ah welcome back Pugsie we had a walk through the forest whilst you were away and I got terribly frightened because usually you drive ahead with ya steamroller - glad you’ve come back!
did you really spend some time in the 'pool Pug back in the 40’s it was peaceful little hollow. occasionally we had the ODD gentleman walking the streets with a bag of sweets offering us a sweet but we had been warned about them and we were always in a gang so could defend ourselves - yes post war liverpool could be said to be dull and uninspiring and after 15 yrs in this dullness we move to pastures of green and cows in cheshire and enjoyed their cheese too. should have stayed there really but that’s another story!!
Thanks for the welcome,gummy…I was unaware I’d left,though.
I meant to leave the JOCULAR impression of theatrical mincing off in high dudgeon-but it appears to have been taken as a genuine huff.
No,chaps-[and chappettes,natch]-there were merely a couple of items requiring attention that meant my being absent for a while.
However,je suis revenu. So,let’s get on with current events - I hear there’s unrest in parliament…now THERE’S a surprise, eh?
Nice to see you back Pug, I thought you got needled about something, glad I was wrong. Sorry but we ain’t got no fatted calfs left, it’s all these cutbacks you see, will a cup of oxo do?;-)
It was very tragic about the trio of tree falling related deaths over here during the storm, then we have over 250,000 homes and businesses without power, but that can be fixed, and full credit to the ESB lads they are always on the ball and do a great job of getting the juice back quickly, but three lives taken suddenly is a disaster to all concerned, God rest their souls.
Oh course I’m grateful that Dublin got off lightly, to me, and from where I was it was just a very windy day and I’ve seen an awful lot worse days in me lifetime, I even rambled up to the bookies but they were closed, everywhere was closed, that’s the nature of these bloody red alerts.
This may sound ungrateful but the devil in me felt cheated because I’ve never been in a real hurricane before, it was always on my bucket list, I mean I even got up early to see it in the flesh so to speak, I felt like a storm chaser, I had cleaned out the summerhouse in case it blew away and put all the wife’s potted plants into the brick shed, back breaking work that was too, she’s got a lot of plants, all I was short of doing was putting that chipboard stuff on the windows and doors, it’s not fair, I was expecting to see cars, trees, and cows flying through the air like in the films, they should have given us a blue or pink alert instead of a red alert, but that’s government departments for you, tripping all over themselves issuing all kinds of alerts, making a balls of everything every time, you won’t catch me getting up early again for the next ‘Red alert’;-)
In my days at GRACE BROS, I met a good number of famous people in the course of my work. Signing Sessions for Authors, B list celebs opening a new franchise, department or product, all came my way.
Percy Thrower, Geoff Love, great bloke, Larry Grayson, Margaret Powell, Sir Francis Chichester, Pat Phoenix, Dustin Gee & the other one, Rod Hull & Emu, & loads of others whose names I can’t recall. Frederick Forsythe, Lesley Thomas, Dick Frances, loads more.
I recall though, now looking back, the staff & customers were generally more interesting.
I’ll put my thinking cap on & post some on Confessions of a retired shopkeeper.
One of my colleagues had a double life while his mother was alive. Poor man was treated like a girl by his butch mother, dressing him as a girl until he went to school. Whether this helped him in his decision to secretly bat for the other side or his predilection to dress up and listen with fellow music lovers to Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky or something else but when the mother died he had no need to pretend anymore & went off the rails. He took to wearing gold lame catsuits & the last I heard of him was that he had gone to MILAN to work as an Au Pare to an opera singer .
Am I alone, in not wanting to venture into pastures new, until questions have been answered, in this Field of Speciality, at least Greta wanted to be alone.
my furthest recollection of a story was my experience of being sucked into a storm drain - it remained in my dreams and thoughts for many years and I could not decided whether i had been dreaming or not. then I had an incidental conversation with a much older cousin of mine who describe an event of taking me for a ‘walk in the park’ in a stroller with other older cousin [they were dating at the time unbenown by me a little sprat of 3yrs in a stroller]
anyway their account of things which took years to emerge was that they had been canoodling in the park and I as a rather adventurous type had crawled out of my stoller [muttering eff this for a game of soldiers] and crawled into a broken and open drain big enough for the wee body to catapult into - they must have just managed to grab me in time and that is how I am able to sit here today 70 yrs later and recount the tale!!
By the cringe, what a wide range of topics we uncover. What a great deal we have in common. We are Brothers in Arms.
All for one & one for all.
If we build it they will come,
obugga I’ve forgotten my train of thought, and I was just getting to the point I was making, or trying to make. Thats what happens when you are a polymath. Eat your heart out multi taskers one & all.
It’s ok for you, gums-you’re tucked up under your duvet with a mug of tepid cocoa,listening to your tapes of ‘Sing Something Simple’ as you fondly recall all both] the highlights of the halcyon years of the Jimmy Clithero show.
Me? [thanks for caring] Well,I’ve been doing battle with an oil-fired boiler. FEKKIN’ thing! I’ve had bits of boiler all over the kitchen,all manner of tools I’d forgotten I own scattered across the floor,as that BSTRD boiler sat in the corner sniggering and refusing to work.
May a huge and painful POX descend upon whomsoever designed the fekkin’ Mistral oil-fired boiler!
As of this moment, that God-forsaken piece of shit is defunct, dead,bereft of life, gone to join the choir invisible…and a new WESTMINSTER [yaaaay!] boiler is at this very moment winging it’s way to Puggy Towers. Ok,so no warm radiators or hot water until Thursday morning…but a price worth paying, just to be rid of that CRAPPY Mistral thing. I’d just like to add,before I close this topic forever, that apparently, the f*cked Mistral boiler is NOT acceptable at our local tip for recycling;due to the ever-so-slight possibility of being contaminated by oil residue!!! HONESTLY-that’s not a joke, it’s true! The council is NOT allowed under EU regs to accept it,ferfuksake! …GRRRRR! [ok…as you were, chaps…]
