I can’t believe what I have just heard. Maybe writing on here will help me to vent my anger.
Over a week ago my auntie died in the UK. She was 95 and had a stroke a few months ago, as a result of which she was transferred from her home of 60 odd years to an old people’s home near her birthplace of Lowestoft. We were never very close due to distance but I did have a soft spot for her as she was a loving gently person, with a great lust for life. However, at 95 the loss is not so painful as she had a wonderful life. (Her husband only died a couple of years ago)
The funeral will be in January some time. This will be over a month after her death. When I enquired why the delay I was told that her doctor (the one that saw her in the home) is now on holiday until the new year and all other doctors at the practice refuse to sign the death certificate as she was not their patient.
The next time someone tells me that I should be proud of the NHS they will receive a punch on the nose.
It’s the shortest day now. So the folk of the Scandinavian diaspora are celebrating Winter with traditional acts of homage. Our nisse is already ensconced under the thatch, awaiting his plate of yuletide fare which the children will leave for him this evening. They are very brave to climb up into the spidery loft but are spurred on by the memory that last year the food had gone in a couple of days. More modern god-botherers have hijacked the occasion and renamed it the fourth Sunday in Advent, but they are forgiven, because the four candles make a marvellous decoration. Read more…
At breakfast this morning my wife said she was leaving me because of my obsession with twitter.
I nearly choked on my #Brown
Yes, Barry Manilow serenaded her but the other one, of Lord Astor fame in the ’60s, has just died, aged 70.
She always denied selling the same services as her flat-mate, Christine, of Profumo fame. And she was brave enough to insist in court that Astor seduced her, not vice versa. He denied it.
‘Well, he would wouldn’t he?’ Immortal words.
I quite like Luxembourg’s airport. It is small but incredibly efficient. Perhaps the longest that I have ever had to wait to clear security was 5 minutes. More often than not, my suitcases are on the belt before I arrive. While not especially “friendly”, Luxembourgers rarely are, the staff do their jobs efficiently and there are rarely difficulties. Arguably the only really “negative” thing about the airport is that there is only a limited choice of carriers. Usually, this is not a problem. Luxembourg Airlines is one of the nicer regional airlines. Usually priced competitively, they provide an excellent product to customers. This time, however, I made the slight error of choosing to take a different airline because of better flight times. That is, I flew with KLM via Amsterdam to Copenhagen. Read more…
Even though all our cherished chefs de cuisine made their puds months ago, I thought Matt’s advice might come in handy for some.
And Mac offers another tasty reminder:
Have you been eating beans again?
More jam tomorrow from the PR pros of the world’s governments. They have now agreed to agree again in Paris next year. That’s progress – not.
It’s a bad bout of sciatica – probably the worst man-strain ever presented – rendering both of us grumpy and immobile.
Why am I burdening you with this news, cherished reader? Because we’re seeking both sympathy and palliative ideas, if you have a festive moment to spare.
Thank you. 😣
Christmas for Monty and Robin
(With apologies to Amarinta)
And while the critters were all hob-nobbin';
The field mice and the red-breast robin,
A squeal went up, ‘what, pray, was that?
‘I think it is the farmyard cat.’
‘Oh my sweet holy Jesus
I think she means to come and seize us.’ Read more…