"A feather bed, a wooden leg!",

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When I mentioned the other day,

that I was a bit stuck for ideas, one or two suggested re-posting

some of my older efforts.

This always seemed to me, cheating a bit -

but

as I am a bit stuck, here's one from last year.

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January Man

Being cooped up in the warm is an ideal opportunity to see just what you have got in those old boxes. It’s a nice job in the warm and as Spring seems some way off I was not in the mood for Spring cleaning, although after removing all the decorations there is certainly a need for it.

I had just read all about ‘de-cluttering’. It said.......

“Declutter! Dejunk! Throw away!”

“Go on! Chuck out all your useless sentimental bits and bobs,

and silly souvenirs.

In this digitalised 21st century,

your home should be shiny, bare and minimalist -

like those shown in television commercials and posh property magazines.“

I actually thought the article is itself, a bit of rubbish!

If there is one thing I can’t stand -

it’s a home that doesn’t look ‘lived in’.

Untidy….no. Lived in……yes.

I’m not untidy. I keep all my bits and pieces in boxes.

Usually labelled.

Boxes of old photos, boxes of old musical instruments awaiting repair,

boxes of old postcards and boxes and boxes of old LPs.

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And there I found my old Folk records from 40 years ago. Yes 1970 this record by Dave Goulder & Liz Dyer. I had previously bought the album ‘Requiem for Steam’ and enjoyed Dave's songs very much so I followed it up with ‘January Man’.

Dave is now 72. His birthday was funnily enough 1st January so perhaps that is where the title comes from?

So should I be throwing all this out?

In fact, according to a new survey carried out by YouGov

and a self-storage company, it may even be bad for us,

leading to all kinds of later regrets.

"Should we really have thrown out that box of postcards?

To most of us, the baggage we collect through life brings with it little jolts of memories.

And when we throw out that baggage,

we're carelessly depriving ourselves of those constant reminders of how we reached this point."

No, we need to save something.

My Aunt she died a month ago,

And left me all her riches.

A feather bed, a wooden leg,

And a pair of calico britches.

A coffee pot without a spout,

A mug without a handle,

A baccy box without a lid,

And half a farthing candle.

Is there anything sadder than going into the bedroom of an old person confined to a care home and who now has space for little more than a few photographs?

Well, I have lots of boxes of photographs. Some going back nearly 100 years.

There are quite a few with faces that I do not recognise and I'm sure future generations would not know who any of the people photographed were. So,I have been going through them, writing names on the back and I have decided to try and link all this together for my family, especially the younger ones with a few recollections of those early days.

My new blog project is here.

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In this Sad Life.

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Katherine - "In this Quiet Life"

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Peace

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On "Idioms", "Eponyms" and "Anecdotes".

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I was reading up, and feeling a bit depressed

about these awful floods in Australia,

when I came across this picture.

This cheered me up no end,

especially trying to think up a caption.

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I was going to digger out the music for -

“Michael Roo the Boat Ashore”.

Then I thought you may think …

I had "Kangaroos in my Top Paddock!.“ (eccentric!).

That, I believe, is called a ‘Idiom’.

As is “Takes the Biscuit”.

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I love not only these phrases but, words in general

although I’m afraid they tend to be mainly English words,

as I do not know more than a smidgeon of those from other countries.

Now there’s a nice word - ‘smidgeon‘.

When did you last hear anyone use that?

Or how about the word skerrick?

It was my Gran that introduced me to this one.

“Would you like some more gravy?” she might ask.

“Just a skerrick Nan, thanks.”

Todays words though, leave me cold.

They are complicated, contrived and down right ugly.

They seem to be made up on the spot to confuse

and to show how important the speaker thinks he is.

What, for example, is 'stagflation' or a 'rhetorician'?

The other day I was listening to a talking book.

I much prefer these tapes to books as the old ‘mince pies’ aren’t what they used to be.

Up pops a word that had a nice sound to it - ‘Risible‘.

Stop the tape! Look it up!

Ah, - ‘laughable‘, ‘ludicrous’.

A very useful word in times of politically correct clap trap,

and ‘elf ‘n safety restrictions, don’t you think?

A little further on I was treated to ‘bibelot’.

Mmmm, has a French aura around it. What can it be?

Mais Oui, a ‘small curio’, an ‘artistic trinket’.

(Collins says:- C19: from French, from Old French beubelet ,

perhaps from a reduplication of bel, beautiful)

Fascinating. My house is full of these bibelot‘s.

And books!

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Up, on the top shelf, is a row of dictionaries.

Not French/English or German/English but things like -

The Penguin Dictionary of Historical Slang.

Cassel’s Dictionary of Superstitions.

The Penguin Dictionary of Proverbs.

A Dictionary of English Plant Names.

To name but a few.

Then I have these unusual ones -

Oxford Dictionary of Idioms. (as easy as ABC!)

A Dictionary of Eponyms. (Hoover those up!)

And a Dictionary of Anecdotes. (a brief chronicle?)

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How about:-

“As Rare as Hen’s Teeth.”

or

“It had the aroma of an Arab’s armpit!”

For me, that is just soooo descriptive.

There, are these fellows, wrapped up in towels, riding camels in temperatures well up in hundreds (F of course). Sand as far as the eye can see and no water for hundreds of miles.

When did they last wash their laundry? Or worse still, when did they last shower beneath their armpits?

Is there a name for these?

The phrases that is - not the Arabs!

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"My hat that has three corners"

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I’ve never been one for all this ‘celebrity’ lark.

I’ve never fainted over Abba or the Beatles.

I've never craved the autographs of these blokes who ‘hoof’ footballs into nets.

But I do have my favourites....

…… and one such - is no other than Fred Dibnah.

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Now, folks from around these parts will have heard of him,

a steeplejack from up t’ north from around Bolton.

But here’s a short clip about Fred, for those further a’field.

Not only did I enjoy the programs, but I loved that introductory music.

(There is a snippet at the start of the above video.)

What was it?

Where did it come from?

I did a bit of chasing around and I have uncovered a whole ‘can of worms’.

It is so complicated, that I really don’t know where to start,

or why to even start at all, when all I really wanted was the sheet music,

to see if I could arrange it for the organ.

It appears to originate from :-

“The variations on The Carnival of Venice”.

Paganini was the first to introduce the piece to England — nay, to the whole world, one may say. The great violinist first heard the melody when he visited the Queen of the Adriatic in 1816. No one seems to know who composed it, though many a musician has added to it, and varied it, and embroidered it from time to time.

Here’s a delightful arrangement for flute and harp.

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P.A. Genin: Carnival of Venice for Flute & Harp

Karin Leitner - Flute

Duccio Lombardi - Harp

The Paganini Variations date from 1829 and were dedicated to the Austrian violinist Karl Fradl, who almost certainly never actually played them. They were issued posthumously in 1851 in the version for violin and piano. Paganini himself originally supervised the orchestration of only twelve of the variations, whereas the complete collection actually reached twenty.

Here is another version with some absolutely brilliant playing .

This has been arranged for Wind Ensemble by Denis Bouriakov

(partly based on Hikaru Watanabe's arrangement for flute ensemble).

The theme in question was actually a counter-dance made popular in France by a musician of Italian origins, a certain Cifolelli. The highly catchy tune soon became popular in Germany as a children’s song, where it was known under the title "Mein Hut hat drei Ecken" ("My Three-Cornered Hat"), eventually being played on barrel organs.

My hat that has three corners.

Three corners has my hat.

And had it not three corners,

It wouldn't be my hat.

And lastly, after several days work,

I have managed to arrange it for 26 notes!

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All I have to do now is to punch all those thousands of holes!

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By hand!

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I'm 'Scraping the Bowl' again!

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I know, it‘s been a week since I last posted

but there hasn’t been a lot of activity in this household, of late.

Every day, drab, dreary and usually damp, if not a darn site wet!

I’ve stayed in,

Hazel has stayed in;

Even Wesley has stayed in, which is usually unheard of.

Subjects for blogs are for me, at this time of the year,

not easy to come by, and today,

I have to admit that I am indeed ’scraping the bowl’.

(or should that be 'the barrel'?)

Talking of ‘bowls’, did any of you see this?

I found it on YouTube amongst quite a few vids.

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A ‘Cat Toilet’ - or to be more precise,

a trained pussy using a full size toilet.

It appears you start off with a (special) litter-tray at the base of the loo,

then, after a few days you put the tray on top of the toilet.

Now if, and when, kitty gets used to this, a circular piece is removed from the centre.

This leaves a nice little hole to the water below,

and assuming your cat has a good aim, hey presto!

But if not, all is not lost,

you simply take out the next ring making the hole a little larger.

This process continues until all the rings containing litter have been removed and the cat perches on the seat - and - well you know!

I suggested this to Hazel but she seems totally unwilling to jump up eighteen inches to do what she can quite easily do at ground floor level.

Wesley gave me two fingers and said he much preferred showing off to all the lady cats,

down by the compost heap!

I don’t think dogs are quite as clever as cats,

and most could not be persuaded to try this out.

Just look at this chap! He has no idea what a pussy is really for.

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And now, something for all you incontinent gardeners.

There you are, right down the bottom of the patch,

hoeing away and along comes a ‘call of nature‘.

Now, there is no need to remove muddy boots and wash grubby mitts.

Why not stay where you are and use the ‘Guldkannen‘.

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"A Wee Potty"

It's a handy toilet cum watering can from the Swedish manufacturer, Guldkannan

(those Swede's have always had less inhibitions).

The top has been designed to make it comfortable to sit on

and after you have finished, you can water it over the garden.

Do take a peep at this link,

as there you can see a video of this ingenious container in use on the back lawn!

Click on "In the Wild". (all very decent I promise).

And if you take a toilet roll out into the garden,

make sure there are no Alpaca about.

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It seems they like to swallow these juicy morsels whole!

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ps Up at the start, I used the word 'darn site'.

I am not sure if this is correct?

Is it 'darn sight'? or

or perhaps 'damn sight',

or even 'damn site'?

'Darn' is a shortened form of 'darnation' which in turn is,

a colloquial form of 'damnation'.

Interesting, isn't it?

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Ye Olde Christmassy Eve

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This morning the Sun came out with beautiful clear blue skies.

Not so yesterday when I ventured outside to gaze upon this promised eclipse.

It was completely clouded over!

See even Mother Nature seems to abide by Murphy’s Law!

There is always a downside to most things, and as welcome as the sun was, it did its best to show up all the dust, crumbs, cat hairs and bits of Christmas past.

So I started my spring cleaning early this year.

To start with I took down all the decorations and then thought.

“Oh dam! I wonder if that’s bad luck for the next 360 days, for taking them down early?

I know it is bad luck to leave them up after the Twelfth Night, but surely not everyone can be expected to down the lot on the 6th January, or Epiphany as it’s more correctly labelled.

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I went away to read up on this and found out that today, 5th January is known as Old Christmas Eve. So tomorrow is Old Christmas Day and all us old ’ns can, if we feel up to it, go through the whole celebration again! (not really).

It appears this all goes back to around 1582 actually, and as I was saying in my last post, all these dates are purely relative and have changed, time and time again.

From the time of Julius Caesar, this country used the Julian Calendar. It was based on the sun’s orbit and was much better than the previous system, based on the phases of the moon. But it was not accurate enough and every year was eleven minutes and fifteen seconds out.

So what you ask, who would notice?

Well, that adds up to one day out, every one hundred and twenty eight years.

So once again, as no-one ever reached the magnificent age of 128, it went unnoticed by the serfs and peasants.

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But…..by the sixteenth century, this error had accumulated to ten day too many.

Not many people spotted this in their daily lives, but the Pope did.

Pope Gregory XIII was ‘at the crease’ at the time and at the ‘stroke of a quill‘, lopped eleven minutes, fifteen seconds off the length of a year and deleted the spare ten days!

This was the Gregorian Calendar and was adopted throughout Catholic Europe.

Us stubborn Protestants on this side of the English channel weren’t going to be told by the Pope, what day it was and so stuck rigidly to our Julian calendar.

This meant that Paris was ten days behind London.

We also kept the 25th March as the start of a New Year.

By the time Protestant England came round to adopting this Gregorian calendar we were eleven days out, and so, in 1752, these eleven days were given the chop.

As to be expected, there were riots with people demanding

“Give us our days back!“

Prior to this seismic event England had celebrated Christmas on the equivalent of 6th January.

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And this dear friends, is why today is “Olde Christmas Eve”

and this Olde fellow is just off to hang up his Olde stocking for a second time -

hoping to get those goodies I missed out on, the first time round!

But I may not bother putting up all those

decorations again!

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ps. I apologise to the people of Ireland, Scotland and Wales for no mention, but I found no details of how these plans were implemented in their

respective homelands.

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Last Night I Slept Well

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I was up at five this morning as usual.

Two hungry felines paced up and down the hall as they do every morning.

This morning to them was just like any other start to the day in their little lives.

Last night I slept well.

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I usually have no trouble at all in getting a good nights sleep except for one night of the year - December 31st.

This is the night when half the population tries very hard, and usually succeeds, in depriving the other half of the population of a peaceful nights slumber.

Every year as I reach that last day on the calendar I become more and more upset knowing that after a couple of hours sleep that night, I am going to be woken up by inconsiderate people setting off explosives in their back gardens.

So imagine my surprise and relief, when I found out that I had slept right through it.

Last night I slept well.

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I was also pleased to read on numerous web pages, newspapers and blogs, that I am not alone in feeling this way.

Just to quote one - Peter Hitchens had this to say:-

“And as I am actively hostile to the 'New Year', a celebration of nothing in particular generally encouraged by states which loathe Christmas, I'll try to make no further mention of this empty, insignificant moment, for which non-devotees now have to buy earplugs if we wish to sleep, since the 'New Year' lot seem to think they are entitled to shatter the midnight peace with colossal explosions and high-pitched whistles.”

A “Miserable Toad” my sister-in-law sometimes calls me, but this is no so.

I have absolutely no problem with anybody, anywhere, celebrating whatever they like, as long as their celebrations do not in any way affect other people.

Last night people were celebrating a ‘man-made’ event of little significance to me, namely the hanging up of a new calendar on the kitchen wall.

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Society could have chosen any of the 365 days (approx)

that the earth takes to orbit the Sun, as its starting point..

January 1st is not the longest day.

It is not the shortest day.

It is just one of several standards that we all use for convenience.

For example, the taxman uses April for the start of his year.

If last night, at midnight, people were celebrating one orbit of the Earth around the Sun, they were too early by approximately six hours! It takes 365 and ¼ days for a complete orbit.

However,

allow this Grumpy Old Man to wish you all the

Best of Everything over the next 365 days.

2011 could be a 'bumpy ride' for some.

I hope you all, miss the 'potholes and bumps' !

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