PULP Fiction.

Duddleswell Cheese is a creamy white concoction made from sheeps milk. I bought some from the Old Spot Farm shop when I went to collect another batch of gluten free chicken sausages. That’s dinner tonight. Whilst driving I listened to Johnny Vegas on ‘Desert Island Discs’. He described his choice of music as melancholic, and … Read more

Crumbs….

I’ve just driven from Seven Oaks. Dropped the daughter off, she is finally making her own way in London. The operation was on August 7th, so her recovery has been remarkable.
She is a little like me, more like the old git, but the little that is like me is the fighter.
So Dear Wolfie, when you say I can’t have my cake and eat it as well I beg to differ.
I wouldn’t have had such a daft, dramatic, interesting, wonderful life if I had listened to your wisdom. When life takes a curve ball, out of nowhere, when life drops a ton of camel cack on your head, what do you do?
What do you do Wolfie, Donna and Matt. What do you do when your life splits asunder?
What I do is wash off the pooh, wail for at least three days. (although the shock takes three weeks for the Chi to disperse I am told by my very expensive German Acupuncturist), then cash in my pension and book a holiday for me and them in Costa Rica.

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Don’t na do it Donna

Never fails to amaze me how people, who don’t like me, still read my blog, or find the time to track me down. If you dont like me, or disapprove of me Donna and Paul, please refrain from writing to me. I have published all my blogs, warts and all, since I feel it is … Read more

Polishing my balls.

Tom Jones was on ‘Desert Island Discs’. this morning. The old git and I lay in bed and listened as Sir Tom played a selection of music that, although not always my taste, indicated what a brilliant geezer he was.
There’s something about a human being who is focused, has faith, believes in themselves, and inspires others to get on with their dream.
At 70 he is still living his. Of course into every life a little rain must fall. sometimes its torrential, sometimes it spits and sometimes it just drizzles like a soft day in Galway, but The Jones made me take out my umbrella and listen to the pitter patter of my life.

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