We lost a prominent scribbler 337 days ago, another, on the face of it is no longer on the database, who knows, and more importantly, who cares.:-)
This is my last comment on the subject.
Tracked down one of the Scribblers, three to go.
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RJ Flat how are yeh.
In hot Summer weather, old adventurous gardeners should be very careful, the use of proper gear is essential, what with insect bites and stings one can catch all sorts of nasty stuff.
I’ve caught something
Don’t know what it is
But it makes me feel dizzy
And my chest begins to wheeze.
I’ve caught something
And it’s posing many issues
My nose is running wild
And I’m running out of tissues.
I’ve caught something
I know it’s not the flu
Had that last year
And I knew just what to do.
I’ve caught something
I can’t even taste me food
Anyway it serves me right
For gardening in the nude. ;-)
(Jem 11/6/20)
“hybrid. adjective. Definition of hybrid (Entry 2 of 2) 1 : relating to or produced from parents of different species, varieties, or breeds a hybrid rose hybrid cattle. 2 : having or produced by a combination of two or more distinct elements : marked by heterogeneity in origin, composition, or appearance”
As I’ve said many times I know absolutely nothing about cars, but I’ve always thought having to shove gallons of a highly inflammable toxic liquid into a vehicle just to make it move a trifle obsolete even in the 1900’s never mind the 2000’s, there had to be an alternative, although turning half the car into a huge battery is not the answer either, surely that’s like an electric chair on wheels, how many volts does it take to get the car going?:shock:
Now it seems like everything that moves on the road these days is going “Hybrid”, you have hybrid car ads on all the commercial TV stations and even hybrid bikes and scooters, my grandson (20) bought a hybrid scooter recently and he loves it.
In 1886 the author R.L. Stephenson gave us the first hybrid human being in the form of Dr. Jekyll who when he got bored could change over to the notorious Mr. Hyde, I’m sure a lot of meek and mild Dr. Jekylls turned into Mr. Hydes during the long lockdown and woe betide anyone living with them.
Then we had the hovercraft for use on land or water, and what about the old egg in the ducks belly that could be under the water and over the water at the same time, what kind of a “Brid’ do you call that?
I have a few hybrid devices that can run on batteries or the mains, hybrid seems to be the way forward and rightly so, do the wise motorists not keep telling us never to put all our eggs into the one casket?
My country born granny rest her soul, used to pronounce “Bread” as “Brid” like “Do yeh want more brid buttered Jem?” So when I first heard the word hybrid I thought it was a cannabis sandwich—high bread, oh those innocent days of yore.
Remember this one, High on a pill was a lonely goatherd.
Jembo, I’ve been working for a Furniture Maker, making new pieces look older, even antique, but, I had to give the job up. it was just Too “Distressing”.:lol:
:lol:
Reminds me of an old limerick of mine.
“There was a young woman God bless her
Who threw her leg over the dresser
A shelf was too high, it caught on her thigh
And now she is one leg the lesser”
My student grandson got a Summer job in a circumcision clinic, the pay is very bad but they let him keep the tips.
I wonder do they circumcise horses? They must do it on the sly because a fella once offered me a tip for a horse and told me to keep it to meself, I politely refused.;-)
Jem, as I said in the DIY thread, someone else will benefit, long term from my building work because, in about five years we will be looking for Bungalow, but, its going to be a tricky search.
We want to be self sufficient Power Wise, so we need a property with a River at the bottom of the garden, so, I can install a Water Turbine, then I’m going to fit a Wind Turbine in the garden and, Solar Panels on the roof. I must apologise for waffling on about this but I am just “Talkin Bout my Generation”.:lol::lol:
Well why not Spitty, it’s always good to have a goal.;-)
Yeah it’s a tough job trying to hold the boards up while securing them at the same time, whatever you do don’t use ceiling wax.
This is a bit from one of RJ’s favourite poems.
“The time has come,’ the Walrus said,
To talk of many things:
Of shoes — and ships — and CEILING WAX —
Of cabbages — and kings —
And why the sea is boiling hot —
And whether pigs have wings”
I tried the ceiling wax on me shed ceiling but it was useless, as soon as I stood back to admire my work all the panels fell down. You could always try that stuff the taxidermists use on Parrots, Polly filler.
I hope Solo is OK, no sign of her for a while I see, but then she comes and goes like the wind, grand girl that she is.
Yes, Solo, to walk a life alone must be difficult, to walk a shared life is difficult, but, a shared life raises questions, it must be hard to be Solo, and inquisitive.
Alright so pigs can’t fly, but they are very smart.
“It was believed that pigs could see the wind rising, and if they gathered straws in their mouths, a big storm was coming. … Pigs are supposed to be scared of mirrors. Scientists have found that pigs do recognise themselves in mirrors, one of the few animals intelligent enough to do so” Wiki.Apr 17, 2016.
I would imagine if a pessimistic Pig looked in the mirror it would see a ham sandwich looking back, no wonder Pigs look so depressed all the time.
We all told our children the story of the three little Pigs, and how the clever one was saved from the big bad Wolf, what we didn’t tell them was that the surviver ended up on a humans breakfast plate as Rashers, sausages, and black pudding, talk about going from the frying pan into the fire, so who was the worst villain, the hungry Wolf or the hypocritical human telling the tale?
I remember my dear old Granny saying many years ago that Pigs could see the wind, she was a country woman and had loads of different expressions and superstitions, Peacocks were unlucky birds, a woman whistling was also bad luck, as was opening an umbrella in the house.
Thankfully my missus leaves her umbrella in the porch umbrella stand outside the house and she can’t whistle because her upper dentures fall down when she tries.
This is true, I once gave an old favourite Aunt of mine a present of a silver and marcasite Peacock brooch for Christmas, she died the following February from a heart attack, no kiddin’, she was 61 at the time, no more peacock jewellery presents from me to anyone I liked, although I did dabble with the idea of giving a silver peacock handled walking cane to a miserable old Uncle of mine I never liked, but decided that if anything happened to him I’d never get a good nights sleep again.
Phyllis once mail ordered a silky night robe with a big colourful Peacock embossed on the back of it, the post office van delivering it was robbed and burned out during the troubles, so much for Peacocks and me.
The bit above about Pigs looking in the mirror and recognising themselves I find interesting, I mean how did the scientists know the Pigs recognised themselves? The egoistic Pigs will soon be taking selfies of themselves and posting them on ‘Pork Puss”, the new social media site for Pigs.
By the way, never confide in a Pig, they are notorious for squealing.
Next week I’ll be mentioning the much neglected Giraffe, this ancient and noble creature is seldom if ever written about and missing from most children’s stories and songs, you have Mickey Mouse, Roland Rat, Wally Gator, Lassie the Dog, Felix the Cat etc., but never a mention of Giles the Giraffe?
Did you know that they used to think the Giraffe had two hearts in order to pump blood the two meters up to it’s head? they actually only have one heart and how they manage it is still a mystery to science. That’s why they are such humble creatures, very little goes to their heads. It must be agony for the poor things when they get a two meters long sore throat. :lol:
Jem, it is good you are back, it is good reading well constructed paragraphs, one day I may string a couple together, having resisted for the last decade or so.:lol::lol:
Thanks for the kind words Spitty.
Every day is a school day for me, we never stop learning do we.
Speaking of learning, my worst subject in school was the Irish language, I just couldn’t grasp it, can’t grasp any language for that matter, I remember when my son’s Italian father in law came over to see us here in Dublin, his English was really bad and my Italian was absolutely nil barring the a word from that Dean Martin song “When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that’s amoray” I thought amoray was more fish, but it’s not.
Anyway we were out having a pint in my local and we were like two monkeys waving our hands all over the place trying to communicate with each other, the embarrassment of it all, but at least the regulars there got a good laugh watching and listening.
“An fheiceann tú an focal amadain?” in English means “Can you see the word fool?”
Well our schoolmaster used to love saying that to us when we were reading our Irish language book.
He would have a hangover on Monday mornings and be in bad humour, well who wouldn’t be with 40 unruly brats in a class.
It sounds like ‘un feckin’ to un fokal ama dawn’ and he really enjoyed saying it.
Focal is the gaelic for ‘word’ and Aon focal eile simply means ‘one more word’
Someone had to eventually write a song about it as they always do over here, there’s very little that escapes a song in this fair land. 
This one became a No.1 in Ireland years ago, everyone was singing it, and since it was regularly played on the national radio station it sort of legalised it if you know what I mean.
I had to dig this out as I forgot the name of it, don’t play it if you’re sensitive to what sounds like a swear word.
I echo that Spitty 
Thank you kindly Meg.
I’ve been bored out of me tree lately, but you know what they say about the devil making work for idle hands, enter the devil in the form of the wife.
Phyllis had bought a little toadstool thing for her fairy garden, she’s nuts about fairies it’a a wonder she didn’t marry one.
Anyway she had it plonked in front of these two old fairies or whatever they are called sitting outside a cottage in her “Fairy garden”, she kept looking at the scene then said there was something missing, I agreed with her and said the first thing that came into my mind—a drink.
“Well seeing you’ve nothing to do, make them two little glasses to drink from” Says she knowing I loves a challenge.
I had no clear perspex tubing but I had an idea and cut up a used ballpoint pen, made two little tankards and a bottle from the body of the pen and glued them all on with a strong glue, herself is very pleased and never let it be said that Jem ever begrudged anyone a drink.:lol:
Well may you say that old fool has little to be doing with his time.
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How lovely Jem, that was clever and good thinking making the tankards out of pens!
Psst … Phyllis’s ‘old fairies’ (as you call them) are old gnomes! 
I quite like the mushroom!
Ah! gnomes, that’s them alright, thanks Mags.
The young grandson asked me yesterday where he could buy a pair of “Spats”, seems they’re coming back into fashion, I told him to hang around an old pipe smoker, they spit a lot and today’s spits will become tomorrows spats.;-)
There is a tiny island off Dublin Bay called “Ireland’s Eye”, it’s a bird sanctuary with mostly Terns inhabiting it.
Well yesterday a small aircraft smuggling in drugs crashed on the island scattering drugs everywhere, however the pilot was nowhere to be found.
Inspector Michael O’ Ryan is in charge of the search for the missing airman, when asked how the search was progressing, he said “Great so far, it’s very intensive and my team tell me that not a Tern has been left unstoned”
On e good Tern deserves another.:lol:
Hello to you all.
Hello Sweetie, time for a new thought pattern, Pick and Mix.:lol: