smell of warm bread.

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"Early One Morning"

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The observant among you may have noticed I write this blurb early in the mornings.

I have always been an early riser.

“The early Bird catches the Worm” was one of my Dad’s sayings, and I have also read that “Every one hours sleep before midnight is worth two after.”

But these are not the reasons for my early rising. I do not like lying in bed in the morning. I prefer to get into the vertical position as soon as possible.

I got used to getting up early when working in London. I used to get on the M40 motorway at 6:15 and drive up to Ruislip Tube Station and catch the first train out.

The motorway was quiet and I was often the only person on the train.

Getting into work early (7:30am) meant I could sign out early and be home by five.

Now, all these years on and retired I still do the same. The cats love being fed at five in the morning and when the clocks change I get up at six and they don’t notice any change. It is light in the summer and always plenty to do, but a bit more challenging during the winter months.

This is where blogging has come to the rescue, and hence all this typing is done over numerous mugs (sorry, down south they are beakers!) of coffee.

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Where I do run into trouble is finding the correct picture or worse digging through drawers of music looking for the tune I had in mind.

I file all the music in date order. There is about five years in each drawer, however the problem arises, like this morning, when you have a subject and can’t for the life of you remember which year it was published.

Perhaps it should all be re-filed in subject order.

Oh well, as once again the ’global warming’ covers the front drive which I only shovelled off yesterday morning, re-filing should keep my fingers warm at least.

And what was that music I was looking for?

I've gone and forgotten now!

On a different subject......I have been reading Foody's blog about the awful difficulty she's having in getting to work and keeping warm.

So as a 'Singing Chicken'.....she might like one of these!

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Crafty Ann Duran, took pity on hens left featherless after being rescued from a battery farm.

Chickens lose their feathers after being cooped up in hot sheds at battery farms so she came up with eggs-actly the right answer to keep them warm - hand-knitted tanktops.

Ann told the press,

"The feathers will eventually grow back but until then my jumpers will keep them warm."

Ann, of Neath, South Wales, heard about the featherless birds from friend Dionne Jenkins who saves retired battery hens.

And she roped pals to form the Helping Hands knitting circle - making jumpers for bald chickens across the country.

Just goes to show how kind some people are.

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"I Only Have Eyes for You"

“Standing on the corner watching all the girls go by”.

I have just read that ‘so called ‘scientists have found that a simple test can determine a man's intentions when eyeing up a pretty girl. They discovered - wait for it - that the answer is all in the eyes.

Really, no kidding?

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It went on to say that “If his gaze strays regularly from the face to the body, the prospects of anything more than a brief fling are slim.”

In the £60,000 study, which was carried out with Dr Tom Currie of Tokyo University, ten male and female models were asked to pose in their underwear.

Tests were then carried out on the internet with male and female volunteers each looking at images of models from the opposite sex.

They were asked to rate each model's attractiveness both for a long-term relationship and also for a short-term fling.

First they rated separate images of body and face, before finally seeing and rating pictures showing both.

The results…..

“In both sexes, faces were more important than bodies in determining who the volunteers found attractive overall.”

“Scores for facial beauty were a better predictor of the model's overall rating than scores for bodily attractiveness.”

“The one exception to that is that for men when they are rating for short-term relationships, the actual female body attractiveness becomes more important.”

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So for £60,000 we have been informed that ladies gaze into men’s eyes, whilst men have an eye for 'other parts'.

I could have told you that for nothing!

This young lady has her eyes on her own 'other parts'!

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An 'Instrument of War.'

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Oh no, not the Bagpipes!

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I know....some people love them, others loath them.

I don't mind them....as long as they come in small doses. A march passing by, that sort of thing. I couldn't sit and listen to a 'concert' or whatever they are called.

You don't have bagpipes in your collection do you Uncle B?

Well, no. But I do have a couple of nice practice chanters. You can blow these to your hearts content (and annoyance to the neighbours) without having to worry about squeezing the bag.

They don't let you loose on the Real McCoy until you have had a practice on one of these

I got them in a charity shop some years ago.

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I have opened one up to show the reeds (a pair back to back).

There is the Royal Coat of Arms on the one. Bagpipe Manufacturers to H M The Queen.

The origins of the bagpipe can be traced back to the most ancient civilizations. The bagpipe probably originated as a rustic instrument in many cultures because a herdsman had the necessary materials at hand: a goat or sheep skin and a reed pipe.

The Roman army used to march to bagpipe music. Some historians even suggest that Emperor Nero was a piper himself. The Romans introduced the bagpipes into Scotland. In those days Scotland was known as 'Caledonia'.

In 1745 the Highlanders were defeated during the battle of Culloden by their suppressors, the British. When a piper was arrested the British court decided that bagpipes should be considered as an 'instrument of war.'

A ‘Weapon of Mass Destruction’ perhaps?

Playing the pipes was therefore outlawed as well as wearing a kilt.

But not here in Bournville in the 1950's.

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Yes, we all did Country Dancing at school in those days.

And a close-up for Kath to "send a few pulses racing!" (I don't think)

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And don't ask.....I can't remember!

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