"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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"Give Aunty a Nice Big Kiss"

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“Come on now. Give your Aunty Alice a nice big kiss.”

That would be my Mom saying that, somewhere around 1950.

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Us lads didn’t like kissing, anymore than we liked Cod Liver Oil, but we liked our Aunties.

You see, by giving our Aunty Alice, a boyish peck on her eau de Cologne scented, heavily powdered cheek, it might result in a ‘ten bob note’ being lovingly squeezed through the slot in my money box! In those days that was ‘serious’ money to a young boy. I remember saving up £5 in my money box to buy my first bike. A bike! Just from kissing Aunties. So you see, there might be an ulterior and rather materialistic motive behind me ‘puckering up’ even to this day!

And this day is?

National Kissing Day.  July 6th .

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I’m never quite sure why we have these ‘National Days’. I usually assume it is a commercial thingie, just to sell cards and cuddly bears?

But suppose it was a day, just one day, when you could go out and kiss anyone, (in my case 120% female), without the fear of the charge of an assault being brought.

No? 

Thought not. Just wishful thinking.

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Looking back over time, I can remember my first ‘romantic’ kiss. Well you do, don’t you? In those days it was a case of ‘shall I now?’ or ’shan’t I?’ 

It was a time of ’shall I get my face slapped?’ 

Nowadays it appears to be more like 

‘Hiya honey and hop into bed‘!

We, were young gentlemen then, with short hair and clean necks.

Of course in reality,

“I’ve kissed many girls under many conditions,

I’ve kissed them both with, and without their permissions,

But never a one, for a moment compares

With the one that I kissed, in the dark, on the stairs.”

Not true in my case. 

We were on a train, alone in the compartment, 

coming back from a day out on the Malvern Hills.

I’ll say no more, but I remember it well.

I still have a photo of her, as one in a group, in my youth club day archives. 

Over fifty five years ago!

I’ll leave her there.

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Those were the days when ’lovers’ wrote SWALK on the back of envelopes (and worse)  and children played kissing games like ’Postman’s knock’. In case there is someone not ‘in the know’, SWALK is ‘Sealed with a loving kiss’ and Postman's Knock is a game played by groups of children or teenagers (?) in which one person is chosen to be the "postman", goes outside and knocks on the door. Another person is chosen by the rest of the group to answer the door, and pays for the "letter" with a kiss. Then another person is chosen to be postman, etc. 

It wasn’t a lot of fun in those days for us young budding Conker champions to be kissing girls, but a revival today here in Bourne End library, might get me and the like minded more  interested in ‘Romantic Novels’?

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I think I read about this ‘Kissing Day’ int’ Daily Telegraph, because I’m not a great reader of women’s magazines, except in the doctor’s waiting room, where anything is better that playing the guessing game ‘I wonder what’s wrong with you?

The eye-catching headline was - (here - not in the Telegraph)

‘It's official - the Brits aren't kissing enough!’ 

It continues ‘…..a staggering 95% of young women believe they aren't getting enough’!?

I’m sure that 95% of young men must also be having the same problem, not to mention the 100% of old men!

What's more, ‘nearly a quarter of women (24%) have experienced a kissing drought and gone for over a year without so much as a hint of a kiss.’ 

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Over a year without a kiss.?

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‘The average period of non-lip action is three to six months for nearly a third (30%) of women. The forecast is not so bad for a fifth (21%) of women who don't go any longer than a month without a kiss.’

As there were so many statistics I will not bore you with too many, but it appears that us British, sweep the board with nearly half (42%) of the vote for great at kissing. The Italians - the Casanovas of Europe come in second with 15%, closely followed by the French with 13%.

Probably something to do with the dreaded garlic.

C’est la vie!

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And then at the reverse ‘slobbering’ end, were the poor old Lager swilling, Sauerkraut munching Germans who came top the list of the wurst kuss’rs, with over a third (38%) of the voters saying 999. (“nein,nein,nein“). 

I did a google for facts about kissing, history of kissing, reasons for kissing. All boring stuff. It appears no-one really knows why we alone in the animal kingdom, do it. It appears that animals do engage in kissing-like behaviours but it is not proper kissing. 

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I read that human lips are different from those of all other animals because they are everted, (I checked this out and it means that they purse outward).

I’m sure there is joke in there somewhere about ‘big everted lips‘, but I’m sure you have had enough bad jokes from me lately.

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Songs are, of course, littered with the word ‘kiss‘. 

I found hundreds with ‘kiss’ in the title

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And thousands with the word ‘kiss’ in the lyrics.

But there is still only one song in my collection,

 about a poor old Gnat’s Wedding.

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A bit later, I did a google on ‘Kissing gates’, to get a bit of background info. I was surprised to find that the first page listed Dating agencies - ’Countryside Online Dating’ and ’Farmer’s Dating Site’ - all named ‘The Kissing Gate’!

This is my idea of a kissing gate.

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I had always thought that they got their name from the fact that a young man could steal a kiss from his young lass as she passed through. But no. It appears that the etymology of the name is that the gate merely "kisses" (touches) the enclosure either side, rather than needing to be securely latched.

This ‘touching’ would also explain the term in snooker and billiards where one ball glances off another, as in - ‘a kiss off the black‘.

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I was going to investigate why we put xxx’s on the bottom of letters. I have no idea, but I think I have rambled on long enough. 

I have to admit that I’m not ‘into’ this new continental habit that seems to have caught on over here. 

Cheek to cheek with a complete stranger and making kissing noises into each others ears!

No thanks!

How about a good old fashioned hug?

There's something in a simple hug

That always warms the heart;

It welcomes us back home

Makes it easier to part.

A hug's a way to share the joy,

And sad times we go through,

Or just a way for friends to say

They like you, 'cause you're you.

It's funny how a little hug

Makes everyone feel good;

In every place and language,

It's always understood.

No special equipment needed,

No batteries or parts-

Just open up your arms,

And open up your hearts.

But I’ll let Confucius have the very last word.

“Confucius, he say,”

"Passionate kiss, is like spider’s web....., 

....it leads to flies undoing". 

I hope you all have a lovely dry weekend. 

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Keep smiling!

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Now you see it. Now you don't.

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Sorry to be away from the blog arena for so long, but my monitor is still playing up.

It appears to be sensitive to temperature, (like quite a few of my body parts), and on hot days, it fires up when I switch it on, but when the ambient is below blood heat, it just will not function. (also….my body parts).

I’ve now reached a point along my old tether, when this is no longer a joke. So, on Monday I pointed the Renault in the direction of John Lewis, and made enquires to the ’technical staff’ about a replacement.   I took all the required ‘ITformation’. (DVI, VGA, UMPA UMPAH, stick it up your jumpa lead!)

He assured me everything was all ‘compatable’ these days.

So, I parted with my hard earned pension and came home ready for some boisterous blogging only to find that the connectors pins were completely different!

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Old connector - top.
New - bottom.

I tried, but I just couldn’t get it to work, so I’ve called in an expert called Frank, who is going to pop round next week, and not only sort out the monitor, but also ‘give me a service’.

He tells me that computers, over two years old, need a ‘service’. (he didn’t mention bloggers over sixty, but I’m sure they’re included in the price?)

Talking of ‘monitors’; I was once a monitor at school. I had to give out the pencils.

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To write with that is. 

Not to stick in strange places!

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Another monitor had to give out the ‘rubbers‘ (now called erasers.) 

And then we had ‘Milk monitors’ taking round small 1/3rd pint bottles of milk.

It’s strange how children in those days thought this an honour to be chosen for these menial tasks. 

Because of all my monitor problems, I’ve been missing out on quite a few of the so called celebrations. Our street party wasn’t a great success I’m afraid.

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And I believe ‘her maj’ was heard to enquire, “Is it all over yet?”

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"Can we come out now?"

“Us pensioners do need our afternoon kips you know?”

Didn’t she do well though? Standing up on that barge, surrounded by water, in the rain, for hours, and not needing to spend …. a royal penny!

I saw this in the news a while back. It made me smile.

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I shouldn’t laugh really as my poor old ‘mince pies’ are not all what they should be.

Loss of eyesight is no laughing matter is it. I couldn’t imagine how I could cope without being able to see. I’ve just had a letter from DVLC advising me that I now need to apply for a new driving licence. There were lots of ’medical’ questions including some on eyesight. 

No worries -my distance viewing is fine actually.

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But it reminded me of an old friend of mine called Len, who one day walked into Ann Summers to purchase some see-through lingerie for his wife. It was a  special birthday you see. He was shown several possibilities that ranged from £50 to £150 in price, the more see-through, the higher the price. He opted for the sheerest item, paid the £150 and took the lingerie home. 

He presented it to his wife and asked her to go upstairs, put it on and model it for him. 

Upstairs the wife thought ‘I have an idea. It’s so see-through that it might as well be nothing. I won’t put it on – I’ll do the modelling naked -  return it tomorrow and get a £150 refund and keep the money for myself’. (trusting he had kept the receipt.)

She then appeared naked at the top of the stairs and struck up a pose.   

Wow!

Len lookup aghast.  “Stone me!” he said. “It wasn’t that creased in the shop”.

Talking of spectacles: I’m always forgetting which ones I have got on. I get to walking about with my reading glasses on, and then wonder why I keep tripping over the back door step on the way to water the tomatoes!

I had thought of bi-focals, but at my last eye-test I was recommended to try these new ultra sensitive, hi-tech, all-singing, all-dancing, top of the range, half price for the over sixties, designer-framed specs.  You’ll be able to see everything with these, they said. 

Worked a treat in Boots the chemist.

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Talking of eyesight reminded me of my friend Howard.

He was telling me that last night his wife was standing nude, looking in the bedroom mirror. 

She was not happy with what she saw and said to him, 

 "I feel  horrible; I look old, fat and ugly. 

I really need you to pay me a compliment.” 

 Howard replied, "Your eyesight's perfect." 

He’s now staying with me for a few nights!

Wish mine was perfect. 

But these new specs worked just as well in Smiths the other day.

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Now, the trick here is, that those skirts are actually fabric prints!

I thought it was very well done - artistically of course.

Do you know, it has been 28 degrees in the shade here today (Thursday). 

Wes has been flaked out under the Mulberry tree, 

and I have been doing sweet FA. (Fanny Adams).

But down the road at Bisham Abbey, three of the nuns decided to remove their robes because of the heat. Not an unusual ‘habit’ on a hot day. Anyway, about a half hour later, the door bell rang while their robes were slumped over pews at the rear of their wee chapel.

They asked who it is. "The blind man," a voice replied.

The three nuns decided to simply open the door because the poor man was blind. He walked in, looked at the nuns and said, "You’ve nice breasts! 

Where do you want me to install these blinds?"

Sorry to inflict more poor jokes on you, but after I get my new monitor installed next week, and I get this ‘service’ done, I hope you will find that Unc. B’s “Normal Service will be resumed as soon as possible.”

Take care and don’t forget to -

“Practice safe eating - always use condiments.”

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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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"Pussycat. Pussycat, where have you been?"

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I know. I know.

Where have I been?

It started off with monitor problems.

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"Bugger it" I thought,

I can't be bothered, after all I've got so many

other things piling up in the background.

I expect it is because I use VISTA,

 a 'Visibly Inferior System To Apple's'?

I went back to painting the Organ front.

I needed some indoor jobbies as all it has done

for the last three or four weeks, is rain.

It has not been as bad here, 

as up in the 'Land of the wild and vicious Haggis'.

The weather maps clearly show us

where all the hosepipe bans are in force!

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RAIN MAP % of AVERAGE

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I did hear someone tell a joke the other day,

about Solar panels.

I can't remember how it went, but I did read about this Scottish farmer who woke up one freezing cold morning last week to find his entire herd of cows frozen in the field. Rushing outside, he tried everything he could to revive them without any success.

The farmer was distraught and he was wandering around in a daze when a familiar looking old lady walked past and asked if she could help.

The farmer explained the situation and the little old lady told him not to worry and she would see if she could help.

She proceeded to breathe lightly on each cow's nose and rub gently until the cow started to thaw.

Eventually, the entire herd had come back to life.

The farmer was so overjoyed he offered to reward to old lady but she refused saying she was pleased to have helped.

The old lady started to leave but the farmer called out "If you won't let me reward you, at least tell me your name"

"Thora Hird" replied the old lady.

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See! It's not only wet up there, but cold as well.

(only joking).

Which reminds me, I wonder how Ann is getting on

with keeping her hedgehogs warm & dry? 

I was planting up my tomatoes in the greenhouse the other day,

when I heard a rustling sound from under the bench.

Yes, Mrs Tiggywinkle had woken up.

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Not a very good pic I'm afraid,

but I didn't like to disturb her too much.

I am putting out Wesley's leftovers at night,

and it is all gone next morning.

What other news do I have?

Oh yes, do you remember how Hazel used to

spend hours sitting on her pot(ty)?

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Well I planted it up with Cowslips

which have all come up

and given a very good display. Bless her.

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And then of course at this time of the year, and with

all this rain everyone's had

the garden is going wild!

To be fair, this was last year.

.

.

A sort of 'before' picture.

And this is last week.

.

.

An 'after' picture.

Four rows of spuds, two of 'earlies'

and two of 'main crop'.

There are also carrots, parsnips and leeks in there somewhere.

I've put in chives, parsley and other herbs

down in this front bit.

Oh yes, and two rhubarb roots.

.

.

Sometime back I remember someone asking -

"Do you remember those big 'Sweetie' jars?"

Well I remembered as I bought half a dozen

about forty years ago for a shilling each.

They are in my garden shed housing my

'Blood, Fish & Bone' and other Gardener's goodies!

So you see, I have been kept very busy.

Now as you were all very kind about

all my previous videos, I thought I would do

another for you based on efforts in the garden.

Wesley supervised the video shots 

and the 'songs' were performed by

Ronnie Ronalde in 1949.

Sit back and get a dose of this.

.

Now wasn't that brilliant?

Fancy being able to whistle like a bird,

in tune and to music.

Fantastic.

And my veggies aren't bad either!

O well, 

now the sun's come out,

I suppose, 

I'd better,

get back to work.

.

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Take care everyone.

Especially those north of Adrian's Wall.

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