My blogging has not been regular of late...and there has been much to say.  I'll save that for another day, but for this week I'm in Burgundy accompanying Caspar from Bowes Wine on a buying trip. 

More details on the new Bowes Wine blogspot.

And more from me later.

A bientot.

Some of you may have seen this before

REST OF THE WORLD VERSION:

The squirrel works hard in the withering heat all summer long, building and improving his house and laying up supplies for the winter.

The grasshopper thinks he's a fool, and laughs and dances and plays the summer away.

Come winter, the squirrel is warm and well fed.

The shivering grasshopper has no food or shelter, so he dies, out in the cold.

THE END ...but read on...

THE U.K. VERSION:

The squirrel works hard in the withering heat all summer long, building his house and laying up supplies for the winter.

The grasshopper thinks he's a fool, and laughs and dances and plays the summer away.

Come winter, the squirrel is warm and well fed.

A social worker finds the shivering grasshopper, calls a press conference and demands to know why the squirrel should be allowed to be warm and well fed while others less fortunate, like the grasshopper, are cold and starving.

The BBC shows up to provide live coverage of the shivering grasshopper; with cuts to a video of the squirrel in his comfortable warm home with a table laden with food.

The British press inform people that they should be ashamed that in a country of such wealth, this poor grasshopper is allowed to suffer so, while others have plenty. The Labour Party, Greenpeace, Animal Rights and The Grasshopper Council of GB demonstrate in front of the squirrel's house.

Ken Livingstone rants in an interview with Trevor McDonald that the squirrel got rich off the backs of grasshoppers, and calls for an immediate tax hike on the squirrel to make him pay his "fair share" and increases the charge for squirrels to enter inner London .

In response to pressure from the media, the Government drafts the Economic Equity and Grasshopper Anti Discrimination Act, retroactive to the beginning of the summer. The squirrel's taxes are reassessed.

He is taken to court and fined for failing to hire grasshoppers as builders for the work he was doing on his home and an additional fine for contempt when he told the court the grasshopper did not want to work.

The grasshopper is provided with a council house, financial aid to furnish it and an account with a local taxi firm to ensure he can be socially mobile. The squirrel's food is seized and re distributed to the more needy members of society, in this case the grasshopper.

Without enough money to buy more food, to pay the fine and his newly imposed retroactive taxes, the squirrel has to downsize and start building a new home.

The local authority takes over his old home and utilises it as a temporary home for asylum seeking cats who had hijacked a plane to get to Britain as they had to share their country of origin with mice. On arrival they tried to blow up the airport because of Britain 's apparent love of dogs.

The cats had been arrested for the international offence of hijacking and attempted bombing but were immediately released because the police fed them pilchards instead of salmon whilst in custody.

Initial moves to then return them to their own country were abandoned because it was feared they would face death by the mice. The cats devise and start a scam to obtain money from people's credit cards.

A Panorama special shows the grasshopper finishing up the last of the squirrel's food, though spring is still months away, while the council house he is in, crumbles around him because he hasn't bothered to maintain the house.

He is shown to be taking drugs. Inadequate government funding is blamed for the grasshopper's drug 'illness'.

The cats seek recompense in the British courts for their treatment since arrival in UK .

The grasshopper gets arrested for stabbing an old dog during a burglary to get money for his drugs habit. He is imprisoned but released immediately because he has been in custody for a few weeks.

He is placed in the care of the probation service to monitor and supervise him. Within a few weeks he has killed a guinea pig in a botched robbery.

A commission of enquiry, that will eventually cost £10,000,000 and state the obvious, is set up.

Additional money is put into funding a drug rehabilitation scheme for grasshoppers and legal aid for lawyers representing asylum seekers is increased.

The asylum-seeking cats are praised by the government for enriching Britain 's multicultural diversity and dogs are criticised by the government for failing to befriend the cats.

The grasshopper dies of a drug overdose. The usual sections of the press blame it on the obvious failure of government to address the root causes of despair arising from social inequity and his traumatic experience of prison.

They call for the resignation of a minister.

The cats are paid a million pounds each because their rights were infringed when the government failed to inform them there were mice in the United Kingdom .

The squirrel, the dogs and the victims of the hijacking, the bombing, the burglaries and robberies have to pay an additional percentage on their credit cards to cover losses, their taxes are increased to pay for law and order and they are told that they will have to work beyond 65 because of a shortfall in government funds.

THE END

The time has come to effect a little fleet management I fear.   The current car count stands at 7 and whilst all work, only 6 are road registered and legal.   The seventh sinner is a interesting beast; a 1991 Range Rover, ex Police vehicle.   Purchased from the previous owner of our house its intended use was to tow the flail mower and generally be a workhorse around the place.   In reality I use the Discovery and have had little need of it.

We've run the car a few times and while the steering is rather woolly and the brakes quite desperate, after I put a freshly charged battery in on Monday she started first turn of the key.   What a wonderful sound that 3.9 litre Rover V8 makes.  Big Mike and I gave her a quick clean up and at least I was impressed.

So, what to do?   Mike suggested contacting a club interested in ex Police vehicles which is a sound plan and as you can see from the pic below the car still sports some of the bespoke cop kit - and there's even more in the boot.

Not sure if I'll have any takers... if not I'll just have to restore her myself.   I can just see myself tootling round the lanes in a police liveried Rangie...or perhaps I can park opposite our drive and use the car as a warning to that damn motorcylist who seems to enjoy hurtling down our lane at an unfeasible and unsafe speed.   We'll see.

Obviously there should be more of them.   Especially more like this weekend.   Wonderful weather and a houseful of family and friends enjoying a bit more outdoor living.

Anyway, the main point of this post is to wax lyrical about local produce.   It is nice that we are lowering our carbon footprint by eating local lamb and veg from our garden although, as Big Mike pointed out, as soon as he starts his Rolls to head back to the Smoke, we're busted.

So the best thing about local produce is that it is fresh and tastes so much better.   The latter point is of course moot, but I'll stick my neck out.  

This weekend was full of home grown pumpkin, corn, corgettes and lamb from our fields roasted with our own garlic.  We also feasted on local crayfish and fresh caught brown trout, with home made mayonnaise from our own chickens.

Sound like the good life?   Sure.   And back to work on Tuesday morning with a big bump.   C'est La Vie.

I've taken a bit of stick recently for not posting enough... so will do better this week starting with a pic taken about 5 a.m. ish in our field.  

Many thanks to reader Tim for sending me this little gem, which is for all of us who are married, were married, wish we were married or wish we weren't married, this is something to smile about next time you see a bottle of wine:

Sally was driving home from one of her business trips in Northern Arizona when she saw an elderly Navajo woman walking on the side of the road.    As the car trip was long and a quiet one she stopped the car and asked the Navajo woman if she wanted a ride.  With a silent nod of thanks the woman got into the car.  

Resuming the journey Sally tried to make a bit of small talk with the Navajo woman.   The old woman just sat silently looking intently at everything she saw until she noticed a brown bag on the seat next to Sally.   

'What in bag?' asked the old woman.

Sally looked down at the brown bag and said, 'It's a bottle of wine.   I got it for my husband.'

The Navajo woman was silent for a moment or two.  Then, speaking with the quiet wisdom of an elder she said:

'Good trade....'

Well, is it?   They hype, the fuss, the late night book sales?
Is the story worthy of all this drama?
Does the plot and character development warrant all the media attention?

Sure.

And how do I know?   I have only read the last chapter at about 1 a.m., but the smile on Ash's face when she saw her copy, purchased from Tesco in Trowbridge just after midnight by big Mike, said it all.

When she's finished I might even get to read the rest.

I have to share this note recieved via e-mail last week......who knows if it is true.   I hope so...

Bill Gates recently gave a speech at a High School about 11 things they did not and will not learn in school. He talks about how feel-good, politically correct teachings created a generation of kids with no concept of reality and how this concept set them up for failure in the real world.

Rule 1: Life is not fair - get used to it!

Rule 2: The world won't care about your self-esteem. The world will expect you to accomplish something BEFORE you feel good about yourself.

Rule 3: You will NOT make $60,000 a year right out of high school. You won't be a vice-president with a car phone until you earn both.

Rule 4: If you think your teacher is tough, wait till you get a boss.

Rule 5: Flipping burgers is not beneath your dignity. Your Grandparents had a different word for burger flipping: they called it opportunity.

Rule 6: If you mess up, it's not your parents' fault, so don't whine about your mistakes, learn from them.

Rule 7: Before you were born, your parents weren't as boring as they are now. They got that way from paying your bills, cleaning your clothes and listening to you talk about how cool you thought you were. So before you save the rain forest from the parasites of your parent's generation, try delousing the closet in your own room.

Rule 8: Your school may have done away with winners and losers, but life HAS NOT. In some schools, they have abolished failing grades and they'll give you as MANY TIMES as you want to get the right answer. This doesn't bear the slightest resemblance to ANYTHING in real life.

Rule 9: Life is not divided into semesters. You don't get summers off and very few employers are interested in helping you FIND YOURSELF. Do that on your own time.

Rule 11: Be nice to nerds. Chances are you'll end up working for one.

I particularly like, 2, 4 and 8.   Much of the yoof of today would be well advised to listed.   However, like us, they will make their own mistakes.

Good advice.    More of the yoof of today should take it.

Big Mike alerted me to the fact that today is Bill Watterson's birthday.

Who?

Bill Watterson, creator of the greatest cartoon strip ever: Calvin and Hobbes.   The six year old boy with the stuffed tiger alter ego ran in the South China Morning Post (amongst many others) and, when withdrawn in a 'revamp', attracted so many complaints that it was reinstated the following week.

To understand the mind of this genius you only need to know one quote:

I won't eat any cereal that doesn't turn the milk purple.

See?

The lack of posts in recent days should not be interpreted as anything other than the practical consequence of the overwhelming amount of work that seems to have come my way recently.

It should in no way be linked to the current postal strike afflicting these shores.

Unkind people have suggested they did not actually notice any perceptible difference in the service of delivering letters.

But I couldn't possibly comment.

OK, it's been a very long time since I managed to post an update or a whinge on anything.... well, we've been busy.

Last week was half term so, after a few days at home in the rain, Shivs and I went off to do the Three Castles Welsh Classic Trial in Llandudno.    This was the same format as last year and despite the promise of terrible weather, we had a practically rain free 4 days of fabulous driving.

Toolkit Tim was also entered and purely through luck and a bigger engine he managed to beat us into 31st place overall and 2nd in class.   He was 25th and won our class.

The pic above was taken on the way home at the head of Horeshoe Pass with rally friend Derek and daughter Aimee in convoy with their MGA, 5 minutes after we'd stopped for an hour to fix Tim's cars' broken throttle cable.

If only it had happened during the rally, the results would have been so different........

Ah well.   There's next year.

My cynical blog the other day regarding the impending new Home Information Packs, seems to have turned out to be at least partly true, as their imposition from June 1st this year has been deferred to August due to a lack of adequate inspectors.

Well, only party deferred.   I suspect in order to save a little face - and of course raise money from us to pay for the investment to date in more state funded bureacracy - the HIP's will be required for homes with more than 4 bedrooms.

This part volte face was announced by Communities (sic) Minister, Ruth Kelly, just one week after her sidekick Yvette Cooper denied there was any shortage of inspectors and all would be well.

Spin spin spin.   You couldn't make this stuff up.

It's worse.   In what seems to have been a decision taken on the hoof as they walked to the House, the idea that only 4+ bedded houses will be included at this stage means that every estate agent in the land will be reaching for the euphemism handbook for new ways to describe Bed's 4, 5, etc. as there is no definition for what constitutes Bed 4.

Expect to see a lot of marketing guff for 3 bed homes, with studies, boxrooms, playrooms, dressing rooms, store rooms, wine stores, libraries, attics etc. etc.

Government.   It violates the Trades Description Act in my view.   But then, what would I know... I have a 3 bed house with 2 studies, a boxroom and an attic.

In an effort to increase the size of their congregation, ministers in the US have come up with a range of winning slogans.... I'll share a few over the next few weeks... starting with this one, from Nashville Tenessee.

Noah, along with all the other animals soon realised that the woodpecker just had to go.

Well well, in another really well thought out scheme to add bureacracy, control and state meddling, in what is already a stressful experience, Home Information Packs are due to become a legal requirement on June 1st.

However, whilst there has been a last minute rush to instruct estate agents to put homes on the market to avoid having to pay the costs and deal with the pain of preparing these packs, the latest is they may not become law after all.

In a rare moment of clarity His Tax and Wasteship is considering whether or not to support them.

Now, a cynical person might say this is just a PM in waiting looking to improve his public image in advance of starting his new job.

But I couldn't possibly comment.

In February, Kim Sutton was given an order that stated that she was not to "dip one toe or finger" in any river nor loiter about any bridge or multi-storey car park, after repeated suicide attempts had failed to achieve anything except wasted police time. Sutton has a personality disorder ...   more »

When we first pulled off the cover, it was very green.... but a week and some helpful chemicals later, it is deep inviting blue.   The clarity is not quite there, particularly at the deep end, but it was good enough for us to swim, both days, at the weekend.

The water remains cold, but we moved it up from 16C to 20C on Sunday and as of this evening it is 22C.

Here's hoping the warm weather lasts until next weekend.   Four perfect weekends in a row would be fabulous.

A young man named Gordon bought a donkey from an old farmer for £100.00.

The farmer agreed to deliver the donkey the next day, but when the farmer drove up he said, "Sorry son, but I have some bad news... the donkey is on my truck, but unfortunately he's dead."

Gordon replied, "Well then, just give me my money back."

The farmer said, "I can't do that, because I've spent it already."

Gordon said, "OK then, well just unload the donkey anyway."

The farmer asked, "What are you going to do with him?" "

Gordon answered, "I'm going to raffle him off."

To which the farmer exclaimed, "Surely you can't raffle off a dead donkey!"

But Gordon, with a wicked smile on his face said, "Of course I can, you watch me. I just won't bother to tell anybody that he's dead."

A month later the farmer met up with Gordon and asked, "What happened with that dead donkey?"

Gordon said, "I raffled him off, sold 500 tickets at two pounds a piece, and made a huge, fat profit!!"

Totally amazed, the farmer asked, "Didn't anyone complain that you had stolen their money because you lied about the donkey being dead?"

To which Gordon replied, "The only guy who found out about the donkey being dead was the raffle winner when he came to claim his prize. So I gave him his £2 raffle ticket money back plus an extra £200, which as you know is double the going rate for a donkey, so he thought I was great guy!!

Gordon grew up and eventually became the Chancellor of the Exchequer, and no matter how many times he lied, or how much money he stole from the voters, as long as he gave them back some of the stolen money, most of them, unfortunately, still thought he was a great guy.

The moral of this story is that, if you think Gordon is about to play fair and do something for the everyday people of the country for once in his miserable life, think again, because you'll be better off flogging a dead donkey.

This weekends fabulous weather allowed us to enjoy every meal outside on the terrace - and I can't recall when we last did that, in Hong Kong, or here in the UK.

Needless to say, each meal was accompanied by a variety of wines and on Sunday the talk turned to the perfect wine glass.   Those in the know favour Riedel - the shape of the glass really does make a difference to how it tastes - but as long as said receptacle is of sufficient size to accommodate the wine and room for it to breath I'm usually happy.

The perfect wine glass was proposed - I think by the Fisherman - as a glass with a bottle for a stem... and Shivs found the photo:

Perfect.

Progress.   Deep Blue pools arrived early on Saturday morning and worked their chemical magic on the pool.    The pH was spot on, chlorine high and algae quite bad.   Treatment was 'shocking, floccing and vaccing'.

First, a heavy dose of hydrochloric acid (no kidding) to kill the bugs followed by floccing with Aluminium sulphate which combines with the dead algae and drags them to the bottom where they can, after settling out, be vaccuumed away to waste.

The results were pretty dramatic as by Sunday eve I could vac the pool and remove all the dead leaves from the bottom of the deep end as well as most of the sediment.

By now it should have improved further and be ready for the weekend.... here's hoping for more of that glorious weather.

Finally, we've ordered a new solar cover - the old one was completely stuffed - which should be delivered in a couple of weeks.   Can't wait for the first dip.

 

Summer is almost upon us and with the stunning weather last weekend it was time to open up the pool.   Over the winter it has been 'winterised' with a cover and some chemicals but, as you can see from the pic, it has gone rather green.   I had the pumps working on Saturday, but will leave it for the pro's this weekend to restore it to it's former blue glory.  Hopefully I'll have a better picture by next week....

In the meantime I've pressure washed the patio with help from Ash and Bennet has reset a few tiles that were loose.   All we need now is for global warming to keep bringing us the hot weather.

It took 7 years to get the series made and against all the odds it has been a huge hit for the Beeb.   For those who haven't heard it is the story of a police officer, Sam Tyler who, after a hit and run accident, finds himself in 1973.   While struggling to understand whether he is in a coma, mad, or has gone back in time he joins the CID team lead by DCI Hunt.

Hunt is a solidly 'unreconstructed' '70's man.   His blunt speaking leaves no room for ambiguity ("Don't move - you are surrounded by armed bastards"). He cuts through Tyler's 21st-century, politically correct pseudo-babble to expose the nonsense we can end up speaking (Tyler: "I think we need to explore the chance this was a hate crime." Hunt: "What? As opposed to one of those ''I really, really like you murders?'').

When accused of being an "overweight, over-the-hill, nicotine-stained, borderline-alcoholic homophobe with a superiority complex and an unhealthy obsession with male bonding", he retorts: "You make that sound like a bad thing."

Famous for his one liners (''She was as nervous as a very small nun at a penguin shoot'') practically everying he says is either homophobic, racist, sexist or politically incorrect.   And as an antidote to the environment we live in today, it is refreshing.   Witness the exchange between Hunt, Tyler and WDC Annie Cartwright:

Hunt:  'Oi, Flash knickers, mines a coffee, two sugars'

Tyler:  'You can't speak to a woman police officer like that, she's a detective'

Hunt:  'Well luv, see if you can detect me a garibaldi to go with my coffee'

So how did they get away with reprising The Sweeney in 2007?   The secret was Tyler.   He is the moral guardian of our 21st century sensibilities, regularly reprimanding his boss; they squabble like an old married couple.

And the other reason is that Hunt has personal qualities that are, thankfully, still held in high regard.  In a world of short-term contracts, job insecurity and portfolio careers, Hunt's undying loyalty to his squad (even while rabidly insulting them) make us wistful for a time gone by when you had a job (and colleagues) for life.   And plain speaking was en vogue.

Back home after our ski trip I've downloaded my photos... had to share a few... starting with this one.    Taken with my new camera - an impulse purchase at Heathrow - a new Casio Exilim 7.3 megapixel to replace my ancient old 2 mp which has done very well, but whose battery life is now probibitively short.

The new one has fabulous image quality, but I've had to reduce it here for space reasons.. files are otherwise 5.5MB each and take far too long to load on a website.

This shot is taken from the top of Whistler mountain on the Burnt Stew Trail looking back into Garibaldi National Park above Singing Pass.  Spectacular scenery indeed.

Kenneth Farrow, who died in Cardiff on Friday aged 82, was awarded the George Cross for his gallantry when as a young policeman he jumped into fast flowing water in an attempt to save a four-year-old boy from drowning in 1948.

Tam Brown, of Tayside Fire Brigade who dived into the River Tay last month to save a drowning woman may be disciplined because he disregarded safety rules when there was "no statutory obligation to carry out rescues from moving water."

The 42-year old's actions breach fire service rules which don't allow firefighters to enter the water to rescue drowning victims. 

Both Brown and his watch manager, who agreed he should go in, are the subject of an investigation.

Somewhere between then and now we've got our values and priorities all mixed up but, thankfully, rules and regulations are no barriers to heroes.

We've had a spendid few days here and the conditions continue to be good... although we're now firmly into spring skiing from the -15C of Tuesday to 1C now... how the weather changes in the mountains!

Village temps of -5C a couple of days ago are now up to 11C and it is T shirt weather.   All very nice.. but what is it doing to the snow??   The freezing level is up to 2,700m which is really too high.   Luckily the base is still huge, but the top will be going sugary.   Just have to head high.

Tuesday we skiid Whistler and it was one of my better days.. the turns came together very well and I felt comfortable on my X-Wing Blast Salomons which I think are the best ski's I've hired and certainly a step up from the X-Screams of last year.   Or perhaps it was skiing in the sunshine that made all the difference!


Yesterday we went up Blackcomb and as usual the curse of flat light - but at least no fog - conspired to make me uneasy, sit back and ski badly.   I've loosened my boots a little as they were too tight and I was losing circuation and this has helped.

Whistler has continued to expand and has added access to a bowl previously only available to experts and hikers: Symphony.   The new lift is excelllent and the runs are a mix of open piste, off piste bowl and gladed runs towards the bottom.   The only downside is that it is a long way from Symphony back to Harmony and then over to Whisky Jack for lunch.   It is high though and I expect we will be skiing this for much of the rest of the holiday.

Toolkit went Heli Skiing yesterday and had a fabulous time and most of us are taking a rest day today as 5 days in a row at our age is just too tiring.    More tomorrow.

If ever there was a strong sense of deja vu then this is it.   Probably because we are back in the same house for the third year in a row, with (mostly) the same crowd.

Along with the usual family gathering of Noodle, Electric Pete and Toolkit Tim although Brixton Boy is not here this year as he's on his Beers of the World Tour.   Blenda and co are here from Hong Kong and Captain Colin arrived last night.

Saturday was a slow one for most as we'd arrived quite late and Shivs and Blenda stayed up most of the night and tried to drink all the wine.   They weren't first out of the traps in the morning so, as usual, it was Toolkit, Pete and me who were dressed and off to the mountain for some turns.

KLM had decided not to send Tim's boots with him and the rest of his luggage, so he had to hire boots and once were were ready it was on the Fitzimmons Express and away we went.

A stunning day in the sun with good skiing above the Emerald and Red chairs and a bit icy / skiid off below.

Yesterday was not as nice - it was snowing and windy... but net result was at least another 3 in of snow, which will refresh the top.  

The kids start their ski camp today so we are up early (06.30and ready to go.... so much for a holiday!   

Once again a real present eludes me... so this will have to suffice... for now:

A real garden design is in the works as the real present.   Happy B'day Shivs!

Until now I have not got very excited about skiing next week.   Pressure of work and so much else going on have occupied my time.

But an article in todays Here is the City about a 'banker' taking to skiing down escalators in Tube stations had me reaching for the keybooard and typing WhistlerBlackcomb.com

They've had quite a season with over 500 inches of snow and a forecast of more to come over the next week.   Freezing level remains below 1000 metres, with the village at 675 this is looking good.

From Stephen, clearly a wannabe BMW owner, this little driving piece:

The other day I was cruising along as usual coming onto one of my motorways, which was very busy with inferior cars. Firstly, I couldn't believe that the flow of traffic DIDN'T slow down for me AT ALL as I came off the slip road! I had to squeeze into a tiny gap between two cars in order to get onto my motorway! (The driver of the car behind me did realise his mistake though and honked an apology to me with a long blast of his horn.)

Unbelievably, I had to do the same again before I could get to the BMW lane. (Why do underlings use this lane? Surely everyone knows it is for BMW drivers only?). Anyway, once in the BMW lane and posing along at 110mph enjoying the adulation that the inferior car drivers were giving me, I noticed an inferior car ahead of me which was not only in the BMW lane of my motorway, but was driving at a ridiculous 70 mph!

Naturally, I got to within a foot or so of his rear bumper and flashed my headlights to remind him he shouldn't be in the BMW lane of my motorway and to get out the way. Of course, once he realised it was a BMW behind him, he did just that, but I could hardly believe it when he pulled straight back out behind me! He tried to keep up with me and when he realised I would out-run him, he put on some Council house type, blue flashing lights hidden in his front grille. He urged me to get onto the hard shoulder so that he could congratulate me on my excellent car and driving skills.

Needless to say, I was eager to oblige and when we had stopped, the man gave me a piece of paper confirming what I already knew - my car goes fast! Apparently he wants everyone to know what a superior car I have, so I had to take my licence to a Police Station to be sent away to have some points put on! (They're not free either - they're £20 each and I was only allowed 3). But the man at the Station said that as I drive a BMW, it won't be much longer before I earn the full 12 points, and then I won't even NEED a driving licence, so they will take it off me!.

 

And whilst BMW drivers sit like teutonic lemmings in the outside lane, the aged and treacherous Jag owners undertake on the left.

David at Tressillian has changed his photoblog host ... and has promised daily photo updates of his recent trips to Hong Kong and Australia... so if you want you daily photo fix... click here.

As David says, Hong Kong may have changed dramatically over the last 30 years, but some things are constant.   The old Star Ferry pier has gone, but the boats still criss cross the harbour all day, every day.   There is no better way of getting from Tsim Sha Tsui to Central - particularly in the evening when all the lights are on.

The Jag seems to have caused a difference of opinion.   Mr FM, whose automotive transport choice starts and ends with LandRovers (and I can't say I blame him - I love my Discovery too) was not uncomplimentary about the car per se... but did feel it an old man's car.    Hmmmph.

He took it upon himself to run an Blog Poll on my new motor...the results of which can be found here.  

I will remain unrepentant and enjoy the smooth ride, understated elegance and monster grunt.   For the record the car has no pipe holder, did start today and has does not have the Conservative Club, or Golf Club address programmed into it's Sat Nav.

I just pray it will be reliable, or I'll be eating humble pie for the next 12 months.

I may keep you posted.

Reader Pheasant Martin sent these.... I so hope they are true and particularly like the one about the bomb technician....

WARNINGS ISSUED BY THE US MILITARY TO THEIR OWN TROOPS:

 

"Aim towards the enemy." - Instruction printed on US Rocket Launcher.

 

"When the pin is pulled, Mr Grenade is not our friend." - US Marine Corps.

 

"Cluster bombing from B-52s is very, very accurate. The bombs are guaranteed to always hit the ground." - USAF Ammo Troop.

 

"If the enemy is in range, so are you." - Infantry Journal.

 

"A slipping gear could let your M203 grenade launcher fire when you least expect it. That would make you quite unpopular in what is left of your unit." - Army's magazine of preventive maintenance.

 

"It is generally inadvisable to eject directly over the area you just bombed. U. S. Air Force Manual.

 

"Try to look unimportant; they may be low on ammo." - Infantry Journal.

 

"Tracer rounds work both ways." - US Army Ordnance.

 

"Five-second fuses only last three seconds." - Infantry Journal.

 

"Any ship can be a minesweeper... once." - Anon.

 

"Do not draw fire; it irritates the people around you." - Your comrades.

 

"If you see a bomb technician running, try to keep up with him - USAF Ammo Troop.

 

As we continue to tackle the myriad of tasks to repair, reclaim, renovate our house, it is sometimes beneficial to reflect on a little success.

One of the urgent tasks we faced was to construct a new chicken run.   Ideally we wanted it down at the bottom of one of the fields away from the house.   But we are a long way from creating a decent access to that field and I felt we needed it nearer.   Shivs wanted a vegetable garden and an overgrown area behind the workshops needed sorting.

A mound of nettles had at one time probably been a compost heap, but it was mixed with old builders sacks and general rubbish.   The ground was a bit soft, but we set to and cleared it.   An incoming power line runs to the pole on the left and then down to the workshop and the area in the foreground was lawned to the left and grassed over gravel path on the right.   The gravel courtyard had originally lead round the back of the garden to the menage, but years of neglect had seen it grow over... clearing it was not easy.

We needed to create a raised vegetable garden and, after a false start of making it too big, we formed a U shape.   All the old grass and weeds were removed, soil dug over and broken up.   Compost was mixed in and we were ready for planting.

I wasn't exactly inundated with responses to yesterdays little teaser... only one reader ventured a guess.... and that was wrong.

Quote 1.   ''Any man who can drive safely while kissing a pretty girl is simply not giving the kiss the attention is deserves'' was of course Albert Einstein while...

Quote 2.   ''For all my education, accomplishments, and so called 'wisdon'.. I can't fathom my own heart'', was Michael Caine.

So, own up, were you right?

On another note, UK disability rights group are up in arms about Heather Mills's prosthetic leg. Apparently Paul McCartney's soon-to-be-ex-wife is to feature next month on US TV show 'Dancing With The Stars'.  And a UK online gambling site has been taking bets on whether her prosthetic leg will fall off during a dance routine.  Legal experts say that Ms Mills could always sue, but a lawsuit will probably not stand up in court.   Tee Hee.