I suppose all these posts would make more sense if we were privy to the PM’s that do the rounds. I’m detecting there is some sort of uprising on the horizon. :-p:-p
The only explanation I could give is, Jem, and leisurely scribbles deserve better than this
Leisurely Scribbles originated from the bright idea of Jem, one of our original members, almost 5 years ago. It was a hit right from the start with the deep thinking posts and the reasoning and often humerous replies from the intelligent group of scribblers.
It’s good to see you posting on here again Solo. 
Thank you all for your kind words folks.
Just like RJ I hate quarrelling and arguments that’s why I stay out of threads that I have a feeling will erupt into a skin and hair flying match, I’m gone beyond all that at my stage of life, just not interested in that type of thing, but good luck to those who enjoy it.
On the scribbling thread a bit of friendly ribbing goes on but we all understand who can take it and who can’t so we all respect that, understanding between several people from different places and all walks of life, that to me is a good thing.
It has been relatively trouble free and although it is not officially a self moderated thread we have all managed to moderate ourselves, and most importantly kept heavy politics out, I’m very grateful to you all for that.
Phew! Thank God that’s that post out, it certainly ain’t leisurely when you have to think about what you’re going to write.
It’s a beautiful evening now and I’m taking the dog out for a walk with the possibility of taking him into the local on the way back, the Innkeeper loves him and provides him with a saucer of Guinness, no wonder the dog is so healthy.
See you all later.
We need someone in the engine room, stoking the impetus, any volunteers?
That’s what Gummy would have said, in a round about sort of way.
Methinks there’s enough stoking going on as it is Spitty.
I was looking at an American crime program last night, about bad blood between neighbours, ended in tragedy as sometimes happens in these cases, anyway one chap is talking to a press reporter and in the course of the conversation he says “One of my other neighbours, who is a male lady had a spare key to my house and…”
A male lady? What’s a male lady I’m thinking, with all these new names for folks with gender differences I genuinely had no idea what a male lady was. It was only when a picture came up on the screen of a postwoman in uniform that I realised he meant a Mail Lady, mail as in post. A trans Atlantic misunderstanding on my part.
It must be very hard on someone trying to learn the English language from scratch, take the simple word “Row” for example, it sounds the same but can mean several completely different things, row as to argue, row as to propel a boat, row as a row of cottages, roe as fish eggs. Funny enough i worked with a Turkish chap when i was an apprentice and he was really bamboozled trying to understand and express himself in the English, especially the Dublin version of it.
No such messing’ about with the Gaelic, if my memory serves me right Ro means ‘Very” as in “Ro Deas”—Very nice. Pity I can’t speak it fluently, hated learning it in school, probably because it was compulsory, compulsory is a word I always associate with bullying for some reason, not a nice word.
Phew no longer having to depend on squiffy wifi as now back with sensible broadband.
Talking of row and boats…
Now who in their right minds would accept an invitation to go sailing on the Deben knowing full well they get seasick at the sight of a ripple in a glass of still water. Well as Pugs so succinctly pointed out you don’t have to be right minded to post on scribbles do you !.
I did accept the invitation and although the water has been like a mill pond, gloriously hot and not a cloud in the sky I still insisted I wear my life jacket at all times. It has not helped when my friend Capt Horatio Nelson kept informing me, “A few days ago we would have been lashing each other to the mast it was that rough” then bursting cheerfully into Rule Britannia, Britannia rules the waves. My Name is not Britannia and I don’t want to rule the waves nor would my unpatriotic stomach allow it. So make a reef knot out of that if you will.
Anyhow it’s back to being a cowardly but happy landlubber and lets have no more of this jolly “Hooray up she rises” or a " Life on the Ocean Waves" either.
The older I become, the more I am able to relate events of yesteryear with life today.
My Nan for example. Us kids wouldn’t ever ask of a drink because all her crockery and cutlery was not clean and her glass tumblers were often in use as a receptacle for dentures.
I even in later years teased a story out of this.
I’d say that I have had a terrible pain in my jaw for the last week, only relieved when I realised I was wearing nurse Gillian’s dentures. Easily done when you keep them all in the same glass tumbler.
Zap, forward 65 years to 2019 & we have our youngest 2 granddaughters for tea.
“Granddad, this spoon is dirty “
Actual ly, they belonged to our grandparents and were just old and worn. They are probably one hundred years old.
I began to ponder on how I became old, & like my nan, could not be bothered with trivia.
I pottered in my daughter’s garden this afternoon, pruning, weeding, and talking to the plants.
I was and am a great gardener; it is one thing that I excel at, without trying.
I KNOW what to do, I don’t have to look up plant names, or anything else, After being schooled in horticulture I pondered today on how I became a great gardener…
It was my Nan of course; she did not have books or Monty Don she mixed vet, fruit and flowers using every space just like modern practise. We were sent out on the road to collect the steaming hot dung left by the milk mans horse, to put on her roses and runner beans.
I’m tired
Bear with me; I will come to my point later chums
Great stuff folks, great to see you all back to abnormal again.
These was an old chap being interviewed on TV this morning, it was his 100th birthday and I must say the old fella looked terrific for his age, his speech was clear and steady and he had a fine head of white hair cut in the Tony Curtis style complete with DA at the back (he proudly turned his head to show it off), he looked like a fresh 70 year old, needless to say the interviewer asked him the usual standard questions, what do you eat, do you exercise regularly etc., then lastly he asked him did he ever smoke or drink “Oh indeed I did, smoked and drank all me life but I had to give it up, the smokin’ an drinkin’ was killing’ me altogether” When did you give it up Freddy?” “Oh let me see…about six or seven weeks ago”
I had to laugh.
Now that’s what I call having your cake, eating it, and getting away with it, good on ya Freddy!
I am waiting for you to rotate.
“Zap, forward 65 years to 2019 & we have our youngest 2 granddaughters for tea.”
Grilled or baked?
YES! [and a squidge of the sauce bottle,natch]
Thank You tweedledum & Tweedledee. Bamber wants to know if you conferred on this one.
Seriously I feel chuffed, though, that 2 of our greatest wordsmiths must have actually read my blatherings to be able to extract the urine, so effortlessly.
I take off my hat to you…
Decisions, decisions,
Fedora, Bowler, Panama, which shall it be ?
Australian Corked!!
Superb song Solsbury hill spits, scuse so many ssssss’s 
Robert as I am a very lucky ‘grow or die’ gardener your latest offering has me clutching my secateurs in anticipation as gardening tips are worth their weight in any type of manure. 
You have brought this to mind though…
Some tips for SOLO, in no particular order.
*Save seed heads from plants, keep them in brown paper bags to dry.
*Golden rule, prune AFTER flowering, in all cases.
*Remember, A weed is just a plant growing in the wrong place.
*Pot up self sown seedlings for Village Fayres & fund raising.
*Stop to smell the roses.
*ALWAYS sow runner beans on May 8th.
*Try something new.I am trialling with my eldest daughter Nicotiana Sylvestris & Cleome in flowers and salsify and scorzonera in veggies.
This list seemed like a good idea but now I’ve finished for now, it reads a little patronising. NOT my intent.
I passed on those garden tip to the missus RJ, she’s the gardener in this family.
This was my introduction to a new forum I joined for over 70’s, I wanted to give the impression that I’m a friend of the earth which most of them there are, they take it all very seriously and are partricular who they let join.
Whatcha think of this for an entrance then?
Hello everyone, my name is Harold Hopkins, everyone calls me Hopper so feel free to do so, I live on the side of a mountain in County Kerry. Ireland. I do my bit for the environment and try to recycle whatever I can and I’m of the opinion that nature can work alongside technology to create a harmonious partnership for the needs of today, for example, I have satellite internet via a dish I made by painstakingly sewing large dried up cow pats together using wild mountain flax as thread, I then coated the whole thing with pine tree resin and it dried rock hard in the Sun, works great but the smell is unbearable on a hot summers day and there’s nothing but shite on all the TV stations.
I had a friend who is an Eskimo and he tried to make a dish from a block of ice, took him months to carve out a hollow using seal bones as tools, when he finished his ice dish it worked for a while but then his computer froze up on him and I haven’t heard from him since, it’s possible he also froze up as he was always up on top of his igloo patching the melting holes in the dish with snowballs.
I’m a retired church warden, I used to sweep the sins out of the confession boxes after the sinners had all gone home, it was a very tough Parish in a big city so my job was not an easy one, heavy sinners the lot to them, folks should learn to recycle their sins, take them home with them in a bag and use them again and again instead of just dropping them on the confessional floor as soon as they receive absolution.
But that’s all in the past now and I’m delighted to meet you all on here, looking forward to my next project which will be making a super soundbar from a pumpkin.
Harold (Hopper) Hopkins.