"If Music be the Food of Love."

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My neighbour banged on my front door at 2:30am on Friday last.

Can you believe that, 2:30am!

Luckily for him I was still up, 

and tuning the organ’s thirteen Melody pipes for the Regatta at Cookham on Saturday.

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I had to set off at ten o’clock that morning, as I had to be set-up, alongside the river, at 10:30am.

As I waited for the traffic lights on Cookham Bridge, I overheard two blokes who were fishing close by. You see, two cars in front of me was a Hearse and a Funeral Car, and as the lights changed, and we all moved very slowly off over the bridge, one of the fishermen stood up, took off his cap and bowed his head.

When the cars had gone, he put his cap back on, sat back down and carried on fishing.

His mate turns to him and says,

“Pikey, that’s one of the nicest and most respectful things I’ve ever seen you do”

Pike replies, “Well, we were after all, married for nearly 20 years!”

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The regatta field is just upstream from the bridge and alongside Cookham Sailing Club.

The sailing club is here, because it is windy. And of course, wind is something yachtsmen find essential to their sport. It is not something us organ-grinders need in great quantity, just enough to fill our bellows and blow our thirteen Melody pipes!

Last year there was far too much wind everywhere, even without the ‘curried beans‘!

This year there was not so much as a puff.

My pitch this Saturday was just inside the entrance, surrounded by fantastic veteran and vintage cars.

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I was in good company. 

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Just look at the quality (£), oozing out of these Bugatti’s. 

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There were two of these beauties just yards away from me and also the most incredible, irresistible and most desirable ’Bird puller’. (No sorry, I got carried away.) It was an extremely elegant and attractive (£) Rolls Royce.

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I set up my tent and unloaded all my music, beer, bunting, bacon butties and organ.

It was a good pitch, as my playing attracted people as they came in. I say ’people’ but it was really the children that loved the sounds and sights of all my clowns and especially my ’monkey’, or Furry Chimp, to give him his official name.

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When I’m grinding outdoors, I don’t always put up the tent, but here it acts as a screen from the wind, a shade from the sun and of course a dry place for the paper roll music, (and lady friend) if it turns damp.

But as Confucius say -

"Lady who goes camping must beware of evil intent".

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This year, as last, I was on my own again. Even though I invited a couple of friends free entry on my pass, it was just Furry Chimp, me and dozens of happy listeners.  

What more could one want?

As I played, I gazed across at those perfectly turned out motors,

And I thought -

If my body were a car, this is the time I would be thinking about trading it in for a newer model.

I've got bumps and dents and scratches in my finish and my paint job is getting a little dull, but that's not the worst of it.

My headlights are out of focus and it's especially hard to see things up close.

My grip on corners is not as great as it once was.

I slip and slide and skid and bump into things, even in the best of weather.

It takes me hours to reach my maximum speed.

My miles per gallon is appalling.

But here's the worst of it -

Almost every time I sneeze, or cough.... either my radiator leaks or my exhaust backfires!

It was very crowded this year. I think the glimpse of a bit of blue sky did the trick. As usual they had Dragon boat races most of the afternoon followed by the usual ’Duck race’. 

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You could ‘buy’ a numbered duck for a fiver.

Unfortunately, my duck number 70, stopped on the way downstream to ‘chat-up’ a few birds!

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As I realised I was ‘out for a duck’, I noticed that most of the young children in tow, also looked a bit bored at this mid-stream activity and it was only on hearing and seeing my organ in full blow that their interest picked up. At one stage I felt like one of those Punch & Judy set-ups on the beach. You know, with rows of children sitting in front on the sand.

It was great, and of course they all wanted to give the Furry Chimp a cuddle.

It was a most successful day, with everyone enjoying themselves and my charity collection tub was getting very heavy. I don’t at the moment have a favourite charity that I collect for, and here all donations were collected and distributed by Cookham Rotary Club.

As my dear friend Molly was requesting some more of my videos, I did have a go, but with all the activity, noise from cars and motorbikes, to say nothing of people walking in front of my camera, it was not easy.

Anyway, towards the end of the afternoon, as people thinned out I did get a couple of clips which, as they are not too bad, I shall inflict on you via YouTube.

If it looks as if I am talking to myself - I probably am - it comes with old age!

No. I’m usually thanking people for dropping coins into my pot, asking children not to poke the monkey’s eyes out or making sure they don’t knock the camera off its tripod!

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And this week, as you have all been kind, faithful followers - 

- you get a WOGOF.

“Watch one, get one free”!

No. 

On second thoughts, I had better change it to a BOGOF. 

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Hope you like both of these?

The reason I chose those two tunes, is that they are sort of test pieces, to make sure that your organ valves are operating correctly.

Well ladies, I‘m pleased to say that my organ passed these tests with flying colours!

Years ago, when I was a lad, everything was in ‘Black & White’.

It’s absolutely great now that everything is in flying colours.

Which brings me round to asking -

When you dream in colour, is it a pigment of your imagination?

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“If Music be the food of Love - Play on.”

(And I can serenade any ladies,
at anytime.

at [email protected])!!!!!

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What's in a Name?

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I wasn’t planning to do a post on healthy eating, 

in fact I wasn’t planning to do anything today in this heat. 

It’s 83 here today! 

However, this week I have been having a bit of a clear-out, or a de-clutter as it is called today.

It has been mainly old books which I no longer use or are simply out of date.

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I took a load of my books on Railways to a Museum here at Little Whittenham who were very grateful and said they would sell them in their shop or pass any duplicates on to the Great Western Society shop at Didcot.

I kept a few of those by my favourite authors though.

Like this one.

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Then there were cookery books. 

Perhaps they don’t get out of date, but you can certainly find a few that are never used any more. 

I have found that my poor old gut can no longer cope with hot and spicy food, so out went all my books on Indian and Chinese cooking. These all go down the charity shop to find someone with a stronger digestive system. I also gave them this one on dieting. I can’t see me improving my shape! 

Losing weight maybe, but it never seems to comes off in the place where you need to lose it.

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It was here in my ‘foodie’ section that I got to browsing and found a few useless facts.

Did you know that “to pingle” is to eat with little appetite, and that a “gundygut“ is an old word for a glutton? 

No, neither did I, but further on I then came upon a wee rhyme that I thought I might share with you. 

(Maybe Vitamin B is what you need Kath. :D)

Vitamin A,

Keeps the Flu germs away,

And tends, to make people nervy;

B’s what you need

When you’re going to seed,

And C is specific to scurvy.

Vitamin D makes the bones in your knee

Tough for kneeling in church on a Sunday,

While E makes hens scratch

And increases the hatch,

And brings in more profits on Monday.

Vitamin F never bothers the chef

For this vitamin, never existed;

G puts the fight, in the old appetite,

And you eat all the foods that are listed.

So now when you dine, remember these lines;

“If long on this Earth you will tarry,

Just try to be good, lay off suet pud.

Choose fresh foods from the garden, and dairy.”

This next book I intend to keep, as there are special sections on ‘food for wrinklies‘.

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I just hope tomatoes and potatoes heal, as I’ve got loads of both coming thick and fast from the garden.

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Which of course brings me round to gardening books. 

I have hardly ever bought a gardening book new.

Ninety percent are from second-hand shops and from ex-library stock. Most can be read and returned to the charity shops but some I have kept for reference. 

The pictures in this one were fantastic so it had a ’stay of execution’ and Anita writes so very well.

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Confucius!  he say:

"Man who have concrete for garden -often look forlorn"

Another type of book that easily gets out of date are guides. Walking guides, guides to good pubs, eating houses, museums and gardens. Many pubs around here have closed down so of  course many of these guides are no use anymore.

This little book dates back to when I thought I would run a pub when I retired.

Just dreaming.

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Out it goes. 

I have a whole shelf of books concerning the River Thames, so I shall be keeping all those.

A lady who lived by the Thames

Had a gorgeous collection of ghames;

She had them re-set

In a large coronet

And a number of small diadhames.

I also have a couple of shelves relating to things rural. The History of Place Names, Rural Pastimes, and Local Customs in Buckinghamshire. I am a shocker for collecting books like this, especially as most of them only cost around 50p.  I have books on Windmills, Canals, The Thatched Cottage Homes of England and subjects like the Building of Early Railways.

Here’s one I no longer want. 

This can go down the Hospice shop on Monday.

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I bought a lot of these books years ago from a lady called Iris down at the Bourne End Antique Centre.

Sadly it has now gone, although I did notice that it is still shown there on Google’s ‘Street View‘.

Some of the traders would buy books, too. 

I sold them some books on Vintage Motorcycles, ten years after I had sold the two old bikes. 

An ES2 Norton and a Triumph Tiger 100. 

However this next one can go.

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Probably came from the Antique shop anyway.

As an aside, yesterday I was 

reading this book about anti-gravity.

And do you know, I just can’t put it down!

It will have to stay, but what other books do I no longer use.

Art books. I have loads of those.

How to Paint in Acrylics, Techniques of Famous Artists and about six books on Watercolour Technique. I don’t paint in watercolour anymore. 

They, like this one can all go.

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Well that didn’t take long to de-clutter the library, 

but it’s left huge empty spaces.

Now what can I put on the shelves instead?

How about this?

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Now before you think I’m overdoing this here Mediterranean Diet, there is a reason for all this red wine being here. A couple of weeks ago ALL wine in Sainsbury’s was 25% off. Some Italian red was 50% off, and for every six bottles you bought they knocked off another 5%.

As I’m on a diet, this was an offer I couldn’t miss, and didn‘t!

You see, it was all in the larder last week but as my pantry sticks out from the kitchen, with its own little tiled roof, it got hotter and hotter and hotter. Eighty two degrees here yesterday and again today!

Not having a cellar, I thought it better to find somewhere cooler for my ‘medicine’. 

In addition you see, today, experts tell us -

“A compound found in red wine could actually improve balance. “
“The compound has also been shown to help stave off  heart disease and cancer by reducing inflammation.”

So what was the point of me telling you all this?

The title of this post should have given you a clue as to what it was all about.

Here’s a few more clues -

‘How to lay Carpets’ by Walter Wall.
(Wall to wall). !!!

‘A Consumer Guide to Credit‘ by Owen Munny.

‘Taking up Singing‘ by Topsy Sharp.

And a joke to finish.

An elderly lady was crossing the footbridge over River here at Bourne End. It was very windy and she was holding firmly onto her hat with both hands.

An English gentleman approached her and said, "Pardon me, madam..
I do not intend to be forward,
but did you know that your dress is blowing up in this high wind?"

"Yes, I know," said the lady. "I need both my hands to hold onto this hat."

"But madam, you must know that you are not wearing any knickers and that your private bits are exposed!" said the English gentleman in earnest.

The woman looked down, then back up at the man and replied,

"Sir, anything you see down there is 80 years old.

This hat, I only bought yesterday!"

-I-

“Laugh and the World laughs with you.

Weep and you weep alone.”

Mind how y'go.

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"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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