The fracture clinic report is that my fracture is not displaced and I have to go back next week and hopefully if it's okay they'll try and refer me to physiotherapy.

LiR,
Beware of physioterrorists!

I've been in the hands of such people for years, and when/if something begins to look good, someone invariably will say, "Fine, now you'e done this, you've better do ten more!"

There's a streak - at least - of sadism in them.

Apparently the size of wine glasses has been steadily increasing since at least 1700 - almost exponentially over the last couple of decades - and as a consequence we're all drinking much, much more:

British Medical Journal - Wine glass size in England from 1700 to 2017: a measure of our time



I'm just thankful I haven't got any descendents of the artist Pieter Claesz staying over Christmas ... otherwise we'd likely run out of drink after just the first round if the size of his family's wine glasses from 380 years ago are anything to go by:


'Still life with herring, wine and bread' by Pieter Claesz, 1647.

  .... talking of which, as it's nearly Christmas, anyone fancy a wee glass of quelque chose?

Nielsen wrote:

LiR,
Beware of physioterrorists!

I've been in the hands of such people for years, and when/if something begins to look good, someone invariably will say, "Fine, now you'e done this, you've better do ten more!"

There's a streak - at least - of sadism in them.

Nielsen,

completely right. My sister has a new hip. And on the sessions for physiotherapy she had to do such strong exercises that her other hip began to go. After a while she wanted not to go to the sessions anymore, but for fear of losing her medical subvention she was going nevertheless. At the end she asked her doctor, if she couldn't be free of this "female physioterrorist" and thanks to the doctor she could end it all.
But in my case on the contrary after the donor kidney at Ghent all went smootly with the physiotherapists overthere...I think LiR will have such ones as mine...

Kind regards from Paul.

PaulRyckier wrote:

Gilgamesh,

I prepared already in mind some elaborated answer to your SF story.
Elaborated I would say as in our (in my eyes!) interesting discussion between the body-brain-mind, spirit, soul of Temperance and all that stuff of mine...
https://reshistorica.forumotion.com/t1143-plato-augustine-and-sticking-to-your-diet

OOPS: nearing midnight near Bruges, not that far from the English Channel on the European peninsula, I have to stop the argumentation...I will instead "bombard" you tomorrow with the "deepest stirrings of my soul" (de diepste roerselen van mijn ziel)...

Hmm, Gilgamesh,

I am not sure anymore, if I can bring this heavy stuff in the environment of this nice café...?
Perhaps, better to wait till Temperance returns because she is my partner in this brainy "circumnavigations"...

Kind regards from Paul.

Nielsen wrote:

This was my first thought ... yet I'm fond of the tune

Niels, yes the "cult" film: Casablanca.


Strong rememberance of it:






But as I saw more the history of the story in it and not os much the love story, I remembered more the Marseillaise scene















Kind regards from Paul.

Concerning AIS this young person explains it well.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5vDVUPjBJiM

Nielsen and PR, I fell on ice 29 - nearly 30 years ago and cracked my left radius head and had physio for that. I also had physiotherapy about 16 yrs ago when I cracked the little bone that sticks up on the shoulder [left that time]. I know that I kept thinking I'd made improvements and my [rugby playing] physiotherapist said no.  The week I went and said I didn't think I'd improved low and behold he said I had in fact done so.  I fell outside Kensington Underground in the 2001 incident in rain rather than snow.  I guess the physio is a necessary evil.

Yes, LiR, I've been having treatments in a physio clinic regularly since the mid-90'es due to an illness developing. 

Some of these people accept what I tell - from what my association tell and researches into - and that works well, others will not understand that what we expect from them will not make us whole and sound, but just help keeping the disease at bay.
The last kind generally are those that turn nasty when we don't react as they think we ought to according to their 'beliefs', and a few times I've requsted for me to be allocated someone else as their attitude works against my temper, and thus my attitude.

Time for a sing-song.

A Very Scary Solstice, with all your favourite songs, I saw Mommy kissing Yag-Sothoth, Do you Fear what I Fear, Away in a Madhouse and lots more:

I listened to a radio play of a Lovecraft story once and found it unsettling so I might give Trike's video a miss.  I did manage to find the Rocking Carol in Czech online the other day, not that I speak Czech.

As I say I've mostly been watching old TV programmes online but I came across a channel "Conspiracy Nut Theories" [debunking things] though they haven't uploaded for a couple of years.  Sorry to tell Paul but there's apparently no such country as Belgium, Abba are alien 'trannies' (where did this 'tranny' obsession start?) and Michelle Obama is a chap.  As I say the channel was a debunking one but where oh where do these ideas [ripe for debunking] start?  Is Nielsen from Denmark, well apparently some people think Greenland does not exist.  And Emily Bronte was transgender.  Now I know they breed 'em tough in Yorkshire but really - in the 1800s - without anaesthesia.

Think I'll go back to carols - at least there one can enjoy a pleasant tune.

Hope that fracture clears up, LiR. No surprise at this time of year. Our Council didn't bother gritting the pavements and the A&E department at the Hospital has recorded a massive jump in broken bones caused by falls on ice.

Anyway, here is Rocking Carol;

Must say that I'm somewhat surprised that Greenland doesn't exist, as far as I've been told and seen on the telly that's where the Julemand - aka Santa Claus - lives and from where he operates.

Besides, where do all those Greenlanders I went to school with come from then?

Perhaps these "Conspiracy Nut Crackers" discovered that they themselves didn't exist and that's the reason they went out of business.

That's about time to finish up. So I'll wish everyone a Merry Christmas and see you all next week.

And from me too in case I forget later with too much of little real importance still to do. And for the site' bah humbug' set I wish you whatever is appropriate to lighten your gloom. Extra port was delivered here this year along with the wine and Sauternes......the latter in memory of my father who thought Christmas incomplete without it - so keeping in the spirit of things here no problem.

Nielsen, I explained myself badly.  The Conspiracy Nuts channel was actually mentioning conspiracy theories and saying that they were stupid.  There is a character called Jungle Surfer who said that Greenland wasn't real but it appears he doesn't know how to make international phone calls.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OP7vCS9tTNE

[list="margin-right: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border: 0px;"]
[*]
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17 Feb 2017 - Uploaded by junglesurfertv

Mind you, he also avers that the earth is flat and Paul McCartney is a female.  He and some of  the folks who make similar videos do have their followers though.  I think about the saying that you can fool some of the people all of the time.  I can't find the conspiracy theory nut channel at present. 

Well being serious will join in the wishing happy xmas to all.  I am generally resting.

Happy vacation and recreational days to all from me as well.

We'll meet again when we get back.

And from me too, though I don't have much to offer this site now: not erudite enough or knowledgable enough about European history.  But have a lovely Christmas, everyone. And let's hope for a great 2018, though that might be expecting a bit too much.

Used to get humbugs in the stocking hung overnight on the mantelpiece (knee-high school-approved grey industrial-strength wool jobs of course, none of them fancy red felt santa-jobs those days). Think my mother was trying to tell us something ...

Have a good Christmas all - I'm doing my usual culinary stint with the Lutheran Holy Joes (Moralistic Martins?) for the next few days, so I'll be off the airwaves for a bit while I spread the Good Word (tripe) to the masses. I'm under a roof this time, and the Humanists along with some hardy Catholics are coming along for the ride this year too (we've all been consolidated by the city council), so I'm expecting some great food fights and the chance to learn even more Norwegian swear words. Keep well and safe at least until 2018 after which you take your chances like the rest of us - and may the spirit of the Unconquered Sun prove in the end to have always been whiskey with an "E".

Festum Sol Invicti hilare et faustum annum novum!

Merry Christmas one and all!

Just for today I've managed to coerce those two arch-Grinches, Oliver and Elizabeth Cromwell, to serve behind the bar doling out glasses of sack-posset to anyone that comes by.

Here's Elizabeth Cromwell's own recipe from 1660:

Set a Gallon of Milk on the Fire, with whole Cinamon and large Mace, when it boyls stir in a half, or whole pound of Naples-bisket grated very small, keeping it stirring till it boyls, then beat eight Eggs together, casting of the whites away; beat them well with a Ladle-ful of Milk, then take the Milk off the fire, and stir in the Eggs; then put it on again, but keep it stirring for fear of curdling; then make ready a pint of Sack, warming it upon the coals, with a little Rose-water, season your Milk with sugar, and pour it into the Sack in a large bason, and stir it a pace, then throw on a good deal of beaten Cinamon, and so serve it up.

... in authentic period porcelain posset-pots of course:



Although Oliver Cromwell did ban all Christmas festivities, he never actually banned mince pies, and so there are also plenty of those too ... plus well-aged plum puddings as ammunition for the trébuchet!



Joyeux Noël tout le monde.

Hello Mm,

Just a little comment as I didn't really know the word 'sack', a little googling remedied that - I hope.

Re sack, I suppose you've already heard the joke of then President Clinton being misheard, when saying to the intern, Ms Lewinsky, "Sack my cook"?


I'd better get me coat.

Seeing as it's Christmas and knowing what a traditionalist you are Nielsen (although maybe it's usually for New Year's Eve, I forget) ...



And by the way LiR - or indeed anyone else - instead of watching all those crap conspiracy youtubes, how about these seasonal ones that I've only just stumbled upon? Call me a sentimental old badger for all you like but I thought these were lovely Christmas entertainment. I'd never seen them before (in the mid 1980s I was at college or in my first proper job, so I missed the original 'Children's Hour' screenings on TV), and despite the rather primative special effects - though cutting-edge for the time - I'm thoroughly enjoying them and aim to finish 'The Children of Green Knowe' tonight.

'The Box of Delights' (1984):



and, 'The Children of Green Knowe' (1986):



But just be aware that when I watched the last part of 'The Box of Delights', youtube then automatically followed on with this:

The Beast -  Westcountry tales:



... OK, it was late at night, pitch black outside, with no moon, and I live alone in an isolated house surrounded by deep forest with no living human within 2kms. But though I'm usually unafraid of the dark, I just couldn't watch it beyond the first ten minutes. I was rather spooked ... and had to finish it in the bright sunlight of the following morning.

Arh well, yes, that old chestnut again, apparently it's dug up every New Year's Eve in many a North European tv station.
Some people I know will know the dialogue by heart.

There was a time when a new edition was sent, but so much rumble was made, that the original one keeps get dusted off and re-run.

Well since we're talking classic Christmas films, then if you understand French there's always this classically-cynical-classically-French comedy: 'Le Pere Noel est une ordure' (Father Christmas is a shit). It's from 1982 and features a host of well-known, if you're French, comedy actors, and some of the best lines still get regularly quoted much in the same way that Monty Python does. It's not much known outside of France but it is actually very funny.



As with so much of great French comedy it was originally a stage play, with many of the same actors:



Unfortunately the quality of those youtube's isn't great ... but I've got it on DVD, and I think I might just go and add it to tonight's pile of viewing material.

Je me regrette, Mm, and that's just about the extent of my French.
Anyting else would be from the Pink Panther, and old movies with Louis de Funés, as well as the - by me - almost forgotten ghost of Louvre, the Belphegore.

But now I need to leave you for a bit while I get my pigs into their blankets, my devils onto their horses, and my dinner into the oven ... plus lift some carrots, trim some sprouts, peel some potatoes, and generally start to get everything organised for this evening.

Do enjoy it all.

Nadolig Hapus bawb

Spent yesterday behind The Beard on the railway - the kids loved it when we spotted a family group of red deer in the country park!

Gilgamesh,

thinking about Islanddawn's Greek-Orthodox Church and the difference with the Russian-Orthodox Church and thinkiing about my three years Russian language evening school...
Веселого Рождества и счастливого нового года to all...

Kind regards from Paul and I wish you a "good year's end" ('n goed jaareinde).

Actually, with the bad weather [rain and cloud] yesterday I had some long lasting interruptions in broadband yesterday so didn't watch anything much.  I did a bit of mending [hem of a skirt] and other small item sewing though recently while I have had internet access I've watched a couple of adaptations of two of PD James' Dalgleish novels with Martin Shaw and saw one episode of 'Endeavour' [young Morse] so I haven't been a daftie all the time.  Seeing how I feel today I might see if I can do some [very] light housework, dusting or the like, one-handed.

Nielsen wrote:

Je me regrette, Mm, and that's just about the extent of my French.
Anyting else would be from the Pink Panther, and old movies with Louis de Funés, as well as the - by me - almost forgotten ghost of Louvre, the Belphegore.

May I suggest this? https://www.amazon.co.uk/Lets-Parler-Franglais-Miles-Kington/dp/1861057822#reader_1861057822

PaulRyckier wrote:

Gilgamesh,

thinking about Islanddawn's Greek-Orthodox Church and the difference with the Russian-Orthodox Church and thinkiing about my three years Russian language evening school...
Веселого Рождества и счастливого нового года to all...

Kind regards from Paul and I wish you a "good year's end" ('n goed jaareinde).

Not sure if you will be able to see this, but a nice example of an Orthodox church in Birmingham
http://www.birminghammail.co.uk/news/nostalgia/little-known-quirky-church-hidden-14066089

Dymunaf chi chi a'n holl ffrindiau eraill yma flwyddyn newydd hapus

LadyinRetirement wrote:

Actually, with the bad weather [rain and cloud] yesterday I had some long lasting interruptions in broadband yesterday so didn't watch anything much.  I did a bit of mending [hem of a skirt] and other small item sewing though recently while I have had internet access I've watched a couple of adaptations of two of PD James' Dalgleish novels with Martin Shaw and saw one episode of 'Endeavour' [young Morse] so I haven't been a daftie all the time.  Seeing how I feel today I might see if I can do some [very] light housework, dusting or the like, one-handed.

Lady,

I know what you are talking about...after my kidney operation not that much worth during the first fortnight...

I wish you a good recovery...but keep it quiet, apart from what you have to do according to your kinesist...fractures need their time to heal...

Kind regards from Paul.

Gilgamesh of Uruk wrote:

Not sure if you will be able to see this, but a nice example of an Orthodox church in Birmingham
http://www.birminghammail.co.uk/news/nostalgia/little-known-quirky-church-hidden-14066089

Dymunaf chi chi a'n holl ffrindiau eraill yma flwyddyn newydd hapus

Father of Ur-Nungal (BTW are you now the father of a girl or of a son...?),

I am able to see the interior of the church....I was once with my father in something similar during an Orthodox mass in Moscow as guests of the Soviet Union...

Dymunaf chi chi a'n holl ffrindiau eraill yma flwyddyn newydd hapus
http://www.etranslator.ro/translate-welsh-to-english.php
OOPS and now is the translation gone in the link...put it yourself in it...and it says: I wish you and all other friends yuo this happy new year.

Gil, I mentioned it already to nordmann: (it was in a scientific magazine) two persons with a headphone and a speaker and each person has a computer on him to translate it simultaneously for instance from Welsh in Dutch and vice versa...not sure what the computer would do with my West and East Flemish dialect, not to speak what about my Oostends and my rural dialect from around Bruges...no, I said to nordmann, what have I to do now with all my languages that I know... ....trying to make some friendly bridges with the others if I arrive in their country?...as they will hear that I am from flesh and blood, thanks to my inimitable language, which can not (I hope ) be reproduced by any computer...

Kind regards from your friend Paul.

Well, Paul, we are going to have a sort of garden party for the railway I volunteer at (Welshpool and Llanfair Caereinion) and have been offered the use of the grounds of a local "big house" - It's an ex-school so I won't describe it as a manor, which is owned by William Hague. His inability to sing the Welsh national anthem when he was Welsh secretary was an embarrassment, so Ffion Jenkins, a Welsh-speaking civil servant, was tasked with teaching him Welsh. She is now Lady Hague of Richmond (the Yorkshire Richmond, that is). They bought the house (£2.5 million) so he "would have somewhere to write his books".  Given that Roald Dahl needed only a Writing Hut, I expect Great Literature to Sally Forth from Cyfronydd Hall in Endless Streams. Not.

BTW -Unlike Lewis Hamilton, I am not concerned that male youngsters of my family frequently appear in skirts.

Where am I and what day is it? Just spent the last thirty hours travelling back from South Africa - don't like trying to sleep in a chair in an aluminium tube a mile above the earth. How I have driven back from Heathrow I do not know.

Anyone know anything about the Boer War - I don't and I'd like to learn more. Think some people are still fighting it out there. Met one very scary white farmer at a party who lectured me for about two hours on the Sins of the English. Oh dear.

Hope you all survived the Joyous Festival and that nordmann didn't deck the Bishop of Oslo again this year.

Ah you've been out in the colonies Temp. Yes it is a bloody long way and the trip is agonising, it takes 3 days of travel for me to get from my home here down to Australia, shudder.  Although it is somewhat ironic that we are whinging about merely a few hours of inconvenience to get to the other end of the earth when the same trip took those before us over 6 weeks. 

And yes again, many in the Commonwealth are still fighting the battles of the past, understandable in a way as they are the ones living with the consequences of those policies still so it isn't so easy to tell them to move on and get over it. Although you yourself are hardly to blame for any of it it must be said, nor can you change it.

Islanddawn wrote:

Although it is somewhat ironic that we are whinging about merely a few hours of inconvenience to get to the other end of the earth when the same trip took those before us over 6 weeks. 

Ah but they travelled by liner or at any rate a steam-ship, with space to move around, a bar and restaurant, as well as several stops en-route for the ship to re-coal and the passengers to spend a few hours a-shore in exotic locations.

Even if you flew, until the war the planes usually landed every evening and passengers stayed over-night in top hotels, like the Raffles in Singapore. Flying then still took about a week to get from London to Australia, but as you say ID, that's only about three times as long as the whole business takes today ... and I know which method I'd prefer.

Sounds like an interesting holiday, Temp.

Unlike some dummy who drank to much on Christmas Eve and spent Christmas Day with a splitting headache and nursing a hangover. At my age, I should know better.

Photo of the Spion Kop Battlefield, overlooking the Tugela River. Some of the  football grounds in Britain took to naming their stands after this hill. Most notably,in the Liverpool ground at Anfield:

There's an unlikely source  - the notes on the poems and stories of Rudyard Kipling on the period at http://www.kiplingsociety.co.uk/

Meles meles wrote:

Islanddawn wrote:

Although it is somewhat ironic that we are whinging about merely a few hours of inconvenience to get to the other end of the earth when the same trip took those before us over 6 weeks. 

Ah but they travelled by liner or at any rate a steam-ship, with space to move around, a bar and restaurant, as well as several stops en-route for the ship to re-coal and the passengers to spend a few hours a-shore in exotic locations.

Even if you flew, until the war the planes usually landed every evening and passengers stayed over-night in top hotels, like the Raffles in Singapore. Flying then still took about a week to get from London to Australia, but as you say ID, that's only about three times as long as the whole business takes today ... and I know which method I'd prefer.

Those seats look a darn sight more comfortable than they are now, nice head rests and much more leg room too. Although I'd imagine that would be first class? Although only the wealthy could afford to fly so I suppose it is a moot point.

All in all if we still had the option I'd rather go by liner , a far more civilised way to get there even if it does take longer. At least one wouldn't have one's bum dragging on the ground for a few days after one arrives.

That child in the first photo has a gollywog, good grief I haven't seen one of those since I was a child. There were mammy dolls too, every self respecting white girl had one or the other. Those were the days of endemic racism that no-one thought twice about....

Islanddawn wrote:

Those seats look a darn sight more comfortable than they are now, nice head rests and much more leg room too. Although I'd imagine that would be first class? Although only the wealthy could afford to fly so I suppose it is a moot point.

The Empire Flying Boats were one class only - First Class - and I think I've read somewhere that a one-way ticket to Australia in the 1930s cost the equivalent of about £10,000. So as you say they were really only for the wealthy ... and I suppose also for prominent civil servants and their like, whose tickets were paid for by His Majesty's Foreign Office, the India Office, Indian State Railways etc.

And yes, particularly seeing that it was advertising flights to South Africa, the girl playing with the golliwog made me smile too.

Gilgamesh,

"BTW -Unlike Lewis Hamilton, I am not concerned that male youngsters of my family frequently appear in skirts."

Ah, now I understand it about Ur-Nungal...it was about the skirt...

Kind regards from Paul.

Meles meles wrote:

Islanddawn wrote:

Those seats look a darn sight more comfortable than they are now, nice head rests and much more leg room too. Although I'd imagine that would be first class? Although only the wealthy could afford to fly so I suppose it is a moot point.

The Empire Flying Boats were one class only - First Class - and I think I've read somewhere that a one-way ticket to Australia in the 1930s cost the equivalent of about £10,000. So as you say they were really only for the wealthy ... and I suppose also for prominent civil servants and their like, whose tickets were paid for by His Majesty's Foreign Office, the India Office, Indian State Railways etc.

And yes, particularly seeing that it was advertising flights to South Africa, the girl playing with the golliwog made me smile too.

I really liked the pictures.

The Virgin Atlantic Imperial Flying Boat I was on was excellent, but perhaps I found it so because, for the first time in my life, I went Premium Economy. I flew home on Christmas Day itself, very late, so the expensive option was actually a bit cheaper. It was a very long flight and I wanted to be comfortable. But I felt very sheepish and privileged, especially when, after chatting amicably to some young people as we all waited to board, I had to say good-bye, having been called for "priority boarding" - along with the really posh lot in "Upper". The said amicable young people (who had kindly fed me bits of cheese while we were waiting!!!) ignored me when, ensconced in my big, comfy, purple, leather seat, sipping a glass of champagne (I think it was just sparkling Cava actually), they all trooped past us premium passengers as they headed - with the rest of the vulgar herd - down the aisle into the cramped misery of the undesirable end of the aluminium tube. I think they were disappointed with me (in fact, they probably had forgotten all about me). More likely that I was disappointed with myself and felt guilty and snobby. But, alas, I was very comfortable all night, even though I couldn't sleep, and I don't think I'll ever fly Economy again. Privilege is tempting - and addictive. When I went for a little nocturnal wander, I took a sly peek into the "Upper" (what Virgin call first-class) section and saw the ultra-privileged all curled up in their expensive little pod things for the duration - although one man was still sitting at the bar staring miserably into his £7000 drink - at 3.00am. in the morning. Those little pod-beds were charged about five grand more (return) than a simple big leather chair, so I think he was determined to get his money's worth in free booze. We all got a turkey dinner with one sprout. Perhaps "Uppers" got a roast potato as well. The other lot probably got a packet of turkey=flavoured nuts.

The golliwog actually doesn't make me smile - not after my experiences in the Eastern Cape. Tourists usually go to the more expensive and exclusive Cape Town area, so I saw - and heard - things which, frankly, horrified me. It is not a happy country. I may start a Boer War thread. Funnily enough, the black people I spoke to were very warm and friendly about us awful Brits - but some other (white) people were not. But perhaps I won't start a thread; maybe tomorrow I'll just add something on Priscilla's old colonial topic.

"Every year in England it snows - and every year they are amazed." George Bernard Shaw (I think). How true.

PS Thank you for the link, Gilgamesh. I may post the Kipling South Africa poem tomorrow.

EDIT: This sounds a miserable post - not meant to be, as I did find the R.S.A. an extremely interesting place and I had a great holiday. The beaches were breathtakingly beautiful. Shame about the sharks. And I didn't like the puff adder I saw very much either.

Temperance wrote:

We all got a turkey dinner with one sprout. Perhaps "uppers" got a roast potato as well. The others probably got a packet of peanuts.

One sprout! But the sprouts are the best bit of Christmas dinner, that and the roast tatties, stuffing and the pigs-in-blankets.

I once flew Virgin Atlantic First Class to New York (it was company policy: in the 1990s they flew Gatwick to East Newark which was more convenient for head office in Menlo Park south of New York, and also if you went 1st class you got a free chaufeur-driven limo from/to home and to/from your hotel). Anyway I had grilled lobster with asparagus - and real champagne! And as we were in the wide nose of the 747, we still got served even when all food and drinks service to the lower clases darn the back, had to be abandoned due to turbulence.

I'm sure I've told this ancedote before, but ... I also used to fly BA First Class a lot - a perk of my partner being a BA Cabin Services Director/Purser. I once accompanied him on a flight to Jersey - he was working the last flight out on Christmas Eve, staying over two nights in a hotel on Jersey, and then working back on the first flight on the 26th. Then the route was usually flown by ATR 42s, a smallish, two-engined, turb-prop plane. At Gatwick a Middle Eastern gentleman boarded with his veiled wife in tow, demurely following in his footsteps. He showed their boarding cards and settled himself into seat 1A, and dismissed his wife to the back of the aircraft. But on those planes because of the internal layout and position of the noisy engines, First Class was actually at the back and cattle class at the front. Once in the air he got his nuts and sandwich, while she, sat across the aisle from me in First, was served a full meal with drinks. He was livid, but he'd chosen his seat, the plane was full and my partner (as purser) refused to let him swap places, while making sure the wife was treated especially well ... although it was only to Jersey so he didn't have to stew for too long, unfortunately.

Temperance wrote:

"Every year in England it snows - and every year they are amazed." George Bernard Shaw (I think). How true.

And in southern France too. Yesterday was bright and sunny and I did a bit of gardening before going for a wee nap in the afternoon. I woke up only an hour or so later, at about 5pm, to find 2 inches of snow outside and snow still falling hard ... which rather caught me by surprise. But Doggy-Dog enjoyed walkies this morning:



And to be fair I think it was only me that was caught by surprise ... the village snow plow had been out, even along our little lane, very early this morning if not last night too.

It's the same in New Zealand.  We have snow every year and each time we are surprised and delighted by it, and if driving a bit apprrehensive.  We don't use salt on our roads here - my understanding is that salt interferes with agricultural land. 

A few years ago people mocked Aucklanders who were amazed at snow on the ground even though it was only a little bit.  But Auckland hardly ever gets snow - I think it was the first time for about 20 years, so why wouldn't they be excited?  Even though we get it every year, not usually very much, and even though we are 68 years old, we still find snow on the ground exciting and get up specially to look out the window if we think it might be snowing.  Snow is so pretty - why wouldn't you want to look at it and be awed by it?  It's only there for a few days a year.

Lo! these many years ago, I attended an establishment which, partly to defray the cost of training those who hailed from the UK, took in a considerable number of trainees from other nations (in my time we had Malaysians, Iranians, Ghanaians, Libyans and a lone Trinidad and Tobago Coastguard). Now, Devon does have a somewhat lesser tendency than many other parts of the UK to see snow, but in November, that's exactly what we got. We were woken by a crowd of Malaysians shrieking at the sight. They then proceeded to have an epic snowball fight (Indian v Chinese v Malay) in their night attire. Eventually, the cold put a stop to it (they hadn't realised how cold you get messing about in the snow). We spent most of our "activity periods" for the next couple of days shovelling the blasted stuff from where the college authorities didn't want it - except some of the more senior trainees, who donned their pusser's planks and sped around the place urging us on to greater efforts - they were going to have a guest night, with persons of the female persuasion present, but only if the car parks were cleared in time.

Almost time to pack up for another 4 day weekend.

So I'll wish everyone a Happy and Prosperous New Year

Only one sprout Temp? But were they Liberty Sprouts...

I love it - that has really cheered me up, ID!

Happyish New Year to everyone. I note that on this day in history - 2011 - I joined Res His - been wittering away here for six years - can't believe it.

That had me looking too, Temp, you have one days seniority over me in here. Fortunately many of my sillier utterings have been culled, making this a better place.

A happy New Years wish from me to all as well.

Happy New Year all and each.

I was wondering about historical conspiracy theories as opposed to those currently in YouTube.  Where did the theory that either Margaret Beaufort or Henry Tudor made the princes in the tower disappear come from [though MB was under house arrest at the time and HT in France]?  Was it current when the princes vanished?

I can think of the allegation that James II's son by Mary of Modena was smuggled into the birthing room in a warming pan.  Would they have called conspiracy theories rumours back then?  I know Master Wobbleweapon had a character called Rumour in on of the Henry plays [IV part 2?]