….the royal families in London, Madrid and Copenhagen.
You all know of the goings on in the Spanish and American courts which allegedly implicate the Houses of Bourbon and Windsor, both suggesting a lack of awareness of dignity, duty and accountability.
And today the Crown Prince here is being pilloried for his own disregard of the royal code. Twice during the weekend when the bridge over the Great Belt was closed owing to the persistent storms, he chose to drive over. Just him, no security – while thousands of other motorists had to wait or find other routes.
Nice job, eh?
I heard this story when I was a lad from my father and grandfather; no mention of it was ever made in school.
The geezer in the muddy boots is Dr. Orville Ward Owen a medical doctor from Detroit, the date is May 1911, the place is close to the low tide mark of the River Wye in the shadow of the walls of Chepstow Castle.
What led the man to this place was never explained to me back then, although what he sought was well known to my relatives, and their view was that he was wasting his time and money. He made several visits, one lasting longer than six months. In all twelve or fourteen shafts were driven into the river bottom, some deeper than twenty feet. All he found were some heavy timbers that were the remains of a Roman landing stage, these were not what he was looking for.
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. 😣
So many sportsfolk on my telly touch the ground, kiss their fingers and cross themselves as they reach the pitch/course/court or wha’ever. Then – if they score/win/get lucky – they point to heaven all over again.
So presumably their deity likes to be congratulated for supporting their holy efforts but is totally uninterested in failure, the more common event during any sport?
Now to my mind this practice demonstrates that the deity concerned is not an equal opportunity kinda deity but subscribes only to the Daily Mail. Only call if you have made it!
I really don’t mind. Do you?
Milly kindly gave Auntie his speech so that we can all admire him in anticipation – not.
He is so totally screwed by the English Question that he’s doing a Bliar, fondly believing anybody buys it any more.
10 year plan? In his dreams.
Just browsing. F1 practice. A tweet from the inimitable, Ron’s best mate, JP and bar – fanfare! Phil Slocombe, late of Costa del Sol, China and Chester!
Has he reappeared at the Big House, one wonders?
Backside didn’t mind the damned Scotties playing around with their faux-historical independence, all kilt and no knickers. But now it’s serious. My (not their) beloved Pound is taking a serious hit, owing to their ridiculous fantasy. Down 1% today – forecast to hit minus 5% if the yes mob win. And that’s my pensions which have appreciated very usefully (accounting expression) since the Good Ship GB has sailed out of recession. All to be squandered by Fatty and the Scotchmen. So bugger their pancakes, their mist, their hooch and their baby blue eyes. May their ginger progeny run out of oil and get stuck with the Euro. Which will definitely contribute to their mutual demise.
The dour Scotsman reports that wee Alba will be welcome in NATO.
That means that Fatty will have to muster a militia.
Any idea who’ll do that for him?
A quarter of non-Scottish Brits ‘don’t know’ whether they approve of Scottish independence or not. Three-quarters of those with an opinion are against it. Ah yes, you ask, but why?
Well, here’s my short list of possibilities:
* Scots should get out more
* Who is that fat git?
* Look at what happened to the Picts
* I like Billy Connolly and Rod Stewart
* Princess Royal for Queen of Alba or forget it!
What say you, O cherished wise ones?