A Husband takes his wife to play her first game of golf. Continue reading “Golf story…”
Category: General
Here we are again
Trooping the Colour – Scottish version
I’m sitting watching the Trooping of the Colour ceremony. This year the colour being trooped is that of the Scots Guards, complete with their pipes and drums in Royal Stewart tartan. We’ve already had arrangements of two poems by Robert Burns: ” My love is like a red, red rose “and then “Ye banks and braes o’ bonnie Doon”. As one of the pipers commented, when a Scot hears the pipes he/she always thinks of “home”. The quick march was a composition entitled “The Glaswegians” incorporating that well known song “I belong to Glasgow”. Yes, I did sing along.
It was interesting to watch Clare Balding “interviewing” the drum horses, who had had a bath and shampoo first thing this morning. The third drum horse, who is apparently the biggest horse in Britain at 20 hands, is still too young for such ceremonial occasions as he has not completed his training.
It really is a magnificent spectacle, even though of relatively recent origin, having been started by Edward VII. We’ve just had “Men of Harlech” for the Welsh Guards and there are four Irish pipers in with the Scots, so it is a spectacular celebration of the whole UK.
Trooping the Colour
Mornin’ all. I have just come in from the garden and am watching an incredible display of ceremonial pomp and military precision by fighting troops who have lost colleagues in Afghanistan and Iraq. It is Her Majesty’s official birthday, so will all the republicans please go and hide in a corner until it is over?
OZ
Protected: Bliz-Cry ‘Havoc’
Mock Orange
Thoughts on a Friday night:
With a screen name that’s short for Pseudonym the name ‘Mock’ Orange appeals to me. (Philadelphus) I like the deep green leaves against the white flowers. Lovely.
New Research on the Lochnagar crater
There is a very interesting article on the BBC magazine about some World War I tunnels and the miners who dug them. Apparently the owners of the land in the north of France have now given permission for research work to be carried out. I have seen the Lochnagar crater and knew that some British soldiers had been buried there when the explosion was set off. I didn’t know all of the other details, such as the fact that British miners were brought from their collieries to do the work and to live in the tunnels while they did so. Having been through the tunnels at Vimy and knowing that the troops had to spend time in them before the assault, I cannot imagine having to spend days and days in them. It will be very interesting to see what the historians find near La Boisselle. Bodies will be removed for reburial in one of the Commonwealth War Graves Commission’s cemeteries. There is no shortage of them nearby.
Is your local council ready?
A letter was sent to Leicester council asking about their readiness for a Zombie attack. Now I am worried that a council as large as Leicester is not making provisions for Zombie attacks, after all Zombies are a serious problem around here.
They let these people vote?
The best Zombies produced “She’s not there” and the lead singer was Rod Argent.
‘An’ forward, tho’ I canna see, I guess an’ fear!’
In 1984, I moved to where I still live. At the foot of the hill is a bowling green. Pleasant enough but meant nothing at all to me at the time.
Then, one of my colleagues at work explained that I could fast track membership because I lived within the boundaries of the Trust which owned the club. So, I joined for next to nothing and because the drink was incredibly cheap. I am, after all, a Jock. Continue reading “‘An’ forward, tho’ I canna see, I guess an’ fear!’”
A New Contest? – Creative uses for Corn Cobs
Well, even the natives looked a little askance at this item in our local paper today.

After a strenuous session of Corn Holeing (sp) on a hot spring day, I would say refreshments are certainly called for.
Well, what is it? A caption or two could help, or a creative description of the rules for the contest, in terms designed not to offend the delicate sensibilities of the Charioteers (or as suitable for mixed company, as my mother used to say).
No prizes for this, just the smug satisfaction of knowing what the country folks get up to on a Saturday afternoon.


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