Dipper

I saw a dipper in the stream which runs through our village.
This is a lovely bird and is unmistakeable as it stands on a stone in the middle of the stream bobbing up and down while I childishly whistle Agadoo in time to its movements.
This evening, it was turning dark and I was putting up the first of the outside Christmas lights on the front of the house. Okay, so I'm a chav. So what? :)
I turned and saw a Robin hopping ever nearer to me. I nipped in the house, rolled up some bits of cheese and flicked them towards him.
He gratefully received them and went on his way - making me feel all Christmassy.
I bloody love Robins me.

Damned funny

These lads misbehaving in an art gallery made me laugh guiltily and immoderately.
Might take you a minute or two to get it but stick with it and don't give the answer away.
An "arf" will do.
I'll probably go to hell for posting it on here.
This was nicked off Popbitch btw.

Wildlife appeal

The Wildlife Trust for Lancashire, Manchester and Merseyside need to raise £50,000 in four weeks or a valuable site may be lost to development.

They have been given the opportunity to buy the whole site, which is the size of 130 football pitches, next to J31 of the M6 at Preston. However, they can only do it if they raise £50,000 in the next four weeks.There is a real threat that the site could be lost for wildlife.

Send them a few quid - or even better, send them £10,000 and you can have a hide named after yourself! Because of the way funding works pro rata, a £20 donation is worth £6,000 to the appeal!

I'm a tit, get me out of here.

I walked straight into it.
It was my own stupid fault.
I said to my wife:

"A white bearded tit has been spotted in Lancashire."

Without batting an eyelid or missing a beat, she fixed me with a beady stare and remarked:

"Yes, I know - I'm looking at him".

ByebyeUK

The collapse of the UK would spell a constitutional crisis — and scupper Gordon Brown’s dream of becoming British Prime Minister.

Well that's worth it then.

England Awakes.

At last!

Sixty eight % of English voters want an English Parliament.
And nearly half want an independent England.
This something that this blog has been advocating for years.
Now the country is waking up to the major discrepancies and massive inequalities that exist between the countries of the UK.
But the part Scottish David Cameron doesn't see it like this.
He comments:
"The union between England, Scotland and Wales is good for us all and we are stronger together than we are apart. The last thing we need is yet another parliament with separate elections and more politicians spending more money."
What an out-of touch hug-a-hoody idiot.

The he-who-would-be-King Gordon Brown said: "There is a debate to be had about the future of the United Kingdom. But I think when you look at the arguments — at the family ties, the economic connections, the shared values, the history of our relationship which has lasted 300 years — people will decide we are stronger together and weaker apart."

Well your "government" started the breakup . Did you expect the English to sit on their hands and do nothing about it?

In an astonishing outbreak of fairmindedness, even half the Scots questioned agreed that the West Lothian question (Scots MP's voting on purely English matters) was unfair and 36 % of Scots agreed it was unfair for them to have more money spent on them than the English.
The Scots dominated Labour "government" has made a rod for its own back in granting political and monetary benefits to the other countries that we the English do not enjoy.
Even in today's papers there is yet another example of the Scots being treated differently.
As my old Gran used to say: You can tread on a worm until it turns.
The worm has turned.
Roll on the day, my friends. Roll on the day.

Grovel grovel

TONY BLAIR is to express his “deep sorrow” for Britain’s role in the slave trade tomorrow.

Will he also express regret for bombing the shit out of Iraq; shoving eight year old kids up chimneys; the slaughter of Lancashire cotton millworkers at Peterloo; the transportation of the Tolpuddle Martyrs; the thousands of pensioners who will die of cold this winter; the poor performance of the English football,cricket and rugby teams; the rampant yobbery on the streets; John Prescott (nuff said); the Irish Potato Famine (oh, sorry - already done that one); the Norman Conquest; the banning of Christmas by Cromwell; any song by Lulu; and various unfulfilled manifesto promises?
Oh and the fact that slavery still continues in Africa itself?

Hurricane? What hurricane?

I've been bricking myself for the last couple of days over the weather forecast which virtually guaranteed a hurricane in our area today.
Last February we had winds of 90 mph which blew slates off our house and the roof off my beloved shed, carrying it to the other side of the garden so I've been expecting the worst and worrying about it. I've just looked on the BBC forecast just now and it predicts winds of 29 mph and 14 mph on the Yahoo weather site.
Bit of a frigging difference eh?
How wrong can they be? With all the millions of pounds worth of whizzbang computers, I could do better with my old mam's false teeth. They always dropped when it was going to rain.
These weather "forecasters" are stealing a living. Put the useless sods down a salt mine.
What's it like where you are? Were you deceived as well?

Booze cruise blues.

I see the European judges have decided that we won't be able to order cheap booze over the internet for home delivery after all.

So it works like this:

Brew the booze in this country. Put into cans.
Load hundreds of thousands of cans of booze onto bloody big lorries which clog the roads and motorways to Dover and thence to Calais.
Unload it at Calais and clog the roads and motorways coming back to pick up more shipments of cans of booze.
Thousands of UK beerhunters jump in their cars and clog the roads and motorways heading to Dover and thence to Calais for their cans of booze.
Load the cans of booze in the cars till the back axles cry out for mercy and the petrol gauge expires.
Clog the roads and motorways heading back home in the UK passing the bloody big lorries laden with cans of booze clogging the roads and motorways heading in the opposite direction.

Yeah. That'll do it. That'll save the planet.

Three and counting

Caught the third mouse this morning. Decided to stick with the organic chocolate as that seems to be to the local meeces' taste.
I'll be letting him go shortly somewhere near you. Hope you've got plenty chocolate. Or raisins. Or peanut butter. Or muesli.

Mice ain't nice

We've got mice in the hice.
I noticed a packet of crystallised ginger had been nibbled. Ginger FFS! I hope his ringpiece was on fire.
I set out the humane micetrap with Green and Blacks Organic chocolate (they love that - our rodents have expensive tastes) and caught a couple. I drove out into the countryside and let them go. I do this because:

a I hate killing things
b I don't fancy removing squashed or poisoned mice.
c I'm a big soft 'aporth.

Birdyfact:You have to go over three miles away or they find their way back.

We have had fewer mice since him next door got a tomcat a few years ago but the old boy must be getting lethargic like me. It's been ages since we last had one but as soon as you think "Oh, we haven't seen any mice for a long time" they somehow telepathically pick up on your thoughts and pay you a visit.
It's like when you say: "Thank God Doris and Fred haven't been round for donkey's years." Next second :Ding Dong. "Cooeee it's Doris and Fred!"
I heard another of the little bastards scuttling this morning but when I looked in the traps, the luxury choccy hadn't been touched. Perhaps this one prefers Thorntons. I'll have to ask him to leave us a note stating his preference. Perhaps it's one of the ones I released earlier who's superfit and can find his way back over three miles and is wise to the choccy lure. Devious bugger sometimes that Johnny Mouse.

Sheesh, I hate those meeces to pieces.

Is it me?

Is it just me or is it THAT time of year?
I feel snappy, lethargic, bored, fed up and can't be bothered with people.
Is anyone else like this or are you all full of the joys of, er, late autumn?

Is this fair?

Like most people, I make donations to charity - especially around Christmas.
I have made donations in the past to the RNIB - the Royal National Institute for the Blind. I believe they do a good job. I can't imagine anything much worse than not being able to see.
That said, I take strong exception to the sort of emotional blackmail I received through the post from them this morning.
Look at the above letter from "Santa" to the little blind boy. This is part of an appeal to raise money for Talking Books for the Blind. I used to work on a local group on Talking Newspapers for the Blind - recording local newspapers, making tapes and sending them out to local blind folk so I know how welcome these things are.
But the appeal letter was headed "Without your help, hundreds of children like Guy will be denied the magic of books this Christmas". (for that read "If you don't donate, you are denying a blind child the magic of books this Christmas). And then the above letter was enclosed with it saying that because the kid is partially sighted, there won't be anything for him - unlike the kids who can see.
Does anyone feel that this has gone beyond the pale? Is this meant to make you feel like a really bad person if you don't send the £15 they are asking for? I think it's a bit sick and meant to induce guilt.
I am still very sympathetic to the cause but left wondering whether I should donate or ignore the appeal because of the sly approach.
Am I being too harsh? What do you think? Would you donate or not?

Will the real Brian Potter please stand up, please stand up?

If you are a fan of Phoenix Nights, you will love this hilarious video.
And if Peter Kay didn't take his inspiration for Brian Potter from the concert secretary, I'd be amazed. The resemblance is amazing.

Folkin' good.

From time to time I think about the old English folk songs we used to sing at school and wonder why kids today aren't taught them.
I can still remember most of them. The one about the cockeyed woman who had one eye on the pot and the tother up the chimney;soldier soldier; early one morning; oh no John no; green grow the rushes oh; blow the man down; among the leaves so green-oh. Looking back, it helped to give us a sense of identity and carried on the country's traditions. Not multicultural enough these days I suppose.
Anyway, I came across this excellent site which has some of those fine old English songs on there, along with the tunes. Might bring back one or two memories for those of a certain age.
All together now: "My Father was a Spanish Captain, went to sea year ago, first he kissed me, then he left me, bade me always answer No - Oh No John No John No John No..."
(These days it would be Yes John and he'd have no time to get his underpants off).

The Hoodies get nowhere.

A group of Salford lads wearing hoodies attempt to enter an exhibition at the Lowry Centre.

Acting "under orders", the security staff ban them.

Is it right to judge people by what they wear? Do you think they would have wrecked the place? If we make assumptions about people are they simply going to react in the way we expect them to?

Let's face it. If L S Lowry was still alive and painting, he would have to include hoodies in his work if he wanted to reflect contemporary society. It all seems a bit ironic to me.

Somebody tell them...

It was there. I had to take it. Okay, it's childish. But if you're ever in Cannes, I bet you have a little snigger when you see this shop sign.

Gluten schmuten

Spoke to the consultant about my gluten intolerance and she says it's not really much to worry about.
With all the gluten that's in the grub we eat (especially us bread and beer lovers) it causes an overload and sets off the antibodies.
She advised me to cut back but enjoy the odd pizza and pint (I bloody well intend to) and all should be well.
At my age, I can see senility beckoning anyway so I am going to enjoy myself as much as possible.
You're a long time brown bread.

Street cred

This is what the street cred conscious doggies look like in Barcelona.
Designer tee-shirt and jeans always look smart on a Jack Russell, I find.
I just worry how he manages to have a crap.

Cold

Why I am I sitting here full of a cold in a freezing North of England when I could be showing off my goodies in a posing pouch like this gentleman in his 70's that I spotted on the beach in Barcelona last week?
If you've still got it, flaunt it I say.

La lovely Xena

This is Xena. I met her on a bus to Grasse, just north of Cannes. It seems the French don't mind dogs having their own seats.
The other passengers made a right fuss of her: so much so that now and then, she would vanish under the shawl that her owner, Giselle, had thoughtfully provided.
She's tres cute n'est pas?
The bus was clean; modern; on time;full of friendly folk; cheap (about 90p for the one-hour journey).
All the things that our buses aren't, in fact.
The transport system is so good in the South of France, you don't really need a car.
If the French can do it, why can't we?

What not to eat.

So the results said, in big red letters:

AVOID GLUTEN.

Turns out I have an intolerance to gliadin which is a gluten.
And what is gluten in? My favourites - bread and beer. And loads of other things as well. Biscuits, cakes, puddings, gravy, pizzas, pasta, batter,pies, barley, oats, rye. Apparently, gliadin damages the villi in the small intestine due to the body's own immune system attacking it and can lead to coeliac disease or crohns. I have none of those symptoms yet.
It seems that many people have a gluten intolerance but they just don't know about it and put their illnesses down to something else.
I am a vegetarian as well so the list of stuff I can eat and drink has just been narrowed considerably.
I am going to speak to a consultant next week to find out the extent of the problem.
All the time I am thinking - what if they've made a mistake?
Pint of cider and a rice crispbread anybody?

Aaaaargh!

I've been away for a few days and I came back to a nasty shock.
I got the results of the blood test I had before I went away.
They test you for 113 different foodstuffs.
I seem to have no problem with 112 of them.
Guess what I have to strictly avoid.
Go on.
Have a guess.