Imagine I’m a ‘political’ migrant from outside the United States of Europe. I get my feet on USE soil in Greece by hook or by crook and then start my trek towards the promised lands in the north. I jump ship from Greece and get stopped in Italy. Italy refuses me entry.
OK so far? No. Italy has now infringed my yooman rites and has to give me asylum if I request it. As long as I am in transit to my chosen destination, I can continue my odyssey, even if I break the law as I go.
So that’s how we get so many wannabees here. Madness? Definitely
I’m reading Alms for Oblivion again and this is an excerpt from the second book1 ‘Sound The Retreat’. I was so impressed that in bed last night I read it aloud to Mrs J.
1 In story chronology – the books were published in a different order.
I sometimes think of writing, a couple of my neighbours have (and it’s rubbish); then I read something like this and decide not to bother.
Muscateer, Earl of: son of Lord and Lady Canteloupe q.v.; an
officer cadet at the O.T.S., Bangalore, 1945-6 (R)- ✝ 1946
And then one evening a few days later they heard that Muscateer was dead.
‘Dead, sir? Dead of jaundicel’
‘They say he had a dodgy liver,’ Captain Detterling said.
‘Funny, that. His old governor’s is made of brass.’
The feeling down here (and I spoke to a fair cross section of people yesterday) was one of relief that any sentence was not wholly suspended and that it wasn’t long enough!
But that’s ‘justice’ these days, one has to accept that times have changed and move on.
Whilst absent I built a shed for Mrs J for her gardening stuff which frees up space in my workshop. She was very fussy about it ( colour, proper windows, stable door etc ). As you can see it is already pretty full.
Dryden wrote that about ‘dance’. And I know from bitter experience that the world is divided into dancers and the rest.
From my earliest youth my feet never really managed to get the messages from my brain or my spirit or wha’ever and imitate the silky moves I saw others executing so perfectly. Not ballroom, not square, not country, not jive! Not no how!
So many poetic occasions slipped from my grasp to end in flat-footed, prosaic words of apology.
I’ll bet there are some real Freds and Gingers amongst us too. Dammit!
These little gems will cheer up a Monday morning!
Is this not a wonderful photo? I just had to share.
It was on the front page of one of my Sunday reads today, it was accompanied by an article explaining that Kruger are relocating over a thousand rhino from ‘high risk’ areas (read close to Mozambique border) to other parts of the park, other parts of the country and even other countries (Botswana and Namibia were mentioned.) Good luck to them.
There was more good news on my 1 o’clock news bulletin. Read more…
Coventry Rugby Club never took to the professsional game – probably because its former illustrious status, established over 130 years, never attracted big money, either from investors or fans. But now the Big Time is returning to the city in the shape of Wasps who will be based at the Ricoh Stadium; so rugby fans will be able to enjoy top games without having to defect to Leicester, Coventry’s bitter rivals of old or Northampton, the newbies down the road.
Here’s what the wise McGeechan has to say: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/sport/rugbyunion/premiership/11156405/Wasps-move-to-Coventry-will-upset-many-but-it-is-the-only-way-for-the-club-to-survive.html
Now to decide how to cook them, I’ll probably light a fire and braai them, any suggestions?
We call them crayfish, you?