Birthday prezzie SURPRISE.

 

It was my birthday last month, and whilst Wills was in Zurich he visited the world famous Bucherer store.

So, I am now the owner of a really lovely new (pre-used) watch.

I haven't worn a watch for decades. I've relied on either Lady M, a big clock in the kitchen, or the bells from our nearby village church; and in the UK much the same other than I don't have a big clock in the kitchen.

Wills bought me an Oyster Perpetual Datejust. A simple but very elegant watch, that amazingly came with two 'Teaspoons' made by the same famous maker; very chic!

I really wasn't expecting a birthday present, let alone a watch. What a lovely, thoughtful, and generous boy he is.

I've said it before; I am really blessed with my two sons (and my daughter, of course). I really don't deserve them.

I shan't mention the make of the watch in case I get mugged! But it rhymes with 'smug bast*rd'.

Tommy Emmanuel, Jim Nichols, Richard Smith. I'll see you in my dreams.

I have always said that I prefer to listen to 'mediocre' live music, rather than perfectly played recorded music. Nothing compares to being there, and experiencing the moment.

However, this is almost as good as 'being there'. Watching these three masters of their craft playing this wonderful tune is a total pleasure. I admire their skill enormously. Three men, three guitars, and loads of genius, makes this video a classic in many respects. 

Enjoy.

Almost done!

There's a good side to everything, and in this case it's 'untidiness'.

Our farmers, and pathway-mowers, have been very lax this year, so for a change we have hedgerows filled with Blackberries. Usually, just before the fruits are ripe, along they come with their tractors and hedge cutters, and destroy everything.

We've very nearly finished our jam making for 2025, we have just the Fig jam to make, but for the moment they are reluctant to ripen.

It's hardly jam-making weather; it's about 38 C outside, but certain things cannot wait; one of which is jam making; especially berry-jams.

I've only made three jars, but that will be enough. With my third jar I made the mistake of using ordinary sugar instead of Jam sugar, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed that it'll set like the other two. (Later: It has set)

I would like to make some Fig jam, but I'll have to wait and see if they ripen in time. I think they need to be semi-ripe. Maybe it's a bad idea anyway.

So far we have Plum, Apricot, Greengage, and Blackberry Jams. That's probably enough.

The best time of day.

It's about 7 am. I've done all my laptop stuff, so I'm now off to do some outdoor cleaning.

Around the pool there are always leaves and dead flowers to be swept away, there are always a few creepy-crawlies etc floating on the water that need to be removed, and there are the two skimmers to be cleaned and refilled with tabs (if necessary).

It's warm and the early morning sunshine is hitting the 'pump house' wall. I wear just a pair of shorts; no shoes or T shirt. The whole 'beach' cleaning process takes about 15 mins, unless I'm vacuuming the bottom of the pool as well.

It's so quiet. I feel as if I'm the only person who's up and about. I sit on the bench in the quiet, and simply soak-up the atmosphere. I am often tempted to have an early morning swim, but as usual I'll leave that to pre-lunchtime.

With Kimbo, Wills, and Boo Boo now gone, it feels a little sad. However, I have lots of work to do, and we have friends arriving from Barbados. Before we know it, we'll be heading back to Blighty, for Autumn, Winter, and Christmas.

As I sit on the bench I try to fix the moment into my mind. I try to preserve the warmth, the view, and the whole ambiance, just like our Summer jams, to be opened and enjoyed at a later date.

Yesterday evening, as we were sitting by the pool, a small flock of Swallows flew down to skim some water. They are so agile; there isn't a huge amount of room for them to manoeuver, but they managed perfectly.

 

Emigration.

With the awful mess that our present government is making of the economy (amongst other things) there is an unprecedented rush for 'professionals' to quit the UK for a better life elsewhere. 

When I left the UK back in 1972, it wasn't for any reasons of dissatisfaction, it was that I wanted to raise my children (I had 2 at the time) in a warm bucolic area, where I could afford the luxury of a large old farmhouse and a decent amount of land.

The photo below shows my sister and I on board the liner taking her off to live in New Zealand. At the time she had been working in Knightsbridge, and I was in The City.

Moving abroad must run in our family veins. My own daughter lives in Australia, and my youngest son lives in Thailand. My lovely cousin Stephen moved to Canada, and even my own father considered moving to either S Africa or Canada (but didn't).

There is no question that the UK of a few decades ago has now gone for ever, and it now seems like a totally different country. When you hear that 25% of our NHS doctors are thinking of leaving the UK, you know something's very wrong.

 

Dying Chimp Says Goodbye To Old Friend

I originally thought the man in this video was Johnny Morris, but I see that it's the Dutch Biologist Jan Van Hooff, who is an expert in 'primates'.

The video reminds me of the night I sat up with Freddie (my lovely cat). I knew he was dying, so I stayed with him for an hour or so until he was fast asleep, the next morning I found him lifeless. I am so pleased that he knew I was there beside him; I'm sure that animals appreciate that just as humans do.

K -K -K -Katie

 

My youngest son was at school with the lovely Katie (below), but not in the same 'stream'. He didn't really have much to do with her, even though they were contemporaries. However, he does remember her.

After school Katie did some modelling, and became what we call in the UK 'A Page 3 Girl'. In other words, she took her clothes off for money.

At some stage she thought she didn't look how she wanted to look, so she had bits enlarged, bits tucked, and other bits tightened. She became known for it, and seemed never to be out of the newspapers with some new trip to Poland, or Turkey, or other places, to have more cosmetic surgery.

Her nips-n-tucks all cost a huge amount of money, and what cash she'd made through her 'modelling career' soon disappeared, and she eventually became bankrupt; owing over £3.5 Million. Her 'mucky mansion' was seized, as were her pink cars, horses, and anything else of value.

So now, after all those years of 'beauty treatments', she looks like this (below).

Money well spent you might say. I'm sure by now she must have achieved her goal, and looks how she always wanted to look.

Good on yer Katie, you look gorgeous Babe. Those lips are so kissable, and that smile so appealing. It takes a lot of money to look so good!

Oh; and all your tattoos (out of view) are FAB!

A day in the life...

Kimbo: Who are these people behind me?

Lady M: Look, I've been working my hands to the bone!

Wills: Are you sure this jam doesn't contain meat?

Cro (wearing new watch): There's a wasp drowning in my coffee!

Boo Boo: Leave me alone, I'm still in bed.

Just a typical breakfast with the Magnon family. Croissants, Pain au Chocolat, Coffee, Home-made jams, amusing repartee, planning the day's events, plenty of irrational suggestions.

We decided to go to the lovely market in the village of Cazals. Far too many people, mostly Brits, with the women wearing long diaphanous dresses and large straw hats, and the men in awful shorts sandals and long socks. We head for a shady bar and drink ice cold beer before heading home for lunch.

Lunch is varied. I eat water melon, others eat bread and cheese, someone even opened a tin of mackerel in a white wine sauce. No two people ate the same things. All very relaxed.

Swimming, snoozing, walks with Billy. For supper I cook roast chicken and roast potatoes with a salad. We eat quite late then attempt to empty Europe's 'wine lake' until our sides begin to burst from laughter. We play 'Guess the flavour' with our crisps.  It's been just another sunny summer's day in the Magnon household. Boo Boo has kept us amused, we also played a very silly general knowledge game (but with Kimbo's oddball rules), and we all retire feeling well fed and very tired.

It's been about 28 C, and tomorrow (today) will be 33 C. Still not overpowering, but it's heating up again after a brief lull. Traditionally heat builds-up to mid August, then we have violent storms.

We have all that to look forward to. Kimbo flew back to Blighty yesterday afternoon. Otherwise, all is well.

 

My father's birthday

Certain birthdays are etched into my memory; others that I should remember, are sadly not.

Today, August 5th, was my late father's birthday, which I never forget. He was born in 1905.

I suppose he was very typical of his ilk. Privately educated, he was reserved, correct, and honest. He worked hard and was successful. He was also highly respected. However, as a 'father' he probably lacked certain skills, as I expect many of his era did.

I don't ever remember kicking a Football with him, or playing Cricket in the garden. But at the age of about 11 he did buy me a BSA Air Rifle; which I still have. It was very out of character, and I was never sure what he thought I'd do with it.

I still regret that I wasn't with him when he died. He'd suddenly been moved to a different hospital, and I hadn't been informed. A day later I received the inevitable phone call that said he'd 'gone'. I would liked to have been with him, and held his hand, as I was with my mother; but it wasn't to be. I do hope he didn't think that I'd abandoned him, but I suspect he would have been unconscious.

His photo hangs in my sitting room here in France. I have so much to thank him for. I shall look at his picture today and do so.

 

Pride weekend

It's been 'Pride' weekend in Brighton. Probably one of the biggest LGBT parades in the UK.

Brighton (and adjoining Kemp Town) are well known for being a very liberal community, and have been at the core of the UK gay scene from time immemorial.  

I've never actually been in Brighton for Pride Weekend, so I cannot report first-hand. However, my DIL, Suzie, is there at the moment and sent me photos. The whisp of silver hair in the photo belongs to my good friend Sami, who just happened to be amongst the roadside audience. Susie was standing behind her, with Sami unaware.

The naughty angel seems to be enjoying himself.

 

My boys.

If anyone had asked if I like surprises or not, I would probably have sad "Not".

However, it came as an extremely PLEASANT surprise that when Wills and Boo Boo arrived yesterday afternoon, they were accompanied by Kimbo. The scallywags had organised it all in secret in advance and they'd picked him up at Brive airport. I could hardly believe my eyes. Champagne was consumed by all; even one sip by Boo Boo. 

Both my boys do enjoy the finer things in life, and Wills arrived in this Merc' CLE 200 Cabriolet (top speed 236 km/h). A Cruise Missile on wheels. Personally I'm happy with just an engine, steering wheel, and gear stick; too many gadgets in a car frightens me.

But I must admit; it IS a gorgeous car!

The boys surprised me in another way too. I woke yesterday morning to find that I now have a brand new internet service that actually works! I'm making Elon Musk even richer than he already is by having subscribed to his superb STARLINK service; and what a difference compared to the rubbish French Orange Internet we've had until now. I now have a speed of 330 Mb/s whereas before it didn't even reach 1 Mb/s (if that means anything to anyone). Wills went up on the roof after I'd gone to bed (below). They set up the whole system (during the night) without my knowing.

Incidentally; Musk's STARLINK will cost us 40 Euros a month, whereas our Rubbish ORANGE was 60 Euros a month. No brainer! God riddance to ORANGE!

As you can imagine, a few tiles broke in the process of installing the dish, and those were all replaced too.

So, a few days of fun ahead. Boo Boo is loving being back here, he seems to be in his element. Billy is, of course, loving having him here too; they are inseparable. I think the weather is getting back to Summerish too; perfect timing.

There was also another wonderful surprise, but I'll keep that for another day!

 

Hunting in August?

You can imagine my surprise when, yesterday morning, I left the house to find three hunters amongst the Sunflowers, about 20 yards from my front door.

They looked like a bunch of ex-Army mercenaries. They were wearing full camouflage clothing, and two of them carried very high-powered-looking rifles, with big fat silencers and telescopic sights. The third just had a pair of binoculars. The two with the guns had them resting on shoulder-height 'props'.

They stood in amongst the Sunflowers looking south into the valley below; hoping, no doubt to see a few Deer with targets painted on their sides.

As soon as they saw me they turned and went away. I tried to take a photo of them, but only managed to take one of the grass. However I did see them get into a car and they drove off. You might just see their car behind the leafy twig in the middle of my awful photo above.

Hunting here starts on September 8th, so what these people were up to I have no idea; poaching I presume.

With all the kit they had, it was more like target practice than hunting. Thank goodness no Deer were about, they wouldn't have stood a chance.

I'm not anti hunting, but I do like it to be done correctly, and with safety in mind. These people would have been shooting blind, without seeing what was behind their targets; an absolute SIN in the world of hunting. There are always a few deaths amongst hunters each year, no doubt that will continue!

I hope they didn't shoot anything.

 

Shakatak - Night Birds

I bought my home in Brighton in 1985, around the time when 'Nightbirds' was a hit record. I bought the album (on cassette) and played it relentlessly; I may even still have it somewhere.

Shakatak were a London band, and I believe they are still going strong today!

There was some very good music around at that time, especially from female singers, and this song still brings back great memories.

Veggie Mercredi.

 

I am continuing to stick to my veggie-ness on Wednesdays. Like eating fish on Fridays, it's a ritual that is worth the upkeep.

This last Wednesday I changed my 'Compost Fry-up' slightly, and added a dollop of Thai Red Curry Paste instead of the usual sprinkling of Cumin Powder.

It was remarkably good. Not a pukka curry at all, but simply a well-flavoured mélange of vegetables (potatoes, courgettes, peppers, beans, and a few mushrooms).

I shall certainly be doing this again.

Vegetarian eating is all well and good, as long as I occasionally have some meat to eat. Like so many quasi-Veggies who pop into McDonald's for a burger whilst no-one's looking, I need my meat fix on a regular basis. However, I do feel more 'encouraged' to eat Veggie whilst I'm here. Simplicity (as in my Compost fry-up) seems to go better with a warmer climate, and a glass or two of Piquette.

I suppose it's the cuisine of hotter and poorer countries that seems to suit the life-style here too. Plenty of Pasta, Rice, Couscous, and Pulses, combined with a minimum of actual cooking is our preferred way of eating. We also like to take our time; it's all far more relaxed!

Portsmouth Sinfonia : "Also sprach Zarathustra"

I recently posted this same piece of music played by a Swedish school 'orchestra'.

Here it is again being played by The Portsmouth Sinfonia.

The PS was originally founded by some 'scallywag' art students from the Portsmouth School of Art back in 1970. Brian Eno famously played with them on occasions (I think that's him on the far right front row), and I believe they even gave a concert at London's Royal Albert Hall. They gave their final concert in 1979. 

Enjoy!

GOTCHA!

The Far Right football fans of No 10 Downing Street, have being showing their true colours, and have placed their enigmatic flags over the windows to welcome home England's Lionesses after their spectacular win of The UEFA Women's European Cup.

The Far Right thugs themselves stayed away from the cameras, and held a Cabinet Meeting to discuss new ways for the Lionesses' fans to intimidate future opponents.

"It's game of two arves innit mate" said one cabinet member "And we'll give any cheering opponent a good kicking in the second arf" (loud cheers from entire cabinet).

Well done ladies!

 

UK riots: clashes at Rotherham hotel housing asylum seekers

There is one basic truth in politics worldwide; no matter of what persuasion. If politicians don't listen to the concern of their voters, those voters will eventually take matters into their own hands. Ignore the major concerns of the public at your peril.

The whole question of illegal immigrants, and the cost to the nation of their pleasant hotel accommodation, has now spilled out onto the streets throughout the country. People are furious at what is happening, and are prepared to demonstrate their anger.

Personally I have always hated violent protests, but I suppose this is their last resort. What more can the people of Britain do?

British politician Enoch Powell warned of what was to come back in 1968, but people called him a 'racist'. These days they would say that he totally underestimated the problem.

Life at home.

We've been back here for about 7 weeks now, and we're just about getting things back into shape.

Billy settled in very quickly, but WE were still searching for lost things after several weeks. One thing that we always need to remember are the best 'brands' for all our favourite products. Mostly we remember what's what, but occasionally I totally forget and buy some horrible inferior product; which usually gets thrown away. We really should make a list.

When my youngest son sold his lovely barn-conversion home behind us, most of his major possessions were shipped out to him, but a lot came down here. As a result we are a tad over-stocked with many things; especially in our tiny kitchen. I need to do some 'sorting'.

When I originally bought this little house, it was simply a one room ruin with hardly any roof (the bit in the middle above) in a field. It had a dust floor, no water or electricity, and no physical comforts whatsoever. It simply had an ancient stone sink and a huge fireplace. I loved it instantly. The view from the front is just perfect. We lived about 100 metres away when I bought it`.

Out in the woods, after considerable rain and heat, there are now a few mushrooms. I found these three young Cepes yesterday afternoon. One accompanied a Magret for dinner last night, the others will make a fabulous lunchtime omelet today.

Back at home our Greengages are dropping by the bucket load. I did notice that there always seem fewer on the ground in the mornings than there were in the evenings, so I laid a simple test. I laid 10 Plums in a straight row, and in the morning they were all gone. The Deer must be visiting in the night and having a feast. Good for them!

The temperature has dropped considerably over the past few days, and our yesterday's swim was in 22 C water. Very different to the 28 C of a few days ago. 

There are only two things that I consider to be my life's 'legacy'. Firstly is the restoration of this cottage, with its Pool and Tower, and secondly are my paintings, many of which are in collections spread around the world. I haven't really done much else, other than producing three lovely, hard working, and successful children. 

We're hoping that No 1 son, Kimbo, will take-over the running of the cottage before too long. We're training him!

 

Counting Sheep.

 

Yan, tan, tethera, methera, pip, sethera, lethera, hovera, dovera, dick.

I shall be testing you later!

I love Pasta.

Just as Wednesdays are 'Veggie Wednesdays', and Fridays are 'Fish Days', Saturdays in this house are always devoted to PASTA. 

I used to love Spaghetti with heavy meat/tomato sauces, but over the years I've begun to like very simple sauces; in fact the simpler the better.

My current favourite is Red Pesto. I've found a very good Italian maker of Red Pesto which is really excellent. It goes under the name of 'Tradizioni d'Italia', and is just as you want a pesto to be.

I put a couple of heaped spoonsful into a pan with some olive oil and a splash of red wine. Heat for a while then throw in the cooked spaghetti and toss until covered. Nothing could be quicker, and nothing could be more delicious. A sprinkling of Grano Padano (not Parmesan) and Luigi's your uncle!

Italian students live on a diet of spaghetti with olive oil and garlic, but if you have a son or daughter heading off for uni' in the UK; teach them this. Cheap, Quick, Delicious.

 

Le Baise-Main.

 

Macron's recent visit to the UK reminded me of this.

The Baise-Main is a quaint French custom. It involves kissing the air about a centimeter above the back of a lady's hand.

But beware, the practice is filled with dangers. One cannot go around simply kissing the hands of just anyone; anywhere. As a schoolboy, I was always taught that the recipient must be a married woman. I was also taught that a Baise-Main only ever takes place in the lady's own home; but this seems to be ignored these days. We were also taught that one never kisses a gloved hand or that of a lady wearing a hat. Bizarre rules!

I did notice that when Marcon visited the UK recently that he kissed the hand of the Princess of Wales whilst she was wearing a hat; so maybe such petty details are ignored these days.

I've never been a big Baise-Main person. The only woman who was worthy of such things, in my immediate entourage, was our village Chatelaine, Lucienne, but we always exchanged 'bisous' as we were very good friends. So I lost the habit.

I do try to stick by the etiquette that I was taught as a child/youth, but these days one is regarded as an 'antique' if one abides by the stricter rules of Courtoisie.

These days it's more common to just say "All right mate?", to which the usual reply is "Yeah, all right". No Baise-Main, or formalities. That's the way things are in the 21st C.

Swedish Child Orchestra - Richard Strauss - Also Sprach Z...

For all you music lovers out there, here is a Swedish school 'orchestra' playing Strauss's 'Also Sprach Zarathrustra'. I know you'll recognise the tune. I think they do a fine job.

Life of Riley.

This very exclusive 4 Star hotel in London's fashionable Canary Wharf, is to become the next home to illegal immigrants.

We are all aware that by far the majority of people who come here illegally, from the Middle East or Africa, are not 'refugees' but economic migrants. And they are arriving in alarming numbers to take advantage of our crazy generosity. There are estimated to be around 750,000 at the moment.

The Britannia Hotel, which normally costs over £200 per night per person, is being rented in its 'entirety' by The Home Office, and will make the owner very rich indeed. No doubt an agreement has also been made for a total refurbishment to be undertaken when eventually the 'refugees' all leave (if they ever do).

I can assure you that I cannot afford to live in the lifestyle of these immigrants. Having paid some scoundrel £Thousands to cross the channel in a rubber boat, they are then given free food and luxury accommodation, a certain amount of spending money on an 'ASPEN Card', and occasionally even a free mobile phone. It's a pretty good life, that WE all have to pay for. 

Of course none of this is an excuse for rioting, but we're mid-Summer and it's the season for stone-throwing and insult-flinging, and there are plenty of people out there who intend to make trouble. I believe that the infamous Tommy Robinson will be joining them today, which will only make things worse.

I was listening to a very angry man on the radio last night. He was 65 years old, had worked all his life until illness forced him to stop, and he lost his flat. For the past 3 years he has been living in his car and has been waiting for some form of 'social housing', with no luck.

However, he sees foreigners arriving by boat daily, who are instantly given rooms in luxury hotels. He was extremely angry, and we can all understand why.

Tempting Tapenade.

Most of us probably buy our Tapenade ready-made in jars, but making your own couldn't be easier.

I made Green Tapenade simply because there was a large pack of Green Olives lurking in the fridge.

Ingredients: 300 gms drained pitted Green Olives, one medium sized clove of Garlic, and about 5 Anchovies. Place in small blender, and add Olive oil. Keep whizzing and adding Olive oil until the right consistency. I also add just a very few flakes of dried chili (I live dangerously). Do not add salt or pepper.

This is SERIOUS Tapenade as made in Provence. It has real BITE, and is not for the faint-hearted. The raw Garlic gives it quite a kick, and the Anchovies add the saltiness. You will smell like a Garlic Factory for the whole day; if not a week!

I had some for my breakfast yesterday, and it gave me the boost I was hoping for. I've been skipping around the garden ever since, singing 'Sur le Pont d'Avignon'.

How very practical.

I know I'm not alone in using quite a lot of white wine in the kitchen.

In the UK I'm obliged to buy a bottle of cheap white (£5), and keep it in the fridge. A bottle will probably last for several weeks, and thankfully doesn't 'go off' (unlike red).

But here in France I buy small 6-packs of white, specifically for cooking. The small plastic bottles contain 250 ml, and are ideal. They take no room in the fridge, and are always on hand. What a very good idea!

So, Mr Sainsbury and Mr Tesco, why not start importing these little 6-packs. Everyone would buy them (as they do here), and everyone would be happy.

I certainly would be. And it would save me having one more big glass bottle in the fridge door.

 

More Jam.

I've not made Greengage Jam before; I've only bottled them.

We have a huge crop this year, so yesterday I decided to have a go. I quartered the (not too ripe) Greengages, cooked them down with the juice of one Lemon, then added the Jam Sugar and boiled for 5 mins. I didn't follow any specific recipe, but presumed that all Plum recipes would be similar. I used 700 gms of prepared Greengages to 450 gms Jam Sugar.

I only wanted to make two jars, as we already have a lot of jam in stock (Plum, Apricot, and Strawberry). And I still have some Fig, and Blackberry, to make. 

The resulting jam has set perfectly, and tastes very good. We won't need to buy any jam for a couple of years.

We had quite a big Fruit and Veg' garden when I was small, and Mother would always make as many different jams as she could. My favourite was Quince Jelly, which had the most beautiful colour and a haunting aroma; it was kept for special occasions. We have a very productive Quince tree here, but the process is too long and complicated, so I don't bother.

However, I am really hoping to find enough Blackberries to make a couple of jars of Bramble Jelly. It all depends on how tidy my farming neighbours will be this year. Usually just as the Blackberries are almost ready, someone comes along and 'tidies' them.

A First!

When I opened the fridge door and saw this; I was shocked.

Not in the long and distinguished history of the Magnon family has anyone ever left a bottle of Champagne half consumed.

Worse even, is the fact that a special stopper had been purchased, and employed, in order to attempt to save its freshness.

I did ask if anyone knew who had committed this appalling act, but no-one was prepared to own-up. I almost considered calling in The Champagne Police to have fingerprints taken, so that the culprit could be caught and punished (Guillotined?).

                                                         

Our guests have now gone, and it's all very quiet. However, we are expecting more early next month (or even before). 

Most disasters have been avoided. The bathroom hand-basin 'plug hole' suddenly started leaking, but we were able to find a replacement, and all was fixed. My self-inflicted food poisoning has almost gone. And a slight problem back in Brighton meant that Suzie had to suddenly fly back ONE DAY early.

Having family here is always fun. We're now looking forward to seeing Wills and Boo Boo; two more of our favourite people.

They'll be enjoying the sights of Switzerland for another week before coming to see the 'old folks'.

 

Count Arthur Strong: Flying Lesson

Count Arthur Strong (hat and red bow-tie) isn't to everyone's taste, but I particularly like this sketch.

CAS being his usual bumbling self.

Mon ami.

If you don't have a driving licence, then this could be for you!

These funny little 'cars' are appearing all over France. They are the latest version of France's very sensible policy of having cars for people who don't have driving licences; in other words for people 'who can't drive'.

The Citroen Ami is a two seater electric car that has a driving time of about four hours and can achieve around 45 Km/h; giving a round-trip distance of around 180 Kms.

In France you can drive one of these from the age of 14. Years ago all young people whizzed around on Mobylettes, making a horrible noise. The spotty youths gathered in large groups in town or village centers, and revved their machines en masse until they almost melted. Of course, making them sound as loud and as sporty as possible was de riguer, and 'go-fast' kits were available everywhere.

The 'Ami' will not have the same appeal to the spotty 14 year old as a moped, but at least it will give him an option. They cost about 8,000 Euros. Cheap!

I suspect they will mostly be used by the elderly who live on isolated farms; just as the previous versions of 'sans permit' cars had been.

 

Sick as a Parrot.

 

I'm not very well at the moment. There are five of us here at present, and it's only me who is unwell, so I'm not sure what I did to myself.

I was vomiting through last night, and still feel very rough this morning. I'm sure you have no desire to hear the grizzly details, but I'm going to tell you anyway.

I cannot remember the last time I was sick; it must be well over ten years ago, twenty even. The human body has two MAJOR faults. Firstly teeth made of a material that rots; and secondly vomiting.

We keep an old enameled 'gazunda' upstairs in case of such rare occasions. I MUST add that it is NOT there for its intended use.

On hearing ghastly noises from above, the lovely Nurse Kimbo came to my rescue (as he always does), and heroically emptied the receptacle; TWICE! How many sons would do that??? It really is beyond the call of filial duty.

To add to my woes, my internet connection is almost at zero. It's like going back to the bad old days of Dial-up. I spend my time waiting and waiting. I think there are simply too many people using the miserable service. We are looking into a different type of connection.

Pomegranates.

I'm always rather surprised and amused that I am able to grow Pomegranates here at the cottage.

They have never managed to become edible, but I live in hope. I don't think our climate is quite right for them to ripen fully.

Still, they look nice, and maybe one day I'll even be able to eat one; although I'm not holding my breath.

Pomegranates were always regarded as a very exotic fruit when I was young; Mother might possibly buy just one or two a year at Christmas. The seeds were like jewels, we loved them.

This bush/tree is outside The Tower and offers just that little bit of fun to friends and family who stay there.

The name 'Pomegranate' probably comes from the Latin Pomun (Apple) and Granatum (seeded), or even from the French Pomme (Apple) and Graine (seed); or it could even describe an Apple coming from Granada. Whatever it's origin, it's a fascinating fruit.

 

 

You thought it was all over; well it isn't yet!

No-one seems to have mentioned the 'Rubbish Mountains' of Birmingham recently. Well, they're still there, getting ever bigger; Rats-n-all. It's now been 4 months since the strike began.

The continuing problem is between the hard-left Birmingham Labour Council, and the hard-left bin-men's 'Unite' Trade Union.

In the UK, it's the Trades Unions who established, and fund, the Labour Party, and they always want something in return. That 'something' is usually higher wages (as with the Train Drivers).

So the rubbish piles up, the locals don't really seem to mind, and the Rats are getting bigger and bigger.

I'm sure The Army have lorries and bulldozers that could deal with the problem in no time. Perhaps they could also dump all the sh*t on the steps of the very grand Birmingham Town Hall. That might get them off their arses; unless, of course, they're all at their second-homes in Tuscany for the Summer!

You really couldn't make it up, but the hard-left 'Unite' Union, who represent the bin-men, have now suspended hard-left deputy Prime Minister; the fragrant Angela Rayner. Things are getting heated in Rubbish-Land; no more so than at Unite's annual conference in BRIGHTON. They don't 'slum-it', do they?

 

Cro's Quail Soup © 2025

Method: To make Quail Soup, take some freshly made Chicken stock (made from the carcass of a very expensive organic, maize-fed, free range, chicken), add some vermicelli, then add a quail.

Et voila! 

 

Klaus Nomi - Lightning Strikes

I'm sure I've posted this wonderful video before, but it's worth posting again.

Klaus Nomi at his very best.

It's July 14th; Bastille Day. France's National Holiday. So, have a good one!

Lost and found

It's amazing the things that I worry about. I mean REALLY worry about!

Last September I returned to England with an antique glass Mustard pot. I've had it for years and use it often. It's a lovely thing, with a little glass top (below). I thought it would more useful in Blighty than sitting unused in France.

However, I couldn't find the little old hand-carved bone mustard spoon that goes with it (I presume it's bone and not ivory). I looked everywhere, but no sign. In fact as you might see I had even started to use a small silver spoon instead; not at all the right thing. I had begun to think the bone one was lost, and finding another would be nigh impossible.

Anyway, Lady M has just found it. It had been put away 'safely', but no-one could remember where. It should never have been separated from the antique pot.

I'm not sure if you can tell by the photo, but the missing spoon is about 3 inches long, very fine, and with just a small carved detail on the back, it's beautifully made (the photo doesn't do it justice). It is as all mustard spoons should be; a little classic.

When I return to Blighty this September it will be reunited with its rightful partner, and hopefully never leave its side again.

I cannot tell you how happy I am to have it back. Mislaying it had really preyed on my mind.

 

Three OAP's sing The Beatles.

It doesn't really matter how old you are; if it's a good song, you can sing in tune, and play the right notes, then there's nothing to stop you.

This little trio do a great job. They are called 'Folkadelic' and the song 'This Boy' was written by John Lennon.

As an ex-Bass player myself (very briefly), I would loved to have played this; that bass-line is superb!

I'm very happy

Yesterday was a GOOD day.

The weather was perfect, the pool water was at an ideal temperature, Kimbo and Susie are arriving later today (Friday), and Suave Harve arrives on Saturday. Things couldn't be better.

I also did a little DIY on our stairs that went quite well; albeit in a rather amateurish fashion. Our stairs are rather like a very chunky wooden ladder, with no railings, so I've made them a bit more OAP friendly. Hopefully my falling down them last year will not be repeated.

The Sunflowers are almost in flower. It'll be exactly one month since we've been back, and they've grown from about 4 ins tall when we came, to fully grown and having flower-heads today.

I planted some Mint roots recently and I noticed yesterday that they're growing well. I also sowed some Salad seeds, and they are all now about half an inch high. We'll be eating home-grown lettuce before long.

And possibly most importantly; my new bank card has arrived. I had no idea that the old one was expiring (who looks at such things?), so it came as a shock. Luckily the new one arrived yesterday, so Kimbo will bring it with him. Phew!!!

All in all, everything suddenly seems to be going rather well. 

 

Give us this day our daily Salad.

I mentioned some while back that I'd had a long conversation with a lady at my supermarket, all about Anchovies; neither of us could find any, and we spent a while discussing as much.

Well I did eventually find some a week later, and they now feature in most of my lunchtime salads; as they should.

In fact we have now settled down to our standard lunchtime salads; they are a cross between a Greek and a French Summer salad. They contain all the usual suspects. What more could you want?

Living in an area that is heavily influenced by N African cuisine, we do occasionally add just one bit of exoticism; Salade Mechouia (in jar above).

Mechouia is a Tunisian grilled red and green pepper salad in olive oil, which is produced as either very spicy, or mild. The one above is mild. The spicy one is almost TOO spicy. I've never seen it sold in the UK.

Note, there is a lump of Feta in the above salad, under the anchovies. Very international here!

Our antique French plates are more fun than suitable, but at least they get used!
 

Bee keeping autrefois, and other matters.

About 40 years ago I was helping a couple of ex-Parisians leave their beautiful old farmhouse next door to us, and move down to the mountainous area of the Cevennes in the South. It all proved a bit disastrous, but it was their choice, and I was happy to assist them.

We unloaded all their beautiful antique furniture and belongings into a mountainside crumbling stone barn, and very reluctantly said Au revoir, knowing that it was probably Adieu.

I'll never forget watching those two vulnerable ladies standing and waving at us as we left. It's hard to imagine what happened after we'd gone. As much as we'd tried to persuade them to find a hotel, their Zen leanings over-ruled all. I pictured them sitting cross-legged, chanting 'oooom', and wearing saffron robes, as they looked out over the stunning mountainous landscape. We really felt as if we had 'abandoned' them; but they were reasonably wealthy, and they did own a car.  

On the way down, not long before we'd reached their new 'home', I kept noticing short bits of hollowed-out tree trunks on stone walls, these were invariably covered with a large slab of stone. I was informed that they were an ancient form of Bee Hive. They looked so beautiful, and natural, in those bleak mountainous surroundings that I was in awe of the ingenuity.

Just recently an advert appeared in my MSN news-feed page advertising brand new versions of these hives.

Carved in a slightly more chic decorative 21st C style than their older cousins, and having a more modern interior, they are bound to be popular again. I can see people taking-up Bee Keeping just to have a few of these in their orchard. They cost about 550 Euros each.

A propos my two ex-neighbours, I later learned that they had 'divorced'. Jeannine had headed further south to the Riviera, and Odette had died in a Parisian Hospital.

Before heading off on their Zen adventure, these two lovely ladies had given me all sorts of 'treasures' as part of their 'downsizing'. Amongst which were a lovely Biot Olive pot, a Trunk (below, complete with Odette's father's original address in Paris), and all sorts of exotic wooden spoons from their world travels; all of which I still have.

I have no idea what prompted their bizarre move to a ruined mountainside stone barn, but it really wasn't advisable. I missed them after they'd gone, and I quite expect they regretted their move as well.