I get some weird dreams meself RJ, especially when I eat wedding cake before I go to bed.
What if we could voluntary hibernate for the severe months of Winter? Suppose we slept for three months of the year, drip fed in units stacked in a building specially built for the purpose, just half a dozen staff to patrol in shifts and see that all the feeding and emptying machines were working properly. It would save a fortune in fuel and food costs and your house could be let out or whatever, that of course would be optional, the three months would be just the same as a good nights sleep to us, a bonus would be that we all skip Christmas and all the razzle dazzle that goes with it, and when we wake up it’s spring, the sun is shining and the birds are singing and we all have three months back pension to collect.;-)
Maybe it would add years to your life instead of taking them off, seeing that there would be less wasting of energy and wear and tear on the body, if a smoker or drinker you would benefit from the three months without same, maybe one could go on like this year after year and add an extra third to ones life, everyone’s a winner. Has this ever been tried by NASA to find out the effects of long term space flights? As they are already talking of a Mars flight they’d want to get cracking now, spending a few years in a tiny space ship wide awake with the same people all the time would drive anyone nuts, they’d probably end up strangling each other before they even get there.
I have always wondered if a smoker was in a coma for a long period, would he/she be cured of the habit when he/she woke up? Not that I want to be cured of the habit, I like smoking that’s the only reason I smoke.
I have always wondered if a smoker was in a coma for a long period, would he/she be cured of the habit when he/she woke up?
Good question, but, being in a coma, must be like putting a good book down, having a crazy dream, then waking, picking the book up again, and continuing where you left OFF.
Rip Van Winkle fell asleep one day, and much to everyone’s dismay, he stayed that way.
His poor wife was frantic, it was not very romantic, and her needs were gigantic.
With no money coming in, she turned to sin, in her skin, to the shame of her kit and kin.
She went to jail, ‘cos she couldn’t get bail, and was groped by a male, on the landing rail, all things considered it was a very sad tale.
(Mars Barr)
My missus has always loved her sleep, her mother used to have a terrible job getting her up for work in the mornings, but to be fair she works hard (when she’s awake:-D) and she fully deserves her rest. I remember the first week after we were married, the newly married women packed in their jobs then and took over the running of the house, or if they fancied they would continue working, they had the choice, but that was back in the old days when we were making progress, one wage was enough to provide for the whole family, no need for the wife to work, now even two incomes can’t provide enough to live decently on, and they call that progress? Anyway getting back to the sleep, I, like the gentleman that I am made her her breakfast in bed and went out to work, when I got back home at 5.30pm she was still in bed fast asleep, hows that for a marathon nap? Well things started to sort themselves out fairly quickly after that and the next day she managed to get up at 1.pm, she worked backwards and eventually began to get up when I got up, but she still loves her sleep, we still have a laugh about those old days.
All this chat about wedding cake compels me to reveal my love of garden plants. Shrubs especially fall into this category.
I am hopeful that this post will be of interest given the rather weak connection between fructose & erm, fructose in my opening gambit.
Etch this name somewhere about your person VIBURNUM PLICATUM MARIESII.
Ring a bell? Of course it’s the Wedding Cake Viburnum.
Viburnum Mariesii received the RHS prestigious award of garden merit.
The eventual height is about ten feet, although information received suggests that it can take ten years to reach six feet, so obviously won’t outgrow its position too quickly. Branches grow horizontally in a tiered fashion without the need for training, pruning is unnecessary other than to tidy up and perhaps remove the occasional wayward branch.
The white showy upward facing lace cap flowers in May are borne along the length of the horizontal branches, giving a very striking and architectural appearance. The leaves in Autumn turn a reddish/purple giving a spectacular display. Best grown as a specimen shrub as the horizontal branches grow wide and would be restricted in the mixed border, which would spoil the effect of this very special deciduous shrub.
oh RJ you are a one [gentle punches RJ left shoulder] but I do love you [well in the filial way you understand!!]
a ten foot wedding - quiet a feet heh! - most wedding last one or two week and then the rot sets in - obviously not in the VIBURNUM PLICATUM MARIESII.
yes my first wife did suggest that I took 10 years to reach six feet - no I am not boasting I just have a very active libido!
Branches grow horizontally in a tiered fashion without the need for training, pruning is unnecessary other than to tidy up and perhaps remove the occasional wayward branch.
yes not boasting again but I always prided myself as an horizontal fashion!! and there was no need to remove any untidy wayward branches - I soon took care of them!!
white showy upward facing lace cap flowers in May
I have been known and prided on my white showy thingy!!
turn a reddish/purple giving a spectacular display.
well if you insist I have been known to turn into a reddish thingy but only under extreme provocation or constant abuse!
Best grown as a specimen shrub as the horizontal branches grow wide and would be restricted in the mixed border,
well what can I say ? - you may ask yes I always see myself as a supremely gorgeous specimen as boozecruiser would say and prefer to perform in the horizontal branch position and never restricted to border control - too many foreigners there!!
Gummy, what an outstanding contribution to my post.
Since childhood I have revelled in learning the LATIN (the proper) names of plants.
I was given a LADYBIRD book for my 8th birthday “Cacti & Succulents”
I learned all the names, but dropping them casually into a kids conversation was not easy.
My observations at playtime such as " Oh look, a Sempervivum tectorum" were met usually with the comment
“Drop dead Snowy” or “Swallowed a dictionary , you dopey cnut”
It was a rough school where I lived, a council state built in the late 1920’s but not used entirely until the town was blitzed in 1940, thanks to Mr Hitler & the homeless were everywhere. My parents squatted in a Nissen hut left by the G.I.s in 1945.
Jump forward 50 years to an encounter on theMSN chatroom network, sadly denied to us in 2016. I came across a fellow gardener, and blunt. WE were on the subject of the propagation of ferns by spores.
I prattled on, “Have you had any success with “Nephrolepsis Bostoniensis Exaltata”
He replied"Swallowed a dictionary, you dopey cnut”
AS Sir Winston CHurchill uttered his last words I knew exactly what he meant
well thank you very much for all of that I was just trying to return a compliment to an old friend - I was simple trying to point out — well why bother!!
What kind of cheese was that? as the ad says.:-) Plenty of choice words there lads.
Ah yes boredom, happens to everyone even the great Churchill himself, there is only one cure for it-variety, a varied jack of all trades approach to everything helps to stir up the memories of those gathered. I see this all the time in the local, the football fans more or less all sit together and natter all the time about football, boring to listen to all the time and I’ve seen grown men come to blows over it. then the crowd from the offices next door who talk about work, again boring to listen to all the time, the loners sit at the bar, bored from thinking. Where I sit there’s a fine selection of retired heads, from Dave the ex council bin man to Peter the retired local GP, a very varied collection all with different outlooks on life, it seldom gets boring and there’s alway a few laughs as well as a few friendly disputes, it’s a tonic for me everyday, only problem is they’re all getting older and dying off slowly, but that’s how it goes.
talking of the florals my grandmother had the biggest aspidistra in the world - there it stood all forlorn in the front parlor in a beautiful painted pot - people would come from miles around and stand outside looking in. but I never once seen that aspidistra flower! it must have been very tired cos it came all the way from Japan.
a minor party pollie who the govt were trying to woo to get a bill through over here was heard to say on camera " some say I am holding the govt to ransom - what a load of nonsense I merely have them strongly by the balls and am squeezing as hard as i can - that’s not holding them to ransom!!"
My grandmother was a lover of old ghost stories and would tell my brother and me tales of witches goblins and ogres. I loved these tales and was never in the least bit scared of any horror film since, indeed my brother and me progressed as we grew, at the age of ten he got me a book for my birthday entitled “Zombies for Kids” it was sort of an introduction to the world of zombies, later on I added “Alice in Werewolfland” and “Dracula the Walking Blood Bank” to my reading library. My own kids love a good well made horror film too. Our youngest brother missed all this, he was not even born when the granny was alive, he’s in his late 50’s now and is scared to watch horror films, even today, funny old world ain’t it.
I just remembered a book I got for my son one Christmas, he was nut’s about Lego and this book came with a box of Lego pieces, it was called “Let’s be Frank about Frankenstein” and you built your own monster with the Lego pieces, it was a sell out that Christmas, pity they didn’t continue every year with a different horror character, it would teach the kids that the dead can’t harm anyone, it’s the live ones you want to watch out for.;-)
Did you ever get “an overwhelming desire to express yourself”? Lovely expression that isn’t it? People in the art world use it a lot, especially when they want something from you. Watching tonights episode of “Heartbeat”, Gina, the girl of my dreams, is attending an arts course in painting when the male tutor comes behind her, looks at her work and says “Gina, I see you have an overwhelming desire to express yourself” All he was looking for was to get her into bed, poor Gina, she’s always unlucky in love, I sincerely hope she doesn’t fall for this lecherous blackguard and has her heart broken yet again.
We were never as elegant when we wanted a date, and that was all you got back then, no matter how hard you tried. “Are yeh doin’ anything tomorrow night?”
I could just picture meself sneaking up behind Phyllis all those years ago, she’d be outside the chipper with her mates stuffing themselves with chips and smoked cod “Phyllis, have you ever had an overwhelming desire to express yourself” “”What the bloody hell you on about now?”
Express yourself?
Nurse Gillian had a long career in nursing 1967 – 2000, only retiring after making a typically selfless decision to be my carer. In her time she was an SRN, SCM, District nurse, Practise nurse & others.
She excelled in everything she did and as a midwife her speciality was getting babies onto their mother’s breasts for meal times. So many mothers gave up after initial difficulties beat them, not so nurse Gillians new mothers.
That said I come to the reason for this post. Mothers milk can be “expressed” into a bottle for later. A bit like the non PC “One for the road” of yesteryear .
Express yourself! Words are funny things & Jem’s latest GEMS are giving my brain a bit of a shake up through my dotty word association.
I’ve always had the greatest admiration for Nurse Gillian RJ, what a treasure you found there, bless her dear heart.
Ah that’s so sad Gumbud, I remember when Gina arrived in the series first, straight from Liverpool, she had a sexy tiny mini skirt on, she was a real head turner then, she still is, although, and dare I say it, I think she’s put on a pound or two since.
I was lying in the garden last July, it was a beautiful warm sunny afternoon when suddenly I had an overwhelming desire to get up, go out the gate and run down the street naked shouting “Geronimo“ But my overwhelming fear of spending the night in jail held me back.
Does anyone remember Brian Sewell, the impossibly posh art critic. His voice took some getting used to, his fulsome plummy breathless exuberance & superior clipped vowel utterances made him priceless.
He made an art form of being rude to all & sundry as an art critic. His saving grace was that he was mostly right, one time correctly identifying as fake a painting praised by other art critics. It was actually painted by an elephant.
Plenty of choice words there lads.
