nordmann wrote:

The colour preservation on those frescoes in Pompeii is absolutely stunning.

They certainly are. Showing the food on offer, chicken, duck and dog ????

Dogs, as one would expect, were generally regarded by Romans as faithful domestic animals kept for hunting, protection or as household pets. They were not usually eaten, however there were exceptions:

"The habits of our ancestors lead me to say something else about dogs. The meat of nursing puppies was considered such a pure foodstuff that it was used to appease enemy gods more than any other sacrificial offering. Genita Mana [Goddess of childbirth] was honoured with a dog sacrifice and puppy meat is, even today, served at meals in honour of the deity. We know from the plays of Plautus that it was eaten a great deal in former times."


There's another interesting point about the meaty food remains in the excavated pots for hot food set in the bar's counter. The eruption of Vesuvius occurred just weeks - or at most a few months depending how one estimates the exact date of the eruption - after the emperor Titus had succeeded his father Vespasian upon the latter's death in June 79. One of Vespasian's edicts, which remained in place through several succeeding emperors, was that no caupona or popina ie street bars such as the one excavated, were, as a food hygiene matter, to serve any hot food other than simple puls, a sort of porridge based on beans, peas or lentils. This followed on from an earlier law under Claudius which had strictly forbidden bars from serving cooked meat and there are indeed records of bars that did so being shut down. To circumvent these laws meaty chops, steaks, sausages etc - at least those for sale, hot, as takeaway foods - were generally boiled or grilled in the street, but by casual, itinerant, dodgey unlicensed traders, rather than by the regular bars/taverns who risked prosecution or closure if they dared to serve cooked meat (Cassius Dio Historia Romana IX 6-7). These recent finds rather suggest to me that the local laws in Pompeii were either different to Rome or that they were rather more casually enforced.

These seedy street bars in Pompeii didn't just sell wine and nibbles; they often doubled as a brothel with a shabby room or two upstairs - as other archaeological excavations have already revealed. Remember also that 1st century Pompeii wasn't just a seaside holiday resort; but was also a busy commercial port with ships, cargoes and sailors, coming and going from all around the Mediterranean; as well as having a major military naval base just across the bay at Misenum. I rather suspect Pompeii was akin to combining all the seedier aspects of 1950s Brighton, Southampton and Portsmouth, but all rolled together into one, quite small town. That's probably why it did so well - until unfortunately wiped out by Vesuvius in AD79.

An engraved advertisment plaque for one such establishment (originally from Isernia, southern Italy, now in the Louvre) reads:

- Landlord, the bill please.
- That'll be one sestertius for the wine, one for the bread and two for the side dishes.
- Fine.
- And eight for the girl.
- That's fine too.
- And two for the hay for your donkey.
- That donkey's going to be the ruin of me!

Pork pies (as with most things) can come in good and bad versions. And top marks Temp for digging up the most hideously unappetising image of a slice. Burnt, unevenly baked pastry, way too much jelly and poorly mixed pork filling ... truly yuk looking.

Prepared well, however, it's delicious. And the much maligned Melton Mowbray does, nevertheless, set a high standard in the field in terms of consistent quality. Away from mass produced Meltons, however, one can always make one's own or else source pork pies (as we do) from the local farmers' market. Pork coffins are very old recipe in English cooking and even feature in Richard II's The Forme of Cury in which they are given the rather posh name of Chastelets. That said - I can't say I'd fancy a Pompeii Pooch Pie though.

The trick I've learned with raised pies, after a couple of spectacular failures, is that the hot-water crust pastry really does need to be moulded quite hot, before being chilled in the fridge; having a decent pie or cake tin with a moveable bottom or sides to get the cooked pie out always greatly helps too; and of course having some good strong 'setting' jelly/stock to top it up and fill the gaps as it cools. I made quite a big one (2.5 kg) this November from all the trimmings after butchering the bit of wild-boar I'd been given by the hunters, together with some left-over duck, gésiers de canard, bacon bits and other meaty morsels, plus plenty of wild mushrooms and spices. But I followed a modern Keith Floyd recipe for the proportions of flour, water, milk and fat for the pastry, and for the cooking time. I never thought to look in the Forme of Cury: a pity as had I done so I'd definitely have given the old 14th century recipe a go. My pie has been in the freezer for a month now but prompted by all the pie comments here it's reminded me that I should probably get it out to defrost ready for the 31st.

Dirk Marinus wrote:

Quote :

Paul

Your :
""Passez une bonne fin d'année" (in our dialect: passeer 'n goed eindejaars) (spend a good end-of-the-year?)"

Do they use the Dutch expression of " Zalig uiteinde" in the Dutch speaking part of Belgium at all instead of "passeer  een goed eindejaars"?

Dirk

 
Dirk,

excuses for not replying immediately...

No, no "zalig uiteinde" overhere, at least in the provinces of East and West Flanders of which I know the dialects.
And now thinking about it: The French "passeer" is many times not said...thus only: "goe eindejaars" or "de goe feesten, hé"
(good end of the year or good festivities)
And "zalig" is only used for Christmas: "blessed Christmas and happy New Year" (zalig Kerstfeest en gelukkig Nieuwjaar) in official Dutch (as you know)

Paul.

Will not trample on Temp's Tennyson....... Oh the bells the bells...........so Happy New Year to all members, our guest and the bot. It is nearly midday and so far 2021 it is  reasonably good.... half a day at a time might be a  useful guideline. How is it where your are? It's dark and gloomy here in UK. I mean the weather not the economy..... down normann, down, good boy... it's only half of day one.

Bit embarrassed about all the Victorian bells to be honest. I expect Tennyson was, too, if the truth be known, which it seldom is. He should have listened to Mrs.Tennyson.

Have deleted burnt cauliflower cheese picture - not appropriate elephant fodder.

Gloriously miserable article in the Guardian this morning - just what you want to read on New Year's Day. Honestly, predictions for 1066 were probably cheerier.

Transferring comment to another thread.

I wasn't sure where to post this general query.

 Were Charlie Chaplin's suits made of Trampoline?

Large tawny port, please. What do    you do about a crowd who are getting bored by it all..... yet can't switch channels....change the govt then, some say....who don't realise that there are some very clever people paddling like mad to keep us from the brink of something too awful to think about. I recall an episode of Foyles War... Copper in Wartime... who investigated some dark doings in a secret place. he found out the outfit was making and stock piling coffins as the battle for the skies and the bomb raids got worse. Governments don't want to cause a panic.... even worse to control than a virus... but how do they get across how serious everyone's part in all of this is... boooooring yes. I can't begin to tell  how boring a five year war is. Someone should have explained to Mr Hitler about that. I   guess there were people who thought he might lose steam and stop. Or believed an immediate stop to him and his would be found and everything zing back to how it used to be overnight... and were there those who thought about putting on all the street lights and party and to see if anything happened? (Great - we've got search lights too!)

Nah - too much fiction will be the end of us... this virus affair is not a soap opera which tidies the ends after a run for a new story to start. In real life  we are all celebrities wanting to get out of here. Where for God's sake are Saints Ant and Dec who can move this show on a bit... we are getting sooooo booored.

And yet another port please. Aged in the oak - and yes,  of course clean the bottle with a Dettol wipe again.

We're low on port at the moment (what with Brexit restrictions, hoarders, click&collect crazies, European wine lakes proving to be fiction, and all that). Oh, wait a minute - just found this bottle from California in the cellar. Bottoms up!

World's End wine is a great name nord - but I'll raise you Covidien medical equipment:



Not a photo-shopped montage but an actual promotional image from a Dublin-based supplier of surgical and other health care devices which ceased trading under that name after being taken over by Minneapolis-based rival Medtronic in 2015. I can't decide whether, under the current climate, that name would have been a bane or a boon.

Supposedly, the actor in question was Glynn Edwards:

Now that's what I call a winning combination of intelligent Irish wit and fierce indignation. Worked - and continues working - a treat. Better than a rant. Clever old Richard Harris. He, O'Toole and Burton were three great actors and drinking pals. Imagine crossing them on a night out...

"I did quite enjoy the days when one went for a beer at one's local in Paris and woke up in Corsica..."


PS Wasn't the unfortunate Edwards in Zulu?

PPS

Here is laid the Body
of Jonathan Swift, Doctor of Sacred Theology,
Dean of this Cathedral Church,
where fierce Indignation
can no longer
injure the Heart.
Go forth, Voyager,
and copy, if you can,
this vigorous (to the best of his ability)
Champion of Liberty.

Irishman sacrifices his job to put an English bigot in his place with his superior intelligence and wit. Sounds very familiar, very familiar indeed. Though a certain king of Epirus wouldn't find much humour in it.

Still, it makes for a good story afterwards that even an English person might enjoy ...

On the subject of Shakespearean mirth, how about this for Willy W anticipating the post-Brexit epitaph to be carved on the grave of what was once a new Jerusalem: "Make us adore our errors. Laugh at us, while we strut to our confusion."
(Antony and Cleopatra, Act III, Scene 13)

Temperance wrote:

Clever old Richard Harris. He, O'Toole and Burton were three great actors and drinking pals. Imagine crossing them on a night out...

That would make a super television play. Maybe set in the famed Horseshoe Bar of Dublin's Shelburne Hotel, say, on the eve of the Ireland v Wales 5-Nations match in 1964.

nordmann wrote:

Irishman sacrifices his job to put an English bigot in his place with his superior intelligence and wit. Sounds very familiar, very familiar indeed. Though a certain king of Epirus wouldn't find much humour in it.

Still, it makes for a good story afterwards that even an English person might enjoy ...

On the subject of Shakespearean mirth, how about this for Willy W anticipating the post-Brexit epitaph to be carved on the grave of what was once a new Jerusalem: "Make us adore our errors. Laugh at us, while we strut to our confusion."
(Antony and Cleopatra, Act III, Scene 13)

You should put that on the old Shakespeare thread...

We are all now left wondering what that particular "good story" was. Bet it was good.

I expect lots of us - even Priscilla - have been left ruefully counting the cost of a victory. If not an actual job, just one delicious rapier-thrust can cost a promotion.

But it was worth it...

PS Yes, Vizzer - but would Corsica prove to be the trio's final destination - or somewhere stranger?

Temperance wrote:

would Corsica prove to be the trio's final destination

Very close in the case of Richard Harris. He'd end up in Sardinia for the filming of Antonioni's Deserto Rosso that year.

Hmmm;

'God put me on this earth to raise sheer hell.' Richard Burton
'I was a sinner. I slugged some people. I hurt many people. And it's true, I never looked back to see the casualties.' Richard Harris
'Booze is the most outrageous of all drugs, which is why I chose it.' Peter O'Toole
'I don't have a drink problem. But if that was the case and doctors told me I had to stop I'd like to think I would be brave enough to drink myself into the grave.' Oliver Reed

Temperance wrote:

PS Wasn't the unfortunate Edwards in Zulu?

He was indeed, Temp. Played VC winner, Corporal William Allen. Probably better known for his role as "Dave the Barman" in Minder.

Unlikely that Harris ever went to the Winchester Club !!!

Large Coffee, please - head done in by getting involved the Knitting of History and the History of Knitting.

The knitting of history is why we're here darn it. Coffee helps some. I prefer a perfectly brewed pot of Assam or Ceylon on a Saturday morning followed by a walk along the strand. Hopefully not having to pick up too many dropped stitches along the way.

Now that Dry January has passed are we allowed a drink? Perhaps not, as Temp has said it's probably not a good idea at the moment.

Temperance, on the Prexit thread wrote:

I have vowed not to have a single glass of wine in case I suddenly get called for my vaccination (no sign of it yet): apparently the virus loves - and thrives on - even one unit of good French (especially French) plonk. But all this is so sad I need to drown my sorrows. I shall go to the bar and demand a very expensive Chateauneuf-du-Pape in a nice, posh glass. Virus be damned - will take a double dose of Vitamin D afterwards.

Perhaps that's the reason why so many French say they don't want to get vaccinated just yet.

As a month for abstention February is probably better than January. Not only is it shorter but its name derives from the Latin februum, signifying purification rituals. Anyway since the start of the year I've decided to restrict my drinking to one per day: I have managed to stick to this and am proud to report that I am now up to 27th April 2022.

Meles meles wrote:

Now that Dry January has passed are we allowed a drink? Perhaps not, as Temp has said it's probably not a good idea at the moment.

Temperance, on the Prexit thread wrote:

I have vowed not to have a single glass of wine in case I suddenly get called for my vaccination (no sign of it yet): apparently the virus loves - and thrives on - even one unit of good French (especially French) plonk. But all this is so sad I need to drown my sorrows. I shall go to the bar and demand a very expensive Chateauneuf-du-Pape in a nice, posh glass. Virus be damned - will take a double dose of Vitamin D afterwards.

Perhaps that's the reason why so many French say they don't want to get vaccinated just yet.

As a month for abstention February is probably better than January. Not only is it shorter but its name derives from the Latin februum, signifying purification rituals. Anyway since the start of the year I've decided to restrict my drinking to one per day: I have managed to stick to this and am proud to report that I am now up to 27th April 2022.

I haven't had a drink since New Year's Eve, when I went wild and had two tins of Marks and Spencer Christmas Gin and Diet Tonic. We were in Tier 3 then, not lockdown, and it was total abandon - and probably an illegal gathering.  Nothing since. I feel much worse.

I am impressed that you have already made it to next year, MM. Roll on, Spring 2022!

Can I order a bottle of my favourite Chateauneuf-du-Pape, to be served in one of your lovely glasses? Please do have several glasses with me - let's get you to July 2022 - and anyone else around. We really need to have a laugh again. Perhaps the virus will take a day off...

Chateauneuf-du-Pape eh? Brings back memories of my 21st party where the family guests drank some wine but my best friend and flatmate had Chateauneuf-du-Pape. I don't know how we knew it was good since we mostly went to drunken parties at university and scrounged beer off the boys. Or got sick drinking too much cider at one memorable dance. Have always remembered how gentlemanly my date that night was. Got the vomit off the floor and came round the next day to the hostel to check I was all right.

I  and my mother seem to have been surviving on a diet of: Speckled Hen, Newcastle Brown Ale, and gin. 

  I hope you will agree that the Oxford comma was necessary in this case.


I'm  probably wrong  - I haven't had a pickled gannet for years and am wondering whether we should smoke them.

Newcastle and gin hasn't always been a bad combo:



We're having problems with the pickled gannets lately - a certificate of origin would rather give the game (pardon the pun) away and securing a vet to issue a health certificate is impossible. Too bloody honest, those vet types. Comes from lack of practice in lying, I reckon. The only people on the planet who don't have to make up an excuse for being regularly found up to the elbow in cows' intimates.  Importing gannets as foodstuff and then processing them through bongs is probably a breach of Article 16 anyway, so I recommend you stick to the shaved ferret droppings we've been stockpiling in advance of Brexit. They're world-beating, I hear.

Bad news on the Chateauneuf-du-Pape front too, I'm afraid. Our last consignment was held up so long in Calais that it ended up being consumed by yellow-jacketed French farmers burning fish in protest at falling sheep imports (sheep are bloody dangerous when they start falling on you unexpectedly). Anyway, can I recommend our alternative vin-de-maison? Black Country Nun - trodden by genuine yam-yam trotters the true noggy way. Has a bouquet like a reasty babbie and as full bodied as a tatter's oss. And no, we don't believe the "nun" bit either, unless they mean the bottles are empty.

MM and others there seems there in the South of France again some entering of Sahara sands. We had it here some years ago and wondering what it was on my car here near the Belgian coast, they answered me it was Sahara sand...

And now again:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qg2vqP4n-cM

Before it enters our region and perhaps the British Isles, how is it there in your neck of the woods?

I had the same experience with my own car Paul about 10 years ago but come to think of it I can't remember whether it was Saharan desert sand or Icelandic volcanic ash.

Talking about red skies (or rather hot air) the BBC's coverage of the 6 Nations (rugby) Union Championship began this weekend. Due to the pandemic the matches were played to empty stadia. Because of this the television broadcasters decided to add artificial crowd sounds in order to compensate for the lack of atmosphere. So loud were these sounds at times that they actually drowned out the voices of the commentators at crucial points in the games. I can't decide whether the producers should be applauded for their commitment to realism or hooted for the sheer absurdity of it all.

Vizzer wrote:

I had the same experience with my own car Paul about 10 years ago but come to think of it I can't remember whether it was Saharan desert sand or Icelandic volcanic ash.

Talking about red skies (or rather hot air) the BBC's coverage of the 6 Nations (rugby) Union Championship began this weekend. Due to the pandemic the matches were played to empty stadia. Because of this the television broadcasters decided to add artificial crowd sounds in order to compensate for the lack of atmosphere. So loud were these sounds at times that they actually drowned out the voices of the commentators at crucial points in the games. I can't decide whether the producers should be applauded for their commitment to realism or hooted for the sheer absurdity of it all.

Vizzer, no, no in the time of the outburst in Iceland nothing overhere. I have seen in the time the map with the area where the volcanic ash was dispersed and if I recall it well it came not that far as here (Belgian coast)

And after a quick research on the mighty internet via Google (yes nowadays we live in a new era in my humble opinion) I found:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2010_eruptions_of_Eyjafjallaj%C3%B6kull

And our Belgian received Sahara sand was, I found out quickly with the same method, seemingly in 2008:
https://www.knack.be/nieuws/wetenschap/saharazand-bedekt-belgie-met-stoflaag/article-normal-105485.html?cookie_check=1612731524

And as mentioned to MM, I see now that we can see it tomorrow overhere
https://nl.metrotime.be/2019/04/23/must-read/morgen-in-belgie-kans-op-buien-en-saharazand/
I suppose MM in his neck of the woods in Southern France will have received more from that stuff...

And yes those "Corona" times...here I saw about a match that there was a public allowed and they were separated on the seats each time (if I recall it well) with two seats in between filled for the TV covering with in each seat a photograph of virtual members on life size and on cardboard. I guess there was also some background sounds directed along the high moments of the play.
https://www.cardboardcutoutstandees.com/

Kind regards, Paul.

As I was talking to MM on his "dish of the day" thread about shrimps eating not that different from eating for instance locusts I had an old remembrance of fishermen from Zeebrugge we were in contact with. My parents were both fishmerchants...
They told me once that they many times at sea ate the whole freshly cooked shrimp with head and shell to have the taste of their fresh catch from the sea. And now I ask why not?...After all it was cooked and all fresh ingredients...?

Yes that Belgian fishery, only a skeleton  of its past. Now most boats sailing under the Dutch flag...Were are the times that I sat many times for three hours watching the "shrimp boats?" (garnaalboten) leaving and entering the harbour. Boats as this one:
https://www.oostendsegarnaalkroketten.be/nl/gepeld-en-goedgekeurd



And it was exactly that sight that I had in the time, watching from the inner of an old Chevrolet from beginning the Thirties.
Of course those new big Dutch? trailers are quite some other stuff than these boats of the Fifties...nearly industrial I would say...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dWJifSzDNi8

But back to locusts and shrimps...why not try once a locust instead of a shrimp?...locusts that kind of land shrimps?...
A bit from the green boys? But nevertheless why not if it can add to the nutrition of the world population...
https://entovegan.com/eat-shrimp-lobster-why-not-insects/
and about the taste...
http://en.eat-locust.com/archives/345

I like the idea of 7,000,000,000 humans suddenly turning on the locusts and eating them by the handful. What a role reversal that would be. Us now outnumbering the countless themselves. And when we've finished with the locusts we can then move on to the cockroaches. "So you'll still be here after the nuclear winter and when we're all gone, will ya? Well, we'll soon see about that!"

I suppose the cockroaches have a secret (or not so secret) weapon in their defence - the many potentially pathogenic enterobacteriaceae which they can carry. Us just thinking about that would start swinging the advantage back in their favour in terms of psychological warfare alone.

P.S. Should one write "cockroaches' faeces" or "cockroach's faeces" or "cockroach faeces"? I'm veering towards "cockroach faeces". Not because that's necessarily correct but when it come to apostrophes, a useful rule of thumb is - 'if in doubt, leave it out'. It's sort of the punctuation equivalent of the saying 'Better to keep quiet and be thought a fool than to open one's mouth and remove all doubt.'

Vizzer wrote:

P.S. Should one write "cockroaches' faeces" or "cockroach's faeces" or "cockroach faeces"? I'm veering towards "cockroach faeces". Not because that's necessarily correct but when it come to apostrophes, a useful rule of thumb is - 'if in doubt, leave it out'. It's sort of the punctuation equivalent of the saying 'Better to keep quiet and be thought a fool than to open one's mouth and remove all doubt.'

I can never resist an apostrophe question! Nothing like an apostrophe round during a miserably cold Covid weekend with everlasting rugby on the tele (especially when England are losing).

If you mean the poo of one cockroach:
...the cockroach's faeces

But should there be more than one of the little creatures who have defecated everywhere:
...the cockroaches' faeces

But PLEASE no apostrophe on faeces.

But in any discussion of cockroaches as a species I suppose cockroach faeces is best.

PS I wouldn't recognise the poo of cockroaches - are the droppings visible to the naked eye? Are they distinctive? Do cockroaches actually poo?

PPS I am sure you really know all this, Vizzer - I should have kept my mouth shut.

PPPS Tim is back!

There is an answer to the daftest of questions out there:




But dust mite droppings are the worst - invisible, like the mites, but mite poo causes all manner of unpleasant symptoms in the susceptible. I always thought I was allergic to the creatures themselves, but it apparently is their faeces (ugh) which cause itchy eyes and sneezing.

Well, that's enough nonsense from me today. Could go for a walk now, but it's a wind chill of -5, and I can't be doing with this weird freezing rain - not at all British weather - so perhaps not.

Temperance wrote:

Could go for a walk now, but it's a wind chill of -5, and I can't be doing with this weird freezing rain - not at all British weather - so perhaps not.

Temperance at the other side of the Channel here, bright sun, no wind, now quarter past five PM (four Bitish time)...but still minus 2 C°...tomorrow thaw...but perhaps freezing rain as yours (or is it your's?) then? Just teasing Temp and not worth of me ) ...
Kind regards from Paul.

Temp - my aversion to cockroaches (doesn't everybody have an aversion to them?) stems from my time in Hong Kong when they used to hang around under the sink in the kitchen. I think that they came up the plug hole. The locals said that the roaches themselves were not a problem but make sure that they don't poo on your cutlery and crockery. If you squish them (which of course I did) they said make sure that you clean up the blood and guts, disinfect the area and wash your hands thoroughly afterwards. This just seemed to be telling me what I was inclined to do anyway. Above all, they said, be careful that they don't get into and shit in your water supply. Consequently one got into the habit of 'doing the washing up' both after and before meals. Stamping on and squashing them also became a regular part of household cleaning jobs. You learned to aim just in front of them as the clever little bugs could see your foot coming and would try to get out of the way.       

One evening, however, coming in from work I suddenly spotted an absolutely monstrous-sized roach which had taken up squatter's rights on the edge of the table. I hadn't even had time to switch on the room light, and I was only back-lit by the light from the hallway, when this 4-inch-long freak took off and flew strait at my face as if it were trying to evict me from my own flat. I had to duck to avoid it. Ughh!

Vizzer, I sought for it in Dutch and yes that it was..."kakkerlak"
Already from the childhood on me and my sister made by the parents so afraid that we see "kakkerlakken" as the ultimate stamp on households of "lager allooi" (not so many translations: "of lower quality" and another: "of "lower standard" (I prefer "lower standard" as a better translation)). Especially in the less clean Southern regions as France. And Italy was completely to avoid...I have to say that I never, as I see now the pictures, have seen a cockroach in my life...

Even not in the former Yugoslavia (now the Croatian seaborder) and in a former marriage on journey, hiring there a kind of garage in bricks with a sink to wash you. In that time it was all in German: "Zimmer Frei"...and only at two Deutsch Mark (the equivalent of one Pound nowadays (1.14 Euro) a night...

And our parents made us afraid of the South, but as I now see the advertisements for Dutch cleaners to save you from these dirty beasts, those "Hollanders" aren't that clean anymore as our parents let us believe some seventy years ago...

Kind regards, Paul.

Paul – the cockroach problem is more climatic than anything else. They thrive in warm, damp environments such as to be found in the humid tropics. Granted, they do prefer dirty places with poor sanitation but they can be found in other places too. My flat in Hong Kong, for instance, was brand new with sleek lines, minimalist décor, easy to clean and easy to keep clean. Yet still they came. I think my exterminatory activities must have upset the gods of the cockroach world, or at least their elders, because I got the distinct impression that the brute which lay in wait for me to come home from work so that it could ambush me as soon as I came thru the door had been specifically tasked with sending me a message. All it achieved, however, was to up-the-ante and I merely resolved to redouble my efforts against them.

On a pleasanter note – today is St Valentine’s Day. I’m pretty sure that in the British Isles we are more likely to experience a white Valentine’s Day than a white Christmas. The song ‘White Christmas’ is North American after all. I don’t know what the Meteorological Office stats are on this but I know that the bookies don’t really promote the idea of taking of bets on whether or not there will be snow on St Valentine’s Day as I suspect that the odds are considerable lower.

I'm not really au fait with all the social media platforms that abound nowadays but from Pinterest a link to some boots called "Texas Roach Stompers".  I'd previously seen the shoes that were called 'winklepickers' in the UK called 'roach stompers' by Americans.  https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/195414071318831244/

Looking at Vizzer's post above, no snow yesterday (14th Feb 2021) in my part of the midlands and the ambient temperature was a little warmer than it had been on Friday and Saturday which to me at least felt bitterly cold.  The wind chill factor was in play yesterday and if I went outside I was aware of a cold wind.

Vizzer wrote:

Paul – the cockroach problem is more climatic than anything else. They thrive in warm, damp environments such as to be found in the humid tropics. Granted, they do prefer dirty places with poor sanitation but they can be found in other places too. My flat in Hong Kong, for instance, was brand new with sleek lines, minimalist décor, easy to clean and easy to keep clean. Yet still they came. I think my exterminatory activities must have upset the gods of the cockroach world, or at least their elders, because I got the distinct impression that the brute which lay in wait for me to come home from work so that it could ambush me as soon as I came thru the door had been specifically tasked with sending me a message. All it achieved, however, was to up-the-ante and I merely resolved to redouble my efforts against them.

Vizzer, thanks for your explanation. Yes the best way is perhaps to do the normal necessary cleaning and for the rest neglect them and don't let "them" disturb your life. 

And as I said it to you, never seen a "cockroach", neither in Hongkong where we (partner and me) were two days in 2001.
But yes a citytrip journey Being-Hongkong and in a five star hotel (Chinese stars!) (as you have the Turkish and Egyptian stars), normally you don't expect cockroaches (Temp, why aren't it: "cockroachs"?) 

And yes that entry in Hongkong from the "People's Republic" at the customs...as I guess from that bad experience a lot worser than to enter nowadays Britain since Januar the First...I guess!...And of course those Brits, who want to continental Europe nowadays...

Kind regards, Paul.
 
Edited about Northern-Southern Europe and all.

You're fortunate Paul never to have seen a kakkerlak in real life. That said - my flat in Kennedy Town wasn't 'infested' as such. I'd probably encounter 2 or 3 roaches hanging around the kitchen sink about once a week and maybe one in the bath tub about once a fortnite or so. But often enuff to be alert to the hazards they posed:



The most important thing in that climate was to keep surfaces scrupulously clean, store food securely and carefully dispose of any waste food scraps.

Talking about leftover food - we've had St Valentine's Day, Collop Monday and Shrove Tuesday all in a row this year. We didn't do very well using up our collops, though, as there are steaks, salami and ham still in the fridge and a few eggs too. We did have pancakes today, however, and having tried many of the different accompaniments over the years (lemon juice, caster sugar, ham, mushroom, raspberry jam, peanut butter, honey, banana, cream, blueberries, maple syrup, orange juice, golden syrup, Grand Marnier, Curaçao, Nutella etc) I can't believe that I haven't before tried what we had today - apple juice. Woo hoo! What a taste revelation that was - apple juice on its own or (if you fancy an outrageous sugar rush) apple juice with runny hunny!

It seems that living in Newcastle has some advantage.  I have never seen a cockroach in 64yrs.


 Of course, I might just live at the right end of Toon.

I hope it's okay to wish everyone a happy vernal equinox.  I have my cup of tea near me as I type so I am sort of in the virtual bar.  It's dry here but very overcast i.e. not sunny though yesterday was similar and brightened up later in the day.  The Charles Trenet song Boum always makes me think of spring though I think in the film which is the provenance of the song it was love which was making the singer's heart go 'Boum'.  

Thanks for that LiR. 

Yes - the spring equinox, the Heathen Easter. (Although for astronomers the equinox this year was actually yesterday, 20th March.) I do think that the pagans have basically got it sussed on this. A concise 28-day (4-week) Lent which being a month long is both natural and realistic. The Christians, on the other hand, go in for a '40-day Lent' which is a bit of a swizz really because in reality the Christian Lent is 44 days long if you're Catholic and 46 days long if you're Protestant.

Depending on the year I tend to follow either the Heathen Lent or the Protestant one. This year I'm protestant in that regard which would please my late mother who was protestant. My father was catholic and I have to say that the Catholic tradition of ending Lent at sundown on Maundy Thursday (i.e. over 2 days before Easter Sunday) has always struck me as being a bit of a cop out. Talking about cops, I suppose I should be grateful that I don't follow the Coptic Orthodox Lent which is a whopping 56-days (8-weeks) - i.e. 2 months long!

Have a happy Spring Equinox, LiR, and Viz too, and of course everyone else. I'm glad to hear you've got some good weather chez vous. Here we're battened down under the usual equinoctal gales, with winds up to 120 kph all of yesterday, and they are forecast to continue for the next couple of days too. It is good for drying the washing and for airing the house, but all this wind is playing havoc with my young broad bean plants and early lettuces, and all my little seedlings of tomatoes, aubergines, peppers, courgettes and pumpkins just have to stay sheltering indoors at the moment.

But returning to your comment about Charles Trenet's song 'Boum!' ....

It originally appeared in the film 'La Route Enchantée' starring Charles Trenet, Marguerite Moreno and Julien Carette, which came out on 25 November 1938 - that is two months after the German annexation of Czechoslovakia and the resulting Munich Crisis, and so just eight months or so before the eventual outbreak of war. The film itself is a slightly bizarre, romantic tale about a young man, Jacques (Charles Trenet) who, feeling trapped by a boring homelife dominated by his 'sensible' school-teacher father, leaves his family to go in search of his dreams - which he finds in the person of a strange, slightly dippy young woman who likes to imagine she is living in the Middle Ages. Jacques plays along imagining he is her troubadour, falls in love and eventually, mostly by chance, becomes a famous and successful singer. Seeing his success, his family attempt to get a share of his fame and fortune, but he doesn't really care as he's found the one he loves. And so everyone lives happily ever after.

The film and song were very much a product of their time: an entertaining and harmless escapist fantasy, when France was poised on the brink of chaos. The lyrics of the song are, on the surface at least, joyful, innocent and with a light-hearted silliness. But under the flowery lyrics and imagery I suspect there was, largely unsaid, an underlying narrative about a deeply-troubled and divided France: one that was trying to deal with at least some of its worries simply by ignoring the current harsh realities and instead focusing on love, silliness, une joie de vie, and even unashamedly harking back to an older, long-established, romantically medieval, yet still recognisably typical, French culture de l'amour.

Incidentally the British 1970s award-winning documentary series 'The World at War' used the song to very good effect when they used it to accompany original film footage from the late 1930s of the impressive, but ultimately useless, heavy guns of the French Maginot line firing an ineffectual barrage of blanks - boum, boum, boum, boum - which, since it was before the real shooting war had started was presumably intended to reassure the French public. I doubt the Germans were similarly fooled by such noisy, but effectively redundant, demonstrations.

'Boum!' is one of the few songs that Charles Trenet also recorded in an English version:

While replying to Vizzer, I just thought that I was again too late for a long winding thread that I had already partially prepared and had not yet had time to elaborate further...namely about Jean Bart and the Nine Years War...about a Britain changing sides to hold a balance of power in continental Europe...but the Brits were not that worser than others on the continent as for instance Spain...later extended in the War of Spanish Succession...and yes with that emperor of the HRE of German Nation treating the balance of power...

But good news is that I will have my jab start of April (as risico patient with my donor kidney) and coincidentally the partner too  because of higher age...hurray...I will not start a discussion about Britain in the vaccination campaign and the EU as it is perhaps an endless discussion...especially if one starts about faults...

Greetings to everybody and a good night...

I saw yesterday a reportage in French about the Scottish Peterhead and its fish market. I heard in the report that it has roughly a population of some 22,000...
https://www.arch-henderson.co.uk/site/assets/files/1319/20180618_065331.0x1280.jpg
The picture of the fish market looks so familiar to me as from my childhood time when in it with my father. And fish halls seems to have the same look all over the world. I saw one with my father in Portland Maine US and one in Boulogne France
https://multimedia.europarl.europa.eu/en/infoclip-fish-market-boulogne-sur-mer-eu-uk-negotiations_I200525-V_v
I saw one in Aberdeen...
and of course our own of Ostend in the Fifties in my childhood
https://www.deplate.be/sites/default/files/H_129_VISMIJN_.jpg
 
But back to the Brexit difficulties in Peterhead
The report from minute 41 for MM and if nielsen can catch Arte in Denmark on the computer in German too
https://www.arte.tv/fr/videos/030273-804-A/arte-reportage/

For me it is not so much about the Brexit, but more about the trouble some people have as fish merchants in Peterhead, who have to "undergo" all these difficulties meaning even the loss of their firm...
In the film there is one pro-Boris Johnson, who says that the trouble is only temporary and that it will better after Covid time and with better regulations between the EU and the UK. An opponent says that they are cheated, but this one don't sit down and act as to start an extension of his firm in Boulogne. So he exports to his own firm and avoid that way a lot of red tape and time for the entrance in the EU...
And the problem already mentioned in January...
https://www.scotsman.com/business/brexit-europes-biggest-fish-market-ghost-town-due-brexit-says-industry-head-3106056

I remember (vaguely) the Ewan McColl/Peggy Seeger "radio ballads" from the 1960s.  There was one called Singing The Fishing which chronicled fisher folk following the shoals of herring down the east coast of Scotland/England while the shoals of herring were moving. https://stromnessdragon.wordpress.com/2015/03/08/come-all-you-fisher-lassies/  Here are sisters Ray and Cilla Fisher (Ray sadly is no longer with us - it's coincidence but what an apt surname for singers of this song) singing The Song of The Fish Gutters.  I believe the song was written by Ewan McColl but it's very like a traditional song (to me anyway).  Did fisher folk move with shoals of fish along the coast of Belgium at all, Paul?

In the Zoom meeting of the French conversation group I belong to we were reading an article about how during quarantine people in France have become appreciative of their pavements.  It reminded me that right at the end of my stint at The Natural History Museum in London a project was starting to merge the paving area and the vehicle area on Exhibition Road.  I haven't visited that museum since 2010 so I don't know how that idea worked out.  Has anybody been there (pre-Covid)?  Does anyone know how the system worked in practice?  There was a pedestrian tunnel that could be used. The tunnel did stink sometimes from what I remember.  The staff entrance was on Exhibition Road.  I have a drink beside me at present but it's a soft drink!!!

LadyinRetirement wrote:

I remember (vaguely) the Ewan McColl/Peggy Seeger "radio ballads" from the 1960s.  There was one called Singing The Fishing which chronicled fisher folk following the shoals of herring down the east coast of Scotland/England while the shoals of herring were moving. https://stromnessdragon.wordpress.com/2015/03/08/come-all-you-fisher-lassies/  Here are sisters Ray and Cilla Fisher (Ray sadly is no longer with us - it's coincidence but what an apt surname for singers of this song) singing The Song of The Fish Gutters.  I believe the song was written by Ewan McColl but it's very like a traditional song (to me anyway).  Did fisher folk move with shoals of fish along the coast of Belgium at all, Paul?

Thank you so much LiR for the link you mentioned. It remembers me of old days in the "vismijn" of Ostend. They translate I see now by "fish auction" and perhaps that's also right translation, but in Dutch: fish auction is "visveiling" (a "veiling" as on the "groentenveiling" (vegetable auction), but in my opinion that was one part of the fish market, while there were transfers on the same place between merchants too and there were "warehouses" too (pakhuizen). We hired also one after the death of the former hirer.

In your link I saw some words that are so familiar to me 
as we say the same in dialect "de vis gutten" (to gut the fish) 
and the women followed de "scholen" fish some with a "charabanc"
I see now for the first time in my life that it is in English something like this:
https://dictionary.cambridge.org/dictionary/english/charabanc



while our "char à bancs" pronounced in our Ostend dialect as "sarabang" with three times the clear French "a"...
And it was thrown with horses (all episodes from before my time)
https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Char_%C3%A0_bancs#/media/Fichier:HDHChar-%C3%A0-Bancs.jpg



But back to the women following the harbours where the boats sold their fish...

LiR, the Belgian coast only three harbours for fish (only 66 km coast) and the main is Ostend and then Zeebruges (Nieuport is only a minor one and more local). 
In my childhood (the Fifties) the fishermen of Zeebruges followed  also with their fish, where the highest price was given in the auction and that was Ostend. So the Z-number x (for instance the Z 58) from Zeebrugge went to the harbour of Ostend to unload their fish at 4 or 5 o'clock in the morning and then got with a taxi at home in Zeebruges (some 25 km).

And yes as I read it my parents, especially my mother earned a lot of money by (we say "cleaning" the fish, that means preparing it till there are chunks of fish ready for consumption) cleaning cods (up to 7 kilo)
My mother had a method and a special knife to carve in the bone of the cod and although not a "costeau" (big strong one), she earned a lot as she was paid pro kilo and pro box.
And it were already the more modern boxes as this one:



Unbelievable I don't find anything anymore about the old "benne" (visbenne) (fish bin?) in reed...as on the photo of Ostend that I showed upstream and in the time there were thousands of it and when in the sun even cleaned with soap they had still a special fish   smell...
It is as if they don't exist anymore...unbelievable...I tried with all kind of wordcombinations on google...and "benne" seems to come from French:
https://nl.wiktionary.org/wiki/ben



Not the "routine" by my mother of the ladies of your link gutting in seconds, (but it were only herrings and not cods)...
And thank you again for your link, which was of great interest to me...old memories from childhood...

Kind regards, Paul.

PS: For LiR: I just edited my text as for the weight of cod from 4 to 7:

"And yes as I read it my parents, especially my mother earned a lot of money by (we say "cleaning" the fish, that means preparing it till there are chunks of fish ready for consumption) cleaning cods (up to 7 kilo)
My mother had a method and a special knife to carve in the bone of the cod and although not a "costeau" (big strong one), she earned a lot as she was paid pro kilo and pro box."

As I read now that the Atlantic cod (especially from the "Witte Bank" (now the "German bight" (de duitse bocht) and from the fisherboats we called the "Icelanders") adult one could have a weight of 40 kilos (80 pounds)...I never saw such one in my life...
I just checked on the Ostend fishmarket and the most common one arriving in Ostend is the class 2: 4 à 7 kg...
https://lv.vlaanderen.be/nl/visserij/prijsnoteringen-en-publicaties/prijsnoteringen/2018