The delights of being on holiday include the chance to listen to Test Match Special.
I had to chuckle at Blowers and Boycott – strange bedfellows indeed. Two that stand out from yesterday’s offering were: “He’s batting with a stick of celery!” and “Flock of pigeons looking for something to eat. Haven’t seen many pigeons here at Cardiff.” Then they asked some poor devil to look up the last team to get to 400 without anyone scoring more than 70. (For the record, I think they discovered it was New Zealand in 1992).
I went to Chedworth Roman villa the other day. It has special resonance for me because as some of you know, one of my ancestors discovered the site while he was out rabbiting (he was a gamekeeper in the service of Lord Muck of somewhere). They’ve built a mini theatre with one of those wobbly films on a loop to detail the history, and the old boy appears as a Victorian cartoon figure in a deer stalker and handlebar moustache. It was very hard to resist to temptation to turn round to the assembled school kids, point and say: “That’s my great, great grandad that is.”
I’m pleased to say that it belongs to the National Trust… and well worth a visit. Of course, with all those mosaics on show, er, I found the flora more photogenic. What intrigued me most was a swallow’s nest on the floor of a Roman bath but there wasn’t enough light to get a good shot. Snaps in the usual place.
Finally getting some time off so I’m hoping to see a few more of you on the trail or on the beach. Bring it on.
Ian very kindly took me to a secret location (OK, his office lawn) to see the bee orchids. They are uncanny plants – something quite special. Snaps next door. Those of you who who like the technical stuff might be interested to know that I had to whack the ISO setting way up to 1600. The evening sun had almost gone but I wanted to avoid a harsh flash – a grainy picture is the price you pay (bloody physics, it’s so uncompromising).
Off in search of dyer’s greenweed next week (unless I get a better offer).
I was going to offer to to sell my car to Fred the Shed but I don’t suppose he can afford rash purchases now that he’s given up part of his pension deal. How’s he going to manage?
Now I’m not sure what to do with my old beast. Hardly a day goes by when there isn’t a new rumble, whine, graunch or squeak. Do I take the the king’s shilling and cube it or give it away and scratch around Arthur Daley’s?
Scrappage or package? What d’you reckon?
PS. I’ve added Matt’s new website to the blogroll… home-made in Sutton, and really rather swish: Matt’s site here
…. well OK two of you. I’ve been busy like hell, honest.
I too am pleased Denmark are doing well. Who could forget the night of that Euro triumph in the Bricklayer’s Arms (alas, now a block of flats). I have fond memories of that hostelry.
Here’s a talking point for you though. I enjoyed seeing us put six past Andorra – sort of. Now normally I subscribe to the Brit cultural tendency of supporting the underdog and celebrating the gems that lie in diversity. Er, except when it comes to bloody Andorra. What a waste of time. Do they deserve to compete with the larger footballing nations? Of course. Should they be allowed to mix it in the World Cup qualifiers? Sure, why not. Do we love an upset? Absolutely – as long as it’s not us being embarrassed.
But what the hell is the point of staying in your own half defending for 90 minutes and then kicking the ball away when the opposition accidentally loses possession? I think we should refuse to play these principalities until they publicly declare and promise that they really will endeavour to score a goal. If they aren’t going to make a decent fist of it I don’t think we should bother either.
Seriously though, I think Robert Green touched the ball twice last night, and one of those was a back pass. Fifa really needs to have a look at it.
Late breaking news: The pouting peacock is off to Real Madrid for 80 million smackers. Cheerio, don’t slam the door on your way out.
Probably worth mentioning that And and myself stumbled into a few notables including a raft of green-winged orchids somewhere in Herefordshire. I’m a bit reluctant to say where in case some dork goes and picks them but if one of Bloggledebook’s loyal readers wants a glimpse then just mail me and I’ll give you the co-ordinates.
I’m hoping to get some time off over the summer and already looking forward to outdoor pub sessions with you all.
…will be resumed as soon as some sort of normality returns.
Apologies for the lack of updates but there hasn’t been very much good news to report. And then United got relegated so the sherry has been put away for another year.
It’s proving to be a lovely spring, so I won’t mention that the two previous lovely springs led to continuous downpours over the summer, and promise to get out and take some fresh pictures.
If you have some bright, cheerful, positive news please file in the comments box and we’ll see if we can get some happy energy flowing again.
Finished reading the Sunday papers tonight and came to the conclusion it would be much better to stay in bed tomorrow – and for every other day after it.
Found this in a dentist’s waiting room – which took my mind off things.
I rest my case m’Lud.
Joking aside, I love eccentrics. I’m a self-confessed nature geek, I was the office internet bore for many years and have several anoraks in my collection.
As Michael Palin once said to me (he said, shamelessly name-dropping) the nerds stop the world from fast-forwarding.
Talking of nerds, does anyone actually use an RSS feed of this blog so you know when it’s been updated? The stats suggest some of you do. Anyone?
Apparently Bill Oddie is unwell and won’t be able to host Springwatch this year. Ah well, never mind.
Whilst we’re on Celebs, I was reminded of another Clarkson classic when it was announced that Macca and Ringo are due to perform at some charity bash in the US. In the past, JC has suggested that Pete Townshend and Roger Daltrey should get together with the remnants of the Fab Four (that’ll be the Fab Two) and call themselves The Whootles.
Maybe Bruce Dickinson could go on stage with Robert Plant to forge either an Iron Zeppelin or a Led Maiden. Or perhaps Seasick Steve could join forces with Rory Storm’s Hurricanes to form an Ill Wind.
I recently saw a poster in London for a band called the Official Secrets Act – which I thought was class. And who could forget Crispy Ambulance?
Pile in with your own. (That’s an invitation, not the name of a band).
PS: Anyone tweating and twittering yet? It’s all the rage y’know.
I thought you might like to vent your spleen – and save me doing it for a change.
So here’s a multiple choice scenario allowing you to express your democratic right to an opinion about the former boss of RBS, Fred Goodwin. (Sorry, that’s Sir Fred to you).
Found this in a dentist’s waiting room – which took my mind off things. 
