I know Westward Ho! very well, MM. - not one of my favourite spots in North Devon though, I'm afraid. I won't be scratting about for old barrels of port there, although the story of the wreck is interesting. I hate port and sherry: I drank half a bottle of sherry when I was about seventeen and made myself very poorly indeed. The thought of any fortified wine still makes me shudder. I never touch the stuff, not even a discreet glass of Harvey's Luncheon Sherry (do they still make that, I wonder - it does sound very posh and Bertie Woosterish).

Not totally sure of anyone who does not enjoy a serious port, it will be noted that Temps and I are posting more often. I am reminded of a sticker one of our family put in the loo of our holiday canal boat  when constipation had been mentioned. "Are we having fun yet?"

On another line, am I the only one to have heard of the 'famous' Irish explorer Marc O'Polo?

If that one's too schoolboyish, I'll join Priscilla in a couple of good ports.

Please do, Pers. This is about the only site place I feel reasonably safe. Start a thread and the  definitive kybosh dissertation comes up - and argue with any of that at your peril - and then there's also trying hard not to attempt humour to avoid offence. 
So this is the only place is get tucked about a reasonable port and perhaps to discuss our 'nice' books - or nice anything. How wise of Paul to start a new thread that clearly states what it is supposed to be about for those having difficulty with their semantics; a painful condition.
I could open one on the Benefit of benefiting from Benefits, perhaps - would that be beneficial?

Priscilla wrote:

Please do, Pers. This is about the only site place I feel reasonably safe. Start a thread and the  definitive kybosh dissertation comes up - and argue with any of that at your peril - and then there's also trying hard not to attempt humour to avoid offence. 
So this is the only place is get tucked about a reasonable port and perhaps to discuss our 'nice' books - or nice anything. How wise of Paul to start a new thread that clearly states what it is supposed to be about for those having difficulty with their semantics; a painful condition.
I could open one on the Benefit of benefiting from Benefits, perhaps - would that be beneficial?

Priscilla,

I still stand my case on the fora overhere. I agree I have my own interests as the social facet of the world and I am not that good in religions and philosophy. And with my bit of chemical studies I try to do my best on this intellectual forum to have at least some voice ...
As an intellectual person I think you are too modest. You can stand your case a lot better in my humble opinion. But again in my humble opinion you are so easely driven in offence retaliation...
After all those years I think that you know in depth Nordmann's manner of working...you have just to stand your case...of course in a dialogue with Nordmann you have always to respect the logic...I suppose that is one of the items he is upset with if you don't follow the logical reasoning...but that is only one of my observations and I can be wrong.
I have the impression that Temperance, another intellectual person of this board, has already understood it, but that too is a supposition.
Priscilla, I can only say that I miss your messages and I can not see with your intellectual status on these boards, why you have to be afraid to start  a new thread on these boards.

As always, your friend, Paul.

A new use for the bar - a counselling stool! Useful. So here I sit wondering where the humour eradicator glue tube is kept.- and if I might be allergic to it. Bound to be - it'll bring on choking fits and I'll fall off me stool and break something. I have also lost the velvet on  my rapport with nordmann stick. If found someone please explain how to re-fix.

Whilst I await further advice, I'l restock with Vit B stuff for Temps. No Bovril - promise.... how about little marmite toasty squares? Have you had double vision from the B12 injections yet? Perhaps that was just a sub continental additive I once 'enjoyed' along with a sore bum that made sitting a further suffering. Still, think of the (benefits) (sorry, forbidden word) positive side. You'll soon be all gung ho....... perhaps I should cut down on me own marmite intake. But I bet port is stuffed with vitamin B's 1 through 12, Temps and that's why you have a short fall. Per and I and do quite well on it. Basking in bright sun here in these heady late summer days here in the South east........gosh it will be hard being a penitent today. Tomorrow perhaps......

Priscilla wrote:

A new use for the bar - a counselling stool! Useful. ....

If it' any port in a storm, P., then Niepoort is one for me.

- Lately I've gone off the Absolut, but am - minions actually do, I oversee - still keeping the arms cellars bright, clean and slightly oiled, just in case.

Just before I make a fool of myself -again - and I order in some Niepoort in, is it to drink or is it the name of a container ship port or some such? I had no idea we had cellars here let alone gun slinging minions.  This bar is full of surprises - few drinkers but still an engaging place. I have not been councelled today so made off for a bit and posted, but now here I am again wearing the same tatty  old flak jacket - and little gold sandals.

You could do worse than requesting Niepoort, P, in my humble opinion that company run a nice line of port wines.

As to the cellars, they go back to the Ancient and less than venerable days of the BBC History Boards - the Pub threads - of which this may be said to be a descendant.
In these cellars are, among other things trebuchets, which at all times must be kept oiled in order to function.

Ah - Son of Cellar. Silly me. I like cellars, having been raised in a house with a large one that also had a stream running through a brick course after storms. On either side of the steep stone steps to it were flat slopes for lowering large barrels on ropes.......it had been an Inn at one time. So that is how the treb is brought out of this one, I guess. Just thinking ahead. In my odd way of doing things I carefully prepare and lay a dining table before cooking a spread. If the food is lousy a stunning layout tempers it somewhat. Lightly oiled customers in the bar would be a welcome novelty.

Nielsen wrote:

Priscilla wrote:

A new use for the bar - a counselling stool! Useful. ....

If it' any port in a storm, P., then Niepoort is one for me.

- Lately I've gone off the Absolut, but am - minions actually do, I oversee - still keeping the arms cellars bright, clean and slightly oiled, just in case.

 Nielsen,

just a quick entry as I come from the justice of peace tribunal to settle a conflict of no payement with one of our hirers...and had to consult the internet...
Was curious about the name Niepoort, which is after all our Belgian Nieuwpoort (Nieuport)...
And on the internet one find it all
http://www.young-charly.com/winepages/niepoort.aspx
http://www.thespanishacquisition.com/port-wines/niepoort.aspx/
http://www.cbcork.com/articles/01-first-article.html
And there it is:
Since 1835, the Dutch family van der Niepoort has been dedicated to Port Wine. Initially, they were businessmen and exporters; they bought grapes and wine from the Douro farmers, and sold them under their own brand name. Five generations later, a young man at just 20 years of age joined this family business and completely revolutionized a structure that had been, until then, traditional and archaic.
Dirk van der Niepoort, born in the city of Porto in 1964, knew how to take advantage of the opportunities that presented themselves. He obtained a degree in Economics in Switzerland and returned to Porto in 1987, joining his father's, Rolf van der Niepoort, business. The major challenge for Dirk van der Nieport was to harmonise tradition with modern ideas.
The first step in this process was the purchase of two vineyards at Cima Corgo, a region that traditionally produced the best Port Wines. With the acquisition of Quinta de Nápoles and Quinta do Carril the operation of Niepoort changed fundamentally. At this stage, Niepoort did not only produce Port Wines, but also table wines.

"The Dutch family..."
From the Burgundian times the Low Countries were brought together and till the Dutch Revolt they remained together and as such it it is quite reasonable that a Dutch family has roots in Nieuport...and even more reasonable that they ended in the Portuguese Douro region
...
Sadly I can have only a taste, a bit as the bottom of a glass of that tasty porto, while there are grapes in it and they contain potasssium cations and that is forbidden to me...one of the levels in my blood to be very careful with...

Cheers to all  the "blokes" and "lasses"...

Kind regards

PaulRyckier wrote:

Quote :

 Nielsen,

...


"The Dutch family..."
From the Burgundian times the Low Countries were brought together and till the Dutch Revolt they remained together and as such it it is quite reasonable that a Dutch family has roots in Nieuport...and even more reasonable that they ended in the Portuguese Douro region
...

Thank you for those threads to the business end of the tasty port, Paul, that will be a nice read in the afternoon.



Regarding your quote above, for some time - since the BBC Boards and Lady of Sweetlake - I've been interested in how the 'zeven vereinigte Provincïes' evolved from "
55 jaar voor Christus : Batavieren en de Franken  komen naar ons land .

And from there it started. ...", and how the various provinces did so differently, some remaining rather rural and feudal societies when other grew with commercial centres like Amsterdam and Rotterdam, and how William the Silent turned into almost a republican.

Phew, I'll have to read closer into that.



Kind regards to you, too, Paul, and good luck with your health.

I can't find anywhere else to put this and the last sentence was about Paul's health, so I will add this about mine.  This was published recently in the Clutha Leader, the local community paper that I write for (now rarely):




I was sitting at the computer about to turn it off for the night on September 10^th last year when suddenly I felt my arm weaken.  I called out to Malcolm, my husband, that something was wrong with me. I then said, “I think I’ve had a stroke”.  That was the last words I said for the next few days.  I could still think, so it was a bit frustrating for everyone. 
 
Up till the moment it happened I had felt as normal – no symptoms at all, not even a slight headache. I was being treated for diabetes, high blood pressure and highish cholesterol.  But despite all these things wrong with me, I hardly ever got sick. It was a brain bleed, a less common form of stroke.  Over 80% of them are clots.
 
I don’t remember much about the next couple of hours, though I was vaguely conscious at least some of the time.  The rescue helicopter came quickly and my daughter-in-law came with me. I was in no pain, and indeed haven’t really suffered much pain at all; twinges in my shoulder and sometimes in my leg have been the extent of it.
 
The staff at Wakari were marvellous.  The nurses, male and female, came at the press of a button.  The physiotherapists there and at Clutha Health First have pushed me as hard as they can to get me walking again.  I am getting there slowly.
 
Wakari also had accommodation onsite for my husband, which was a real bonus. The food was my one complaint – I was put on a sugar and salt free (and taste free) diet for a start.  Eventually the kitchen staff sent through a complaint to the main hospital kitchen and they improved a bit.
 
My husband has been invaluable  –  without him I would have had to be in institutional care.  I need him to take me to the commode at night, and get me in and out the house and car.  He has to make almost all the meals. 
 
And the people of Owaka and my sons and their families have been a constant source of help.  And after returning home, the care from Access has been wonderful – I have people coming in daily to shower or wash me, do exercises and every week I get an hour’s cleaning and two hours respite care for Malcolm. And we are entitled to 28 days annual respite care at Clutha Views.  I would advise others in a similar situation to take advantage of all the help available. 
 
We are lucky in the layout of the house. We have put a rail in up the steps to let me walk into the house.  Other changes we have had to make have been around the bedroom.  We now have a bed pole to help me get into bed and a seat over the toilet that allows me to get off it.I have been given a Laz-E-Boy and now a walker, though I haven't got very used to it yet. 

 
I don’t feel I myself have changed much – I appreciate more the efforts to accommodate wheelchairs. I haven’t lost my senses or my ability to read and I am gaining back the use of my right hand so I can type and write again mostly.  I speak a little more slowly and lose some words I am grasping for.  I gather many people with strokes get depression, but that doesn’t seem to have been a problem for me.  I am probably more anxious than I used to be, though that is lessening too.

Many of us had wondered what had happened. I hope you get this to a local rag because it is the sort of thing we all need to know. And from what you contribute here , you do indeed seemed little changed. So great to know that, Caro. Physical limitations and dependence are a trial but keeping the mind lively and on course is  a real blessing.. I suppose your fav Sauv Blanc is a no no?

Caro,

so pleased that you let share us in your present condition. Some time ago  I was realizing that from our small old BBC club there was already John Heseltine, Tas Khan and you, who went through all this. John is perhaps the one who is least recovered. As Priscilla said:
"Physical limitations and dependence are a trial but keeping the mind lively and on course is  a real blessing.." That's the most important.
I am for the moment three times a week four hours in the hospital for kidney dialysis, but if I look overthere around me, there are that many worser cases, especially youngsters. And after a lot of tests of the whole body, even the teeth , I will be on a list for a transplant...and then I go for the one hundred... . While we are on the fact of mobility it is possible to travel and to have dialysis somewhere else, but I don't know if it is worth all that effort. Have seen already that much in my life. And still can as I already did have a weekend in Paris between two sessions of dialysis. And the next one is planned for London. And when I will be on the "list" I have nevertheless to stay in a perimeter of some miles to reach the transplant center in half an hour.
But what we are moaning...I don't know how the circumstances are for Nielsen, but having to relate to a wheelchair as my wife I suppose is also a real burden. Niels?

Caro I wish you all the best and a steady recovery...and keep going that good way...

Your friend, Paul.

Nielsen,

"Regarding your quote above, for some time - since the BBC Boards and Lady of Sweetlake - I've been interested in how the 'zeven vereinigte Provincïes' evolved from "
55 jaar voor Christus : Batavieren en de Franken  komen naar ons land .
And from there it started. ...", and how the various provinces did so differently, some remaining rather rural and feudal societies when other grew with commercial centres like Amsterdam and Rotterdam, and how William the Silent turned into almost a republican.
Phew, I'll have to read closer into that."

And now you are sticking to the Dutch Republic, only one part of the Low Countries...
Not sure if William the Silent turned into almost a republican...he remained for all a prince...and thanks to his princely prerogatives he could as prince of Nassau give out "lettres de marque" to the Dutch privateers...and those by that legitimation were able to take De Briel and from there out...
And the Prince was very cautious...first he offered the throne after to have abjured Philip II to a French prince...it was only when that failed that he became by necessity Stafhouder of the Dutch Republic...
If you stick to the Dutch Republic read the monumental but accurate work of Jonathan Israel
https://www.amazon.co.uk/Dutch-Republic-Rise-Greatness-Fall/dp/0198207344

And I found the book of a later period the Glorious Revolution, William III, Louis XIV also very interesting:
https://books.google.be/books/about/William_III_the_Stadholder_king.html?id=gGVnAAAAMAAJ&redir_esc=y


If you want to have the more global Low Countries I recommand:
https://he.palgrave.com/page/detail/a-history-of-the-low-countries-/?sf1=barcode&st1=9780230293090
https://www.amazon.com/History-Low-Countries-J-Blom/dp/1845452720


Kind regards from Paul.

Caro :-
One thing that seems to get missed all too often - the carer. Make sure Malcolm takes full advantage of any respite time he is offered. In one of my volunteering roles, I've seen people run themselves ragged because they find it difficult to admit they are struggling  - they seem to feel that is letting down the one they are caring for, and it can be difficult to get them to see they are no use to either party if they don't get proper breaks - I hate the term "me time" but I suppose it does sort of indicate what I'm talking about.
Best wishes to you both.
Ian.

Thanks, Ian.  Carers here are entitled to 28 free days of respite care.  So far we have only taken about six of these. Three more next week.  For a start I didn't like being left on my own, but now I don't mind. Most of the trips we make are for things to do with my health - today to Dunedin to get a new splint for my leg, tomorrow a diabetes day (which I don't at all want to go to), on Monday we went in to the town 30 kms away for physio.  It's all a bit focused on me, though he does get away on most Thursdays and I am starting to get into other people's cars to go places.  Or at least get home from them. 

He doesn't really like leaving me in care - perhaps because I complain about the food there.  It's fine really, but I am used to more quality in the food we have.

Much as this becoming something of a waiting room, it's good to have Temps back...... even if she is getting low B grades. And I fear Caro may well complain about the food if she lingers long  in here. Since ID retired from presenting it, we no longer get decent coffee, either. I am not even sure what decent pub grub is, these days.

The worst thing about my poor B- grades is that I am absolutely forbidden to touch alcohol. I suggested to the doctor that I could just wash down a double dose of my dessicated liver meaty-treats every time I have a glass - or two - of my favourite Chateauneuf Du Pape. I got a stern look.

So, I mustn't. It's awful. MM has suggested a big glug of Communion wine if all else fails...

On the subject of pub grub, does anyone know of anywhere one can obtain such in Bideford? I'll be planning to spend some time there over the next few months - see http://www.ssfreshspring.co.uk/blog We are spoiled for choice at http://www.wllr.org.uk/  - three decent food pubs, none of which attempt to inflict "nouvelle cuisine" on their diners - by which they seem, all too often, to mean calling gravy "jus" and leaving the plate half empty. Not what one needs after a hard day volunteering.

Gilgamesh of Uruk wrote:

On the subject of pub grub, does anyone know of anywhere one can obtain such in Bideford? I'll be planning to spend some time there over the next few months - see http://www.ssfreshspring.co.uk/blog We are spoiled for choice at http://www.wllr.org.uk/  - three decent food pubs, none of which attempt to inflict "nouvelle cuisine" on their diners - by which they seem, all too often, to mean calling gravy "jus" and leaving the plate half empty. Not what one needs after a hard day volunteering.

The Seagate Hotel in Appledore itself is good, Gil - fresh, local fish with proper chips is the best thing on the menu, but there are lots of other choices. Bar is informal - "muddy paws and boots welcome". Are you staying in Appledore where the shipyard is, or actually in Bideford?

Best pub grub in the area is at the Duke of York in Iddesleigh: big drawback is it's about a thirty minute drive (will you have a car??) from Bideford/Appledore, in the back of beyond down twisty Devon lanes, but well worth the effort to get there - perhaps at weekends? Charlie Watts and his wife live just up the road and are said to go to the Duke of York when they are at home, although I have never seen them. Ted Hughes used to be a regular too. It's not in the least an arty, trendy "gastropub" sort of place place - quite the opposite. Food is really excellent and not too expensive. Definitely no nouvelle cuisine nonsense - all very ancienne cuisine and British. Their steak and kidney pie is famous, although I, of course, being a faddy veggie, have never eaten it. The Yorkshire puds are to die for. Big log fire and great atmosphere. Very fattening, proper puddings on offer, too - treacle tart with custard and such like. They do have a  "restaurant" room  -  but the bar is much better.

http://dukeofyorkdevon.co.uk/


EDIT:

“Beware the Prosecco drinking sheep.”

4 of 5 stars Reviewed 7 August 2016  

This is a pub of great character bordering on the quirky. Before I even went in I was greeted by a pet sheep, Rosie, belonging to some customers. She was playing football in the lane outside in between being fed Prosecco out of a glass. The standard of her footwork deteriorated as the evening progressed.

Temperance!

now I start to understand...
"Their steak and kidney pie is famous, although I, of course, being a FADDY VEGGIE, have never eaten it."
Temperance, what a delicious sensation, an inch thick steak, only one minute on each side on high fire...the water comes in my mouth...
http://6lumens.com/blog/2012/03/steak-and-beef-in-paris/


Your meaty friend Paul.

Sorry, Paul, but that picture turns my stomach. This is more my sort of thing - with some nice crusty bread and some good cheeses, too - and fruit and yoghurt and nuts and seeds and other such delicious things. Consuming blood and offal seems to me to be so, so - well - barbaric somehow. And it is very wasteful. Sorry. We veggies needn't be weak and pallid - just need to eat more of some animal sources of nutrients. That said, I must admit I am enjoying eating eggs again - I had forgotten how nice a fried egg on toast is. And "an egg, boiled very soft, is not unwholesome" (Jane Austen!). I do like turkey baguettes, too.  

I do hope MM doesn't post anything bloody and revolting either to taunt me. Perhaps we need a "Vegetables - the Benefits" thread?  

Well Temp, a few days ago I did read a slightly odd short story, The Glass of Blood by Jean Lorrain* (reproduced in The Decadent Cookbook, publ. Dedalus, 1995) and I immediately thought of you and your meaty pills. The story refers to the popular Victorian treatment for tuberculosis/phthisis/consumption (although as a treatment it was never approved by the medical profession) which involved drinking still warm, fresh calves' blood, that was of course readily available only from abbatoirs. With a bit of research online I even found a picture depicting just that. From Le Monde Illustré of 1860 the illustration depicts a well-heeled young Parisian woman standing in the courtyard of the slaughterhouse at La Villette in the city. All about her is carnage. Nearby a slaughterman, meat cleaver in hand, stands over the body of a freshly despatched cow. The woman meanwhile sips delicately from her glass, while others similarly demure, wait patiently by the gate to receive their portion.

But in deference to your weakened constitution, I decided not to post it.

* Jean Lorrain (1855-1906) was a bit of a rum cove. As a novellist and dramatist he was a leading figure in the French fin-de-siècle Decadent genre. He was openly gay and claimed to be Marcel Proust's lover although Proust publicly denied their relationship and the two actually fought a duel over the issue ... they both survived. Lorrain was also romantically involved with the composer Reynaldo Hahn, as well as with both his chauffeur and his secretary. He died of peritonitis, possibly the result of his syphilis and excessive drug use. He was indeed a bit of an odd bugger.

PaulRyckier wrote:

Nielsen,

"Regarding your quote above, for some time - since the BBC Boards and Lady of Sweetlake - I've been interested in how the 'zeven vereinigte Provincïes' evolved from "
55 jaar voor Christus : Batavieren en de Franken  komen naar ons land .
And from there it started. ...", and how the various provinces did so differently, some remaining rather rural and feudal societies when other grew with commercial centres like Amsterdam and Rotterdam, and how William the Silent turned into almost a republican.
Phew, I'll have to read closer into that."

And now you are sticking to the Dutch Republic, only one part of the Low Countries...
Not sure if William the Silent turned into almost a republican...he remained for all a prince...and thanks to his princely prerogatives he could as prince of Nassau give out "lettres de marque" to the Dutch privateers...and those by that legitimation were able to take De Briel and from there out...
And the Prince was very cautious...first he offered the throne after to have abjured Philip II to a French prince...it was only when that failed that he became by necessity Stafhouder of the Dutch Republic...
If you stick to the Dutch Republic read the monumental but accurate work of Jonathan Israel
https://www.amazon.co.uk/Dutch-Republic-Rise-Greatness-Fall/dp/0198207344

And I found the book of a later period the Glorious Revolution, William III, Louis XIV also very interesting:
https://books.google.be/books/about/William_III_the_Stadholder_king.html?id=gGVnAAAAMAAJ&redir_esc=y


If you want to have the more global Low Countries I recommand:
https://he.palgrave.com/page/detail/a-history-of-the-low-countries-/?sf1=barcode&st1=9780230293090
https://www.amazon.com/History-Low-Countries-J-Blom/dp/1845452720


Kind regards from Paul.

Thank you for these kind words and threads, Paul.

I had just prepared a most well thought out reply, when I hit the wrong button and it disappeared.
Hopefully you'll permit me to question you in pm's, please.

Kind regards from me and my best wishes on your health.

Meles meles wrote:

All about her is carnage. Nearby a slaughterman, meat cleaver in hand, stands over the body of a freshly despatched cow. The woman meanwhile sips delicately from her glass, while others similarly demure, wait patiently by the gate to receive their portion.

But in deference to your weakened constitution I decided not to post it.

All sounds suspiciously Mithraic to me!  

Some of the Victorian "cures" were worse than the illnesses they were treating. Apparently raw, chopped liver was also a favourite for TB sufferers. I can't imagine anything worse - the meaty-treat liver tablets are bad enough. As for my "weakened constitution", I'm not quite lying on the sofa all pale and interesting like the Lady of the Camellias - I actually feel quite back to normal now. Do you think I can start drinking again? I've not touched a drop of Chateauneuf du Pape for at least three weeks...

MM wrote:

* Jean Lorrain (1855-1906) was a bit of a rum cove. As a novelist and dramatist he was a leading figure in the French fin-de-siècle Decadent genre. He was openly gay and claimed to be Marcel Proust's lover although Proust publicly denied their relationship and the two actually fought a duel over the issue ... they both survived. Lorrain was also romantically involved with the composer Reynaldo Hahn, as well as with both his chauffeur and his secretary. He died of peritonitis probably the result of his syphilis and excessive drug use.

Good Lord, what a colourful lives some people do lead, MM!  


 Always makes me laugh how one minute she's lying all weepy and exhausted on the chaise longue and the next she's pirouetting and grand jeté-ing around the stage like a mad thing. A few of glasses of bull's blood obviously work wonders for these fragile French ladies. Post your picture, MM - all interesting history of medicine stuff. Haven't we got a thread on that topic somewhere?

Temperance wrote:

Some of the Victorian "cures" were worse than the illnesses they were treating. Apparently raw, chopped liver was also a favourite for TB sufferers. I can't imagine anything worse - the meaty-treat liver tablets are bad enough.

Well I did at first glace think that your bottle labelled "Dessicated Liver" described the diagnosis rather than the cure.

But frankly I can't think of anything worse than dried-liver pills ... why not just have a lovely crisp lettuce salad with red onion, cherry tomatoes, pine-nuts, some crunchy radishes or maybe a little sweet-corn, ... and a few morsels of lightly fried, and then cooled, chicken livers? It's absolutely delicious, costs next to nothing, takes just a few minutes to prepare, is balanced nutritionally .... but nevertheless costs a fortune if served in a restaurant.

Temperance wrote:

Always makes me laugh how one minute she's lying all weepy and exhausted on the chaise longue and the next she's pirouetting and grand jeté-ing around the stage like a mad thing.

 
It's like in Puccini's opera, La Bohême, throughout which the heroine, Mimi, is slowly and tragically dying of tuberculosis, but she still manages to rouse herself to sing a few arias and duets before her final dramatic demise. And it's the same with the consumptive Violetta in Verdi's La Traviata ... again, oodles of good lung function until she suddenly expires in the final act, elegantly on the chaise-longue, just after an aria, and a couple of discrete little coughs.

Temperance wrote:

Good Lord, what a colourful lives some people do lead, MM!

Or as The Times commented in its theatre review of Sarah Bernhardt's somewhat innovative and contraversial performance as Cleo in Antony and Cleopatra (1899):

"How very different to the home life of our own dear queen."

Meles meles wrote:

Temperance wrote:

Some of the Victorian "cures" were worse than the illnesses they were treating. Apparently raw, chopped liver was also a favourite for TB sufferers. I can't imagine anything worse - the meaty-treat liver tablets are bad enough.

Well I did at first glace think that your bottle labelled "Dessicated Liver" described the diagnosis rather than the cure.

But frankly I can't think of anything worse than dried-liver pills ... why not just have a lovely crisp lettuce salad ganished with red onion, pine-nuts, some sweet-corn maybe, ... and a few morsels of lightly fried, and then cooled, chicken livers? It's absolutely delicious, costs next to nothing, takes just a few minutes to prepare, is balanced nutritionally .... but nevertheless costs a fortune if served in a restaurant.

I know - it's quite irrational, but I just can't stomach offal. I can pretend the tablets are something else and just swallow them quickly.

Just for the record, my liver is not at all "dessicated", thank you very much: the liver function tests were all perfectly normal. But alcohol is really bad for the red blood cells, even in moderate amounts - and who is ever moderate? I didn't know that: I thought red wine was quite a healthy choice of poison, as poisons go. But then alcohol is bad, full-stop, no matter how we try to fool ourselves it's OK.

MM wrote:

 
It's like in Puccini's opera, La Bohême, throughout which the heroine, Mimi, is slowly and tragically dying of tuberculosis, but she still manages to rouse herself to sing a few arias and duets before her final dramatic demise. And it's the same with the consumptive Violetta in Verdi's La Traviata ... again, oodles of good lung function until she suddenly expires in the final act, elegantly on the chaise-longue, after just a couple of discrete little coughs.

Yes, dying elegantly was so important! Odd too how being consumptive was considered really attractive in the 19th century - a bit like the 1990s "heroin chic" look when models had to look emaciated and ill -  like extras from Trainspotting.

But on a different tack ... why do you think Nordmann's name appears to be glowing? Is it an online manifestation of his enormous aura perhaps? (or is it just my PC?).

And for what my opinion is worth, yes Temp, I should think just a wee glass of Chateauneuf-du-Pape could be in order. Is it too early to broach a cask? The vindage/grape harvest is still in full swing here so it's far too early to sample the new wines (that'll be for St Martin's Day - 11 Nov) ... but last year's wines should now be starting to be drinkable. A wee glass anyone?

Thank'ee, tha's most kind, Sorr, please as Oi don' 'ave a glass, may Oi use a mug, Sorr?

You can use a glass, a goblet, a tankard, a mug, a cup or indeed whatever you wish ... even just lap it from a saucer if that's your thing. That's what I found the dog doing this morning after I'd spilled some wine, went to get a clean cloth, and was surprised to find on my return the dog lapping at the spilled puddle. He's a bit tubby at present, loves his food, and always looks forward to his morning croissant, but I trust he isn't an alcoholic dog

He could be. Some animals are born alcoholics: this article from the Independent reports that mice with a faulty gene will do anything for a drink. My name is Mickey and...

http://www.independent.co.uk/news/science/single-fault-in-one-gene-can-lead-to-alcohol-addiction-in-laboratory-mice-8965137.html

But I am sure Doggy-Dog is simply a discerning connoisseur of fine wine, not a real boozer.

Temperance wrote:

But I am sure Doggy-Dog is simply a discerning connoisseur of fine wine, not a real boozer.

Hmmm, maybe ... while he likes cheese, charcuterie, and yes, it seems wine ... he also rolls in cow dung, treasures manky old dug-up bones, eats pig crap, and licks his own balls ... although maybe the last is just to show off that while he can, I can't!

Too much information about poor Doggy-Dog, MM!

Palmerston, the F.O. cat (Diplomog), was similarly embarrassed a few days ago. Some obscure member of the F.O. staff  (see link below) made a video for the recent Open Day at Whitehall, and a rather inappropriate comment was made about Palmerston. It's near the end at about 3 minutes in. This tactless member of staff refers to Palmerston's "paws and other things". Honestly, what will the Chinese think?

Temperance wrote:

This tactless member of staff ....

Oh surprise! ... I thought you were referring to a casual comment made by some minor lacky, but you weren't, you were really referring to the words of the great gormless BoJo.

But it is quite amusing ... before bexit Bojo often appeared on French TV, being interviewed and giving his comments  about all sorts of French and European matters, because of course he claims to speak French. In all honesty however his spoken French always came across as schoolboy standard at best ... and sometimes completely comic  (and all the more so because he always reckoned to be so fluent). But now that's he is "Very Important" he doesn't seem to give the French media these same comments or interviews anymore, or at least never other than in English or through an official English translator. Previously he, or his PR guys, probably believed that he was a fluent French speaker and it was good for him to be seen mangling his verbs and mis-pronouncing things on French TV ... but now, with Foreign & Commonwealth Office advice and guidance; I guess he's been told to shut up and only read, in English, the official prompt cards given!

Temperance,

"Just for the record, my liver is not at all "dessicated", thank you very much: the liver function tests were all perfectly normal. But alcohol is really bad for the red blood cells, even in moderate amounts - and who is ever moderate? I didn't know that: I thought red wine was quite a healthy choice of poison, as poisons go. But then alcohol is bad, full-stop, no matter how we try to fool ourselves it's OK."

I have a severe diet either, for instance only one apple per day, no fruit. Or instead of that apple only three strawberries a day. I learned in the last two and a half years to taste my fruit, not swollowing it in one smack as I did before. Now for instance for that one strawberry that I consume sometimes from the quarter of a kilo (half a pound) of my wife's: taking it in the mouth, then slightly pressing it between my tongue and palate and then whole slowly sucking up the juice for a twenty seconds...As for cheese, nearly no cheese (phosphor) and only soft cheese...and I who liked that much "old Amsterdammer" and old "parmesan"...

No, you haven't to separate completely from the delicious things of Chateau Neuf du Pâpe...but you have to have a strong discipline...and I don't know your mentale strength ...one small glass...sipping every two minutes a little bit...tasting as if you are testing the wine sitting in a select company...if you can resist the temptation, you have my blessing for that particular case...and there will nothing appear in your bloodvalues....

Your sympathysing friend Paul.

You have my sympathy, Paul: the husband of one of my friends is, like you, waiting for a kidney transplant, and she has to watch his potassium intake like a hawk.

You make me feel ashamed - as I said to LiR on another thread, I really have no health problems other than those I make for myself.

On a lighter note, this was sent to me as a birthday card:

Couldn't you have a little glass of this, Temp?




Desiccated liver makes me think of school dinners in the 50s - ox liver cooked until it looked and tasted like the sole of a very old boot discarded by a very old tramp. Now calf's liver, pink, with fried onions, mashed potatoes and a Madeira sauce, that's quite another thing.

ps: some of the letters are wearing off my keyboard so I tend confuse i and o, I almost waxed lyrical about 'calf's lover, ponk' which, on reflection, you might have found more appealing.

It's the worn-out 'a' and 's' on my computer that confuses people, though not me.  I can't answer those quiz questions that ask which letters are or are not on the top row etc, but I just automatically know where to go, though I wasn't taught touch typing (or any typing) at school.  I must just press harder with the outer fingers of my left hand, presumably because I am right-handed and feel the need to press harder with those.  What I find now is that I type both of adjacent letters, and have to go back and delete them, often then pressing the sideways slash button underneath the backspace instead of the correct one.

Our local butcher, when I was a kid, started his day with two rituals - a visit to the abattoir to collect that which he would sell later, and while there to drink his daily pint of bull's blood, helpfully siphoned off for him by his mates there, and without which he reckoned he would not have the strength to endure the long day butchering ahead of him (his physique suggested there was some truth in this assessment). The beverage was helpfully deposited in a redundant Guinness stout bottle which he could then swig from as he drove on the journey from Dublin to his shop without arousing suspicion if stopped (these were different times). He swore by it, though the practice led to some unforeseen complications, such as when in mid-swig he shunted his butcher's van into the back of a vehicle ahead of him which had braked suddenly at a red light, and the result saw poor Frank whisked off to A&E with suspected decapitation, the denizens of our little village deprived their suet, mince and sausages for the several hours it took him to persuade the medical staff in Jervis Street that he didn't need a full transfusion.

By the way, anyone know if Trike is ok?

Trust nordmann to come up with the best bloody story!  

One of my schoolmates (not one of the Corbyns) was a member of a family of butchers, who had shops in all 6 of the "Five Towns" and in Newcastle (NEWcastle btw not newCAStle). He was sent to their abattoir one day with a young member of staff, in one of the company vans to collect a couple of churns of pig's blood to make black puddings. On the way back, they heard a loud "clang" from t5he rear of the van, but they were in heavy traffic and could not stop immediately, so leaving a trail of blood along the High Street (Longton? Fenton? Hanley? - memory fails on that point). Chaotic scenes ensued - women fainting, police cars, health inspectors with buckets of sawdust, finally a fire appliance to hose down the street. All part of life's rich tapestry.

"All part of life's rich tapestry"

How poetic, Gil. You have an appealing language, Gil.

Paul from near Bruges.

A poor thing, but not mine own. Usually attributed to Arthur Marshall, but probably predates him.

I really must learn not to argue with nordmann and I shall write it out several times in all of this blood smeared on the bar counter.... yuk. So who nicked the rubber gloves?

Her?

Nobody wears Marigolds anymore, nordmann. You have to have a box of these handy these days. I quite like them - they make you look as though you're about to perform brain surgery, even if you are only Mr Sheening the bookshelves.

We should have a supply here, ready for our sporadic Res His blood-lettings.

Keep them to hand.... (that nord - 'e thinks 'e's sane. yer know.)

Is anyone sane around here? I sometimes wonder. I include myself in that.

I need a drink - and not just to sip nicely and moderately, as Paul advises. I need to gulp. Where's that barrel  MM mentioned? Who cares about destroying B vitamins anyway? Serves them right.

Pass the wine, the gloves and the scalpel.

What you need is nice hot cup of kale..... I grow it and it's foul. If one drinks it to live longer to drink more I'm not sure I'll bother.