It’s the peak of crabbing season here and this is all about crabs and crabbing. I am told that when get on a subject that interests me I often have to be brought up sharply with a loud “Shut up man! You’re boring people”. So don’t say you were not warned.
The crabs in question are the Atlantic Blue Crab, more specifically those that thrive in what H. L. Mencken (one of my favorite drunks) called “that great protein factory, Chesapeake Bay”.
So now he has 16 months to grow it back to a foppish length and perfect his poetry reading skills, which he can deliver to a captive audience. Plenty enough time to commit The Ballad Of Reading Gaol to memory.
” I wasn’t there that morning, when my father passed away, I didn’t get to tell him all the things I had to say…. I just wish I could have told him in the living years “
Saw this on my way back from breakfast yesterday.
It’s a local Amish farm, quite a good selection of fresh stuff, sorry about the wheelie bin, I did not want to disturb it.
Continue reading “Local Produce Picture Quiz”
The USA is about to screw us again. Continue reading “It Looks Like…..”
I was moved to paint my shed today, I know not why, idly surfing the net this morning I was overcome with an irresistible artistic urge to paint my smallest shed.
The smallest shed was acquired back at the end of last year when I was summarily evicted from the then exiting smallest shed (now the second smallest) together with my definitive collection of gasoline powered tools, THAT small shed has become a sort of shrine to the garden gods, odd potions, pots, bags of expensive dirt (sorry-potting soil) and chemicals mingling with the usual collection of hand tools, which inexplicably were allowed to remain.
Yes, that is a small refrigerator on the right, it holds that vital accompaniment to serious gardening , cold beer.
Continue reading “I Decided to Paint my Smallest Shed Today.”
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.
It wasn’t supposed to take place at all this year but the great Brockworth tradition of rolling a cheese down a 1 in 2 hill and then running after it, survives.
It survives the massive over-hyping of it and the visiting crowds from all over the country and abroad that caused such chaos in 2009 that it’s whole existence was called into question. Continue reading “Rollin’ rollin’ rollin’, keep those cheeses rolling…”
Boadicea's Chariot 
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