Valentines night at Jems Cabin at the foot of the garden.
I lit the chiminea at 6.30 pm and it was blazing away merrily by 7.pm. I set up the projector and connected it to the soundbar so we could discard our hearing aids, fabulous sound and picture on the 5’x4’ screen, A bottle of Chateau De Liffey chilled in the ice bucket and I opened the cabin doors wide to allow the chiminea heat to flow in. It was a clear crispy night and I felt like a well salted crisp, she looked like one. After the dinner we sipped on our wine and lay back on the small settee, we mingled wrinkles in a warm embrace and I started the old black and white film, it was that ancient weepy “I’ll Cry Tomorrow” starring Susan Haywood. I held her hand in mine and the reflection of the projector caught her moist glass eye as she wept tears of joy and sorrow all through the show, the chiminea went out as if by magic just as the film ended, what a lovely night it was. We went to bed happy and fell fast asleep, well what else are beds for?;-)
Something I was thinking about, if 400 Whales die on a beach, does that mean theres enough left for the species to survive? Back in the 1960’s they were campaigning to “Save the Whales”, how many do you need for them to be safe? If 400 don’t make a dent in the numbers there must be an awful lot more of them than we thought, a good thing for everyone involved, at least they didn’t die completely in vain, plenty of demised Whales to study in depth, no pun intended, plus it gives us an idea of their numbers. I wonder how they counted them in the first place? I hear the latest is they are putting holes in the dead Whales to release the gasses and prevent them from exploding on the beach.
That reminds me of that old joke. Paddy got a job in a Circus driving 3 big huge Elephants, as he’s going down the street a kid comes over to him “Hey Mister!, give us one of them Elephants” “I can’t Son” Then as he turns a corner the kid is there again “Hey Mister!, give us one of them Elephants” “I said I can’t Son” As he turns into the Circus area the kid asks again “Hey Mister!, Give us one of them Elephants” “I can’t Son…they’re counted”
I imagine that would be the sort of poem ya missus would write about you Jem?
Before I lay me down to sleep,
I pray for a man, who’s not a creep,
One who’s handsome, smart and strong,
One who’s willy’s thick and long.
One who thinks before he speaks,
When promises to call, he won’t wait weeks.
I pray that he is gainfully employed,
and when I spend his cash, won’t be annoyed.
He will pull out my chair and open the door,
massage my back and beg to do more.
Oh! Send me a man who will make love to my mind,
and knows just what to say, when I ask “How big’s my behind?”
One who’ll make love till my body’s a twitchin,
in the hall, the garden and the kitchen!
I pray that this man will love me no end,
and never attempt to shag my best friend.
And as I kneel and pray by my bed,
I think of the dickhead you sent me instead.
Yebbut-
All I asked God for was a lass
with tits like balloons and a real taut ass;
who’d take delight in what she’d cook
and be the reason that the bedframe shook.
Instead,he sent me Bingo Wings
who insists on ‘tidying’ all my things;
a harridan who could make Satan cry
when she opens her gob and lets vitriol fly.
Even the local ‘tough guy’ tips his hat
and whispers to me “Jeez-I’m not fighting THAT!”
My missus loves a friendly slagging match, she’s very good with the quick repartee, she has a fantastic memory therefore more ammunition than I have, it’s not fair, she always gets the last dig in.
I wondered where the term ‘His nibs’ came from, me granny used it often when referring to my grandfather, a cranky old git as I remember, no time for children, one of the ‘Children should be seen and not heard’ brigade, he was a train driver and was seldom home, thank God for small mercies, puffing all over the Country for the Great Western Railway. “His nibs will be home this weekend kids, so be on your best behaviour” She used to say to the brother and me.
It seems it’s from the 17th century and means someone in authority, I suppose the bulk of the population couldn’t read or write then so anyone who used nibs were important people. “The Keeper of the Nib” the head chap was called, well if he wasn’t he should have been.
My Dad was a beautiful hand writer, he had nibs of every size and shape for different writings, if one is a nibbler one should always keep one’s nibs in pristine condition and ready for use at a moments notice, so it was written and so was it done.
watching some british geezer do doco on train journeys throughout the United Kingdom in which he uses an old train travellers almanac to advise him etc - colorful character in his purple and pink outfits - but as an expat the series is rather nostalgic I am only disappointed that there are no steam engines rolling!
That’s yerman Mickey Portillo, I love that show, I got steam trains in me blood. He does wear funny clothes though, green trousers and pink jumpers, sometimes he even wears yellow trousers, what’s the deal there do you think?
I just stopped for petrol at the local BP service station.
When I pulled in, I noticed these two police sitting in their car and watching a woman who was smoking while fueling up. I was thinking, “Wow…what an idiot! The police are standing right there!”
I went inside and as I was paying, I heard someone scream, “Look outside!”
The woman’s arm was on fire!!!
She was running around like a chicken with its head cut off, waving her arm around and just going nuts. We all went outside and watched the police wrestle her to the ground and put the fire out with an extinguisher.
After all the craziness, I started walking to my car and I saw the cops put her in handcuffs.
So I went over to them and said “What in the world are you arresting her for? After all, wasn’t catching her arm on fire punishment enough?”
I kid you not…the policemen looked me dead in the eye and said, "For waving a Firearm
So much that is perceived as criminal is misconstrued, like the guys caught in the Churchyard at midnight, with a ladder, the Police did not understand, they weren’t “going Equipped”, they were “Green Campaigners” merely going to convert the roof to “Unleaded”.
As an infant I was taught by Dominican Nuns, I have great respect for them, so you can imagine my surprise when I read in this mornings paper that two nuns were arrested at the Donegal border yesterday, they had arms up their sleeves.
I’m off with the wife now for the weekend, see you all on Monday, be good now.
