"Eat, Drink and be Merry"

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Do you know - (OK, a silly question - of course you don‘t) - that I have probably spent the best part of the last twenty years trying to lose weight?

It must have been around 1992 when I went the quacks because I had rediscovered the delights and problems that I had had as a child - namely asthma. My poor Granddad suffered terribly, and I can remember him puffing away in the wood shed on so called ‘Asthma cigarettes’ and probably making things worse for him. 

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A Smoking Gradpa toy.

I guess that asthma, like our long noses, must have ‘run’ in the family, as without fail, after a compulsory ‘cross-country’ five mile run, I would be off school for at least two days, wheezing and puffing and forced to inhale, from under a tea-towel, a hot vapour, known in those days as ’Friar’s Balsam’. 

Of course, as a child I had visions of this sly monk brewing up a foul mixture in this vast iron pot in a remote monastery way down in the West Country.  Later in life, maybe ten years later, I was to enjoy a totally different and most pleasurable liqueur from a monastery, not in Devon, but from Normandy in France, known as Benedictine.

The brew from the Devon Benedictine Abbey was just a ‘tonic wine’.

Never mind, still a good reason to enjoy a visit to the Abbey in Buckfastleigh, Devon. 

A travelling friar named Phipps,

Called at Heaven on one of his trips.

He quickly sold God

Ten penn’orth of Cod,

And St. Peter - two penn’orth of chips!

Enough of tonics, back to foul medicine.

For asthma, there was also this horrid concoction called ‘Liqufruta’ tasting of liquorice (which I love) and garlic which, (thanks to ‘Liqufruta Garlic Cough Medicine’) I cannot bear to this day. (Sorry ladies.)

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True! It's used for killing Vampires!

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Another ‘smelly’ thing Mom used on us was Vick. It was supposed to ‘open the nose’ and ‘sooth the throat’, but we boys could never understand why it was rubbed on our chests?

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Pam Ayres was also a devotee -

I’m sitting on the sofa,

By the fire and staying in,

Me head is free of comfort

And me nose is free of skin.

Me friends have run for cover,

They have left me pale and sick

With me pockets full of tissues

And me nostrils full of Vick.

I expect it all helped, but strange as it might seem, after getting into my teens and enjoying cider, girls, beer, real ale and more girls, the ‘tight-chest-iness’ (and choir-boy voice) disappeared.                

So for thirty years from then, I had been ‘wheeze-free’ and Doc free. **

**(As an aside, and this is perfectly true, I had been down here in Bucks for nigh on thirty years, and my registered  Doctor had been a hundred miles away back in Kings Norton! The anomaly was discovered when my dear old Dad went to see Dr. McCulloch, and he enquired as to how ‘young’ Bernard was, as he not seen him for some time. Dad of course revealed my whereabouts and it was then that I then had to register with a local doctor.)

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Doctors, dentists and checkups; not something I actually look forward to. 

I went for my routine check-up last Tuesday and everything seemed to be going fine until he stretched on a surgical glove and stuck his index finger up my backside! 

Woops, I thought. It’s about time I found myself a new dentist!

But seriously, I did receive a good, but unwelcome, check-up.

And I thought I was Doc free!

But all good things come to an end.

Doc did give me an ‘inhaler’, BUT he also checked my heart, my liver and my triglycerides, my blood pressure and my credentials, all my bits & pieces and cholesterol levels as well. 

I was caught, ‘Hook, line and sinker.’ 

Once ‘they’ have got you they never let go! 

So now in addition, I also take these blood-pressure pills, water-pills and things called Statins! 

I was also then instructed to lose weight.

Then, when I told him I couldn’t stop singing 

'The Green, Green Grass of Home', 

he said I probably had ‘Tom Jones Syndrome‘.

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"Is it common?" I said.

“Well,” he replied,

"It's Not Unusual."

A low fat diet was called for, I was told.

Well, I’ve been on skimmed milk (0.1% fat) for 20 years now. Haven’t lost an ounce!

I don’t use butter or any other ‘spreads’. Haven’t lost an ounce!

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I don’t eat any cakes, sweets, choccies or biscuits. (except of course Jan’s Cookies).

And - you’ve guessed. Haven’t lost an ounce!

No chips or fried foods, in fact, years ago I actually gave away my frying pan.

And drink? They always ask you about that don’t they?

“Let me see your hands.” the doctor said. “Mmm, they are a bit shaky.“

“Do you drink much?”

“No,” I said. “I spill most of it.”

And then of course he asked about smoking and exercise.

Well, I have never smoked. 

No, never.

“What never?” He enquired. 

No! Not never.

“Not ever?”

(Sounds a wee bit Gilbert & Sullivan here.)

Well, maybe years ago on a wee pipe that I bought in Austria.

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But not for the last forty years.

However, when I was a lad smoking was not considered bad for you. In fact there were these adverts like this one encouraging it to help you lose weight.

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“And exercise?” He enquired.

Well, every morning I begin by standing on a comfortable surface where I have plenty of room at each side.  Then with a 5 lb potato bag in each hand I extend my arms straight out from my sides and I hold them there as long as I can.  I try to reach a full minute and then I relax..

As each day passes, I find that I can hold this position for just a bit longer.  After a couple of weeks I move up to 10 lb potato bags.

I then try 50 lb potato bags and eventually I try to get to where I can get to lift a 100 lb potato bag in each hand and hold my arms straight for more than a full minute.

Eventually, once I’ve mastered this, I feel confident to put a potato into each bag.......

Still haven’t lost an ounce.

So he suggest I try a Mediterranean diet.

Now this looks a really interesting diet, apart from the garlic! (Thanks to that ‘aversion therapy’ from Liqufruta.)  

Pasta, olive oil, tomatoes, peppers and wine!

(And always avoid the - miles from the Mediterranean, 

really-bad-for-you, high-calorie Yorkshire Pudding.)

It said preferably drink red wine as it contains anti-oxidants. 

Now I know for a fact, that I have loads of ‘oxidants‘. 

I get them behind the ears, under the arms and around the crutch!

At last I have a cure - Red Wine.

So, last Wednesday I was in Sainsbury’s buying up some bottles of Chianti, Bardolino and Montepulciano….  

Some lovely ‘oily’ fish, and not forgetting, a few red peppers and some olive oil.

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And home grown tomatoes and courgettes.

Word must have got around as when I got home, there were these two women at the door, doing a survey on weight loss. 

They asked what bread I ate, when I said white they gave me a lecture on the benefits of brown bread for a whole 30 minutes!

I think they were just Hovis Witnesses.

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Make ‘light’ of all your troubles, 

and may all your ‘weight problems’ be little ones!

Salute!

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“Measure twice, cut once.”

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A few of you may have noticed a teeny weeny ‘technical’ bit that I contributed to ‘Kath the Quilter’s blog. It was all about measuring an angle of fifteen degrees. I’m sorry that I may have confused a few ladies (and gentlemen), but these mathematical calculations are an every day  occurrence to us engineers. I was good at trigonometry at school and loved anything mathematical. This is a rather unusual piece of marquetry I did as teenager.

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All made from thin wood veneers. I worked to a published plan, 

so I can’t claim it was my design.

Now days if  I am given an engineering problem in the workshop, I sit down and work it all out on paper first. I then work it out a second time, just to be sure. 

My old woodwork master at school used to say, “Measure twice, cut once.”

I’m sure that could also prove true before cutting out quilt materials?

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A part of my collection of woodworking rules.

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Well today I thought that I had better make amends for all this serious stuff and do one of my ‘light-hearted’ posts, just to prove that mathematics and engineering have a funny side too.

  

Here’s a tale for you.

Once upon a time, three Red Indian squaws who were expecting their first children went to the tribe's Medicine Man for a blessing.

He said to the first squaw: "You must obtain the hide of a buffalo and give birth lying on it".

To the second he said : "You must obtain the hide of a bear and give birth lying on it".

To the third he said : "You must obtain the hide of a hippopotamus and give birth lying on it".

After they'd all had their papooses, the first two squaws felt that the third squaw was more blessed because she'd had twins.

They went to the Medicine Man to complain about the blessing, but he said to them : -

"I thought everybody knew that the squaw on the hippopotamus is equal to the sum of the squaws on the other two hides".

This is of course only amusing to those of you who remember from their school days, that the “square of the hypotenuse, is equal to the sum of the squares on the other two sides.”

Groans all round I guess?  This is how one schoolboy found ‘x’!

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But seriously, angles can be interesting.

It was in fact my mother, believe it or not, that got me interested in cutting precise angles. In the 50’s with just us three boys, things had to be shared out equally to avoid any arguments and fights. You know the sort of thing; “Aw, he’s got a bigger piece than me.” Well, Mom used to give us a knife and say, one of you can cut the cake up, and the others can have first choice of the pieces!

I promise you that I can, still to this day, divide things into a precise number of pieces.

I can still take piece of wood, and cut it into say three or five perfect pieces without a rule.   

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And some metalworking rules.

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I have to admit that I passed all my Maths papers at O level and A level, but I did start to struggle a bit when studying engineering at university. 

Boy was it hard! No cutting cake into equal segments there! 

I remember one day hearing about these two engineering students who were cycling across the university campus when one said, "Where did you get such a great bike?" The second engineer replied, "Well, I was walking along yesterday, minding my own business, when a beautiful woman rode up on this bike, threw it to the ground, took off all her clothes and said, "Take what you want." 

The first engineer nodded approvingly and said, "Good choice; the clothes probably wouldn't have fitted you anyway."

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Wonderful old bike!

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All engineering graduates just love mechanical things.

That is not to say that there were not other things in our curriculum.

We did manage to find time for ‘liquid refreshment’ of course, but even then, we were not detached from engineering.

You see,

To the optimist, the glass is half-full.

To the pessimist, the glass is half-empty.

But to the engineer, the glass is twice as big as it needs to be.

But as you can imagine, after a ‘few jars’ of Mitchell & Butlers best, anything could happen. 

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"Oh! Go on! Give us a kiss."

In those days many a good tale was told in the ‘Slug & Lettuce’.

I had an engineering friend on my course, who recalled how he was crossing the Bristol road one day, when a frog called out to him and said, "If you kiss me, I'll turn into a beautiful princess." He bent over, picked up the frog, and put it in his pocket. The frog spoke up again and said, "If you kiss me, I'll turn back into a beautiful princess and stay with you for one week." My mate took the frog out of his pocket, smiled at it and returned it to the pocket. The frog then cried out, "If you kiss me and turn me back into a princess, I'll stay with you for one week and do anything you want." Again, he took the frog out, smiled at it and put it back into his pocket. Finally, the frog asked, "What is the matter? I've told you I'm a beautiful princess and that I'll stay with you for one week and do anything you want. Why won't you kiss me?" My friend said, "Look, I'm an engineer. I don't have time for a girlfriend, but a talking frog, now that's cool.

So here I am today, a garden full of frogs and hedgehogs, a workshop full of angles, tools and machinery and not a ‘girl’ in sight!

Which reminds me, talking of ‘girls & sight‘.

The other day I was coming back up the road from the shops, with a ‘chicken motive’ tie I had bought for 50p from the local Hospice shop, when I saw this glass eye fall from a window above.

I just managed to catch it before it smashed on the pavement. I looked up to see where it came from, just in time to see a young woman looking down.  

"Is this yours?" I asked. She said, "Yes, could you bring it up?" So of course, as she couldn’t see very well, I agreed. 

After puffing up a flight of stairs, she was profuse in her thanks and she offered me a drink. As she was very attractive, I agreed. Shortly afterwards she said, "I'm about to have dinner. There's plenty; would you like to join me?" 

As I was a near-starving-pensioner, I readily accepted her offer and we both enjoyed a lovely meal. As the evening was drawing to a close the lady said, "I've had a marvellous evening. Would you like to stay the night?" 

Of course I hesitated, I had Wesley to feed, so I said, "Do you act like this with every man you meet?" 

"No," she replied, "only those who catch my eye."

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Well by now you must be thinking that poor old Uncle Bernard has gone completely ‘off his trolley’. 

You could be right, but don’t forget it takes one, to recognise one, or so I believe?

But, during my last visit to my  doctor, I asked him, 

"How do you determine whether or not an older person should be put in an Care Home?"

"Well,"  he said, "we fill up a bathtub, then we offer a teaspoon, a  teacup and a bucket to the person to empty the bath."

"Oh, I understand," I  said. "A normal person would use the bucket, because it is bigger than the spoon or the teacup." 

 "No" he said. "A normal  person would pull the bath-plug out!

And, then calmly handed me an application form!

And talking of trolleys, this is what I have been making this last week.

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A super-dooper four wheeled Organ trolley with pneumatic tyres!

(And yes, the handle is/was an old 'rolling-pin.)

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Rub-a-dub-dub. Two in a Tub,

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Hose pipe bans again?

It must be that time of the year I guess.

We are continually told that it is due to lack of rainfall, but I recon it is more likely due to an increase in the population, especially here in the south east of England. I expect we will all be asked, in a week or two, to ‘share a bath’ or more likely ‘share a shower’.

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There is actually a ‘Share a Shower’ campaign with Facebook pages. (whatever that means?).

Way back in the ‘good old days’, sharing baths and using second-hand bath water was quite normal. In the late 40’s, early 50’s most people were a bit hard up and it cost quite a few bob to use the immersion heater to fill a bath. Friday night was bath night and us three boys all piled in together. I was the eldest and as I grew larger there was not room for three so my two brothers were washed first and I had their second hand water!

The Great Western Railway had an engine named “The Knight of the Bath”.

This was always nicknamed “Friday Night” by the engine drivers.

So where is all this leading?

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Well, I was going to do a post on ‘Bubbles’ as in ‘I’m forever blowing bubbles’ but found I had already done one here.

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Two and a half years ago! How time flies.

You see, on sorting out all my old photos I had come across a picture of a wee carving I had done of a seahorse. It was done in about 1976 and I gave it away to my then ‘girl of the month’ who thought it really nice. It didn’t have a stand and she asked it I could make one with the words ’Oh Bubbles’ on the base.

The things us chaps have to do to keep you ladies happy.

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I was glad I found the picture - it brought back happy memories.

And there were even more memories of those days as I sorted out my collection of old LP’s. To make more room, I am gradually converting them to CD’s and giving the old records to the charity shops (and brothers to sell on eBay).

Some of these discs haven’t been ’given a spin’ for thirty years, but of course sounded as good as new. The one that did make me smile and gave me the idea for todays wee video was Meri Wilson singing ’Rub-a-dub-dub, two in a tub’.

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See, there were even water shortages way back in 1977.

As children the words used to be along the lines of -

“Rub-a-dub-dub,

Three men in a tub,

And who do you think they be?

The butcher, the baker,

The candlestick-maker,

All put out to sea.”

So, here we go, for your entertainment and maybe approval, Meri Wilson singing ’Rub-a-dub-dub’.

Any resemblance to Uncle B in the following is pure coincidence.

(Oh yes, and no blowing it up to full size for a better view!)

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He,he,he.

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"Ee bah gum. I loves a bit of history."

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Just before Christmas, I had an email from Sylvie telling me about how she had found an old song by Gracie Fields. 

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Sylvie said -

“When I was a child,  ’Fanny Fernackerpan’ was used as a kind of jollying-up name to get me to do something but I never realised it was a song, until a few years ago, I came across – something – an old magazine, perhaps, which had it printed out in a song format.”

So, before searching through my piles of sheet music, I thought I would google ‘Fanny Fernackerpan‘ and see what turned up. It appears there were several different spellings of this name, but all referred to either the Gracie Fields song or old 1930‘s expressions for being ‘finicky‘, ‘pernickity' or as Sylvie said more politely, 

‘Move your a**e’.

Now here are two old words you don’t often come across,  but our Mom was always telling us boys not to be so finicky as we poked around in our kippers looking for the smallest of bones!

My dictionary tells me -

finicky ['f?n?k?], finicking

adj

1. excessively particular, as in tastes or standards; fussy

2. full of trivial detail; over elaborate.

And what about pernickity? 

Well, digging deep into my Scottish Dictionary -

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Yes, I have a 'English-Scottish' Dictionary.

"pernickity"

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"She's far owre pernickity."

But back now to Fanny, or Fan.

Someone on the web said -

I vaguely remember Fan Fanackapan; I think it was my great aunt who used

it. I have to admit I always took any of these phrases used on me as

telling me I was being a ‘pain in the behind‘.

Another tells us -

Fanny Fernackepan has always been used in my family to get the attention of somebody who had wandered off from the group when we were out as in - 

"Oi Fanny Fernackerpan! Over here!" 

Now to find the name in a Gracie Fields song.

It didn’t take long to unearth it, as the name was actually in the title, but not a Fanny Fernackerpan, more a Fred.

The title is “Fred Fannakapan” 

and it was written and composed in 1932 by Reg Low.

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Gracie Fields sang and recorded this comic song, which is about a sister's new fiance who had been invited round to the family home for everyone to scrutinise  the poor fellow.

Can you just imagine going round to your girlfriend for tea, when all of the girl’s relations turn up to give you ’once over’? 

As with many sayings the general opinion seems to be that the name pre-dates the Gracie Fields' song, but no-one seems to know when it originated.

During my searching I also uncovered a poem by the late Spike Milligan.

"I am a mystery goblin. 

I'm Fred Fernackerpan. 

I wear one sock that's yellow, 

the other dipped in jam. 

I walk about the countryside, 

I walk about the town. 

Sometimes with my trousers up, 

and sometimes with them down. 

And when they were up, 

they were up. 

And when they were down, 

they were down. 

And when they were only half way up. 

I was arrested."

And here is a lovely old recording from 1932.

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Gracie sings Fred Fannakapan
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And if you want to 'sing along' -

FRED FANNAKAPAN 


There's been a bit of bother through our sister Mary Ann,
She had a sweetheart and his name was Fred Fannakapan.
She said, “I'll ask him home to tea, he'd love to look around,“
So all our family turned up to see what she had found.


There was Father and Mother and sister Mary Ann,
All waiting to welcome Fred Fannakapan.
There were Uncles and Aunties and others of our clan,
All waiting to welcome Fred Fannakapan.


Round the kitchen table they sat twiddling their thumbs,
When they heard the door bell ring they all said, “Here he comes.“
Father said “You look a gump, the same as Mary Ann,
Sit down and make tha-self at home, Fred Fannakapan.“


The family then questioned Fred as fast as they could speak,
How much he'd got in bank-book and how much he earn’d a week?
He didn't say a word, so Father said, “It seems to me,
The poor gump’s proper poorly, let him have a sup of tea.“



There were pancakes and pork pies and plates of beef and ham,
All waiting to welcome Fred Fannakapan,
There was cold tripe and trotters and lots of bread and jam
All waiting to welcome Fred Fannakapan.


Fred sat there without a word, as mournful as can be,
Mother said, “What ails thee lad, get on and have tha tea.”
He said, “My teeth have fallen out, I dropped them as I ran.“
And the only one who couldn't eat was Fred Fannakapan.


We finished tea and sat there looking like a flock of sheep,
And Mary Ann was so fed up she went right off to sleep.
Then Father said, “We can't sit here like images all night,
Let's have a drink and then perhaps the lad will feel alright.”

There was whiskey and brandy and port wine in a can,
All waiting to welcome Fred Fannakapan,
There was bottled ale and bottled stout, enough to fill a van,
All waiting to welcome Fred Fannakapan.


Then we heard a knock and someone said, “Is Freddy here?
It's eight o'clock and time for you to be in bed, my dear.“
He said, “My Mother's come for me,“ and out he quickly ran,
And that's the last we ever saw of Fred Fannakapan.


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"Ee bah gum. I loves a bit of history."

and a joke!


Fred, a Yorkshire farmer,
went into a jewellers shop in Harrogate.
He was constantly chewing.
The salesgirl said, "Can I help you Sir?"
"Aye" he said, still chewing.
"I'd like one 'o them theer rings".
"Yes Sir, wedding or engagement?"
"Wedding, tha nos", he said, chewing constantly.
"Gold or Silver?", said the salesgirl,
watching him chewing.
"Gold", he said.
"Eighteen Carats?", said the girl.
"Nay lass", he said.
"It's toffee and it's stuck in me teeth".

"Nothin' on t'box t'night!"

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I expect many of you have been saying how, over Christmas, there was "Nothing on the telly worth watching".

I have suspected this might have been the case, for over seven years, for that is how long I have rejoiced for the lack of the 'idiot lantern' in the corner of my room.

Please don't get me wrong....if what they serve up, is what you enjoy, then great - they have a happy customer, but it's not for me.

Over the last ten years, or maybe more, the quality (so I'm told) has gone from bad to worse.

But lo and behold!

All is not lost.

Those glorious days of yore, have been preserved and the humour of yesteryear can still bring tears of laughter to your eyes. If, of course you enjoy, what I enjoyed all those years ago, when I could afford a TV licence!

Twenty-five, maybe thirty years ago, I creased myself up laughing at the performances of the 'Two Ronnies' on Saturday night.

I remember thinking, "Oh, I wish I could record that - just to catch those magical words again.

Ronnie Barker was just so clever with our English language. Then, it was a 'blink and you missed it for ever' situation. But, as I said, all is not lost, thanks to YT and those wonderfull people who have saved these clips. 

They are all there if you go and look.

"Knock and the door will open.

Seek and ye shall find."

There they all were.

Which should I choose?

All brilliant.

Well, I chose, English Country Dancing. (as I cannot forget, from my schooldays - all those big girls bums jiggling about in front of me!) 

And, of course, English Folk Song - as, all these years on, I can still remember all the chords, but not a single line of the words!

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Last night I was watching a program on iPlayer about New England.

So, for all my friends on the t'other side of the pond, we English, are just as eccentric as ever - and enjoying life to the full.

We must enjoy it whilst we can,
 - we only get 'one innings'.

A Tough Choice for a Young Boy.

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When I was at junior school, probably aged nine or ten, we were quizzed as to what we thought we would do for a living when we finally left school.

At that age it was not really a career decision, but I remember all the girls wanting to be nurses and secretaries, and most of the boys wanted to be engine drivers and things like that.

I remembered all this, because the class laughed

when I said I wanted to be a chef!

Well, it never came to pass.

At Grammar school, there were again discussions with career advisors, and being good at Art, I thought I would get into ‘Stage set design’ or maybe ‘Book illustration.

“There’s no demand” they said,

and “Certainly no money to be made.“

“ The future in in technology and especially electronics.“

I enjoyed the art classes. You always enjoy things that you are good at.

Whilst sorting out old photographs from my Grandmother’s house, I found a sketch that I had done when I was nine.

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Granny had kept it all those years.

It was done in ’ball-point’ pen and for a nine year old, not bad, considering that you could not rub out any mistakes, as with pencil.

At Grammar school, we had proper art classes, and guess what?

I was always coming ’top of the class’.

I still have many of my drawings and illustrations from those days.

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Bernard - class 5 a1

Here's a few. I hope I don't bore you.

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And for 'Grey Fergie' lovers -

(complete with rusty staples, at the top.)

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And for any up a Welsh Mountain?

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Moel-y-Myddfa or is it Molly Mithfa?

But my favourite subject was birds.

(in those days - only the feathered ones!)

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Sorry, there are no chickens.

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Close up of the above, Golden Eagle.

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A page of Tits.

(this is not 'page three' by the way!)

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A Peregrine Falcon.

And finally - the dreaded exams!

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Illustration Paper I - Art O Level - 1959 Wed 24th.

Object Drawing Paper III - Art O Level - 1959 Thur 2 July.

Guess what? I passed.

I was torn between what I enjoyed

and what seemed at the time,

the sensible subjects to study.

I opted for Physics, Chemistry and Mathematics.

Well, that choice got me to university and into a well paid job, but I often wonder what would have happened had I decided to take the ‘arty’ route?

In 1968 I ended up here at Taplow Court,

a 'stately home' next door to Cliveden.

It was the home of

'British Telecommunications Research Ltd.'

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Of course I had to do a picture.

A 'scraperboard' from 1968.

I was there for nearly 20 years.

Perhaps I'll write up about them one day.

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Prize Winning Model Aeroplanes

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At last I have found a use for this

very unusual piece of music from the 1930's.

As some of you may already know,

my Dad was in the RAF during the war.

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(Wish I had my Dad's good looks.)

He was a maintenance engineer on ground crew,

and as far as I know, he never got round to

learning to fly.

He went up on the planes for 'test flights',

and once told me how he was involved

in 'target towing'!

His job was to sit in the rear of a Westland Lysander and wind out a wind-sock behind the plane. The gunners on the ground would take pot-shots at the wind-sock for practice!!!

I understand, they used blanks rather than live ammunition.

Whilst in the RAF he got into building model aircraft in his spare time. Some were made out of Perspex and some from solid brass.

These were not meant to fly, they were more of the sort of thing, to sit on the mantle-piece at home.

After he got 'de-mobbed' I remember him coming home with this huge model aeroplane kit.

It was a flying model of a Lysander, similar to the one he did the 'target towing' in.

The war must have ended before he got round to building it.

It lay there, up in the loft, for probably twelve years,

before he thought I was good enough to build it.

Well I did, and the finished model won First Prize

in a Model Engineering Exhibition.

(Yes Helen, I still have the certificate somewhere!)

I also know there is a photograph of the finished model somewhere,

although I have still to track it down in Dads vast hoard of old pictures and negatives.

What I did find however, were a couple of pictures of other models I built way back around 1958. (I was sixteen then.)

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A four engined Handley Page Halifax.

(This model won the First Prize the following year.)

After this I was banned! (Only joking.)

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Another picture of the Halifax,

this time with a model Hurricane.

We even had a "Workshop Manual".

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(This is actually a spoof for Angus!)

About sixteen years ago, I took Dad down to Brooklands,

to see the restoration of a Wellington bomber,

which had been recovered from the bottom of a lake.

There was a bit of a museum there with lots of Vintage bits including this Rolls Royce engine from a Hurricane.

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His Baby!

Dad knew where every 'nut & bolt' came from,

even after fifty odd years!

I could probably write a book on all the goings on

connected with aircraft. Brother Colin took up flying and even now my nephew Owain represents Britain in the Microlight flying competitions.

But what started me on this rambling old blog,

was when, on one of my riverside walks, I noticed a chap flying a radio controlled model aircraft in the 'regatta' field where I had been playing a couple of weeks earlier.

From here down - is now OUT of DATE.

Now take a peek at this.

He has a wee camera under the planes wing, and using an electric motor,

it is powered up to a couple of hundred feet and then it glides around filming.

The motor runs for about 30 seconds at the start.

As it glides around, you can see terrific views of the Thames, Cookham and even Bourne End in the distance.

JUST MY LUCK.

After all this effort - the chap has closed his

YouTube account!

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Sometimes I think I'll just give up!

Sorry. This has made a right mess of my blog.

This is the sort of thing us brothers could have only dreamt of, all those years ago when we were young 'aero-modellers'.

And just to finish.

One of those trees in the arial shots is no more.

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It blew down into the river a couple of weeks ago.

A week earlier I was standing just yards away

playing the organ on a similar windy day.

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