Oldddudders

Sherry is still struggling, to the extent that our chat tonight was curtailed due to her lack of voice and excess of coughing. Others have gleefully told her this can last for weeks - hey, that's kind! Meanwhile baby Charlie has a tongue-tie, and son Nick is poised to tell the hospital he wants action on that right now!

Dancing On The Water - Bob James with Joe Sample

The point about socks in sandals is they may stop your feet getting stung by nettles etc., which shoes avoid. To hell with the fashion police.

You forgot to mention left-handed!

What's Going On? - Marvin Gaye

No. Nor does it have wrinkly stockings. Functional might be a kind term.

Morning all I share the increasing concern re Jock. In recent weeks it has been clear that the cancers were closing in, and I bet the medics are busy keeping him going. There may be some respite soon, and we all look forward to more of his amazing fortitude. Sherry is a grandmother again. And may be feeling a bit better, too, judging by the chat we have just had. So her new grandson was born @ 2.21, not very big, and has minor breathing difficulties, which the hospital declares not to be serious, but enough to keep him and new mum in for a few days. Since new mum declined ante-natal classes we think this might just be a good thing! American tourists? Nearly 50 years ago, I was working in the Information Office at Victoria, where tourists were the everyday customer. One engaging colleague - a rather bright Irishman - had a brother living inthe US, and had written to him complaining about sending all these unworldly tourists across. His brother remarked that it was the bright ones who actually found their way to Europe, and what he had to cope with daily was much worse. I hope Sunday is restful for you and yours.

Sherry continues to be well below par, has hardly left her bed today except for loo visits and a bit of food she struggled to eat. Classic flu, really. Worse news from my brother with the brain tumour. I had - two weeks ago - emailed both the twins to say we would be about in their locale late April or early May and when would be a good day to be visiting. Silence. So today I repeated the message, and sure enough, the other brother comes back saying the chemo etc hasn't really done the trick and further measures will be required. A visit now seems really urgent, frankly. There are times when I feel a significant number of people around me have failed to get their expected longevity - far more than average. Depressing. EDIT : Sorry everyone, I didn't know Sherry was going to post, too!

Words of a Mountain - Wally Badarou

Do I recall that G.R.Hannan's County Donegal layout in the late '50s/early '60s was 5.5 mm scale?

Lighting is everything - these pics have a lot of extra vibrancy. Excellent stuff.

Didn't someone describe Glenda Jackson as having "the face that launched a thousand dredgers"?

Wild Wind - John Leyton

Nice of folk to think of Sherry, thanks. In the small hours she found her temperature was nearly 39, which is a bit high, but things are slightly more comfy now, and she's managed to eat something. A half-hour chat just now was rewarding for us both.

You all know the tune, but have never heard it like this. Gorgeous. https://youtu.be/-P9rqz-wK3o?list=FLb4v

Coronation Street, Pete.

Evenin' all I have been a bit dilatory over the last couple of days, but after - hopefully - reading nearly everything I think I have a position statement. A post from Debs was particularly nice to find. First of all condolences to Grandadbob's lady friend - losing hubby and being left with two small bambini is nearly as bad as it gets, I'm sure. That said, when my mate (and briefly boyfriend of Sherry) Pete died at 26, his widow described their very young second child as her bouncing ball, giving her a focus to make her get on with life. Last week, when Sherry and I should have been gently winding down before her departure for home, was largely taken up with the repercussions of Alison's admission to Intensive Care on Tuesday morning after a suspected heart attack. She was home - no fault found, as they say - by lunchtime Friday, and within 36 hours was canoodling with a new-ish boyfriend. Four days later, when I met him briefly, he was looking a bit tired before staggering out to his car and making the three plus hour drive back to his farm in the Vendée. He is back with Alison tonight, having negotiated with his two eldest kids that they could fend for themselves on a weekend when he is rostered to be their guardian. They are 28 and 18! And where does his ex their mum live? Across the road from their farmhouse! FFS....... Meanwhile, some time back Alison had noted a flat tyre on the lawn-tractor. Her then volunteer - people who come to stay and help on the land for subsistence only (they must be mad/desperate) - a Brazilian named André, took the wheel off. Alison recently got the puncture fixed, but no sign of the wheelnut. Actually it's a bolt, so we took another one off and went to the local hardware store to find a duplicate. The pitch was wrong but we managed one about the right length. So in the hissing rain today I forced the newcomer into position with my ratchet socket wrench. Except that this newly-repaired tyre is already flat.... I have used those aerosol canister mousse inflater thingies for years on my lawn-tractor, but some bozo had advised Alison against it. Sigh. So more time in the rain using my 12v inflator thingie to get some semblance of pressure. And of course we tend not to mow very wet grass. I wonder how much pressure will be left when it dries out? Sherry is ailing. She has some flu-like virus and is truly under the weather, not having felt so ill, she tells me, since she had shingles (again) a few years back. Tonight she had a commitment to be a chaperone at the theatre for some under-age performers at a dress-rehearsal. On arriving, feeling like death warmed up, it appeared she was double-booked, so could go home again..... I hope your weekend happens in an orderly fashion, and hearing from Jock would be great for us all. .

I am sure I speak for others, Mick, when I say we don't think you are a git.

Hey baby - Bruce Chanel [interested to note Matt Helm has changed from a Rio Grande FT to a Burlington F3A, built in 10/47. Still very tasty!]

Certainly at the time the performance over the hills was a matter for great joy in the enthusiast press.

Not quite brand spanking new. Seaton was 26 months old by the time she was renumbered into the BR sequence in May 1948. But a great pic for all that.

My kitchen has little natural light, so a few years back I got a tube light put up in place of the ordinary bulb. Today I found the tube wouldn't start, so having measured it I went off to the railway barn to pinch one from there. Got the steps out of the loo. Undid the 8 clips, removed the diffuser, ditto the tube, replaced it and put the diffuser and 8 clips back on. Same result - no start! Bums! Undid the clips, took the tube out. Went back to the railway barn and using pliers, managed to remove the starter from the same fitting. Fitting it was easier, tube back in, 8 clips secured on diffuser - success! And then I was able to start cooking the chicken arrabbiata. Life can be tough.

And there was one at Guildford for quite some time, which is not close to the briny - albeit there was a canal not far away!

Copied from a globetrotting acquaintance on Facebook : "Nightlife in Hanoi – yesterday I tried to re-visit my former favorite hangouts: „Spotted Cow“, „Relax Bar“, „New century“ – all gone! Even my absolute favorite is gone – there once was a bar where you could party into the wee hours, at least if there was no police crack-down. The name was, no joke, “Apocalypse Now”. The place was painted in black and the DJ was sitting in the remains of the canopy of a shot-down US Huey-Army-Helicopter doing the turntables." Some of us don't know we're born!

Sadly, Rick, all the Consulates have had the work taken away as far as I can see. Hence my last one was done in Paris, but alas no more.