Wednesday, July 09, 2008

Dull then wet - Managed shopping

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It's always possible to find a snap, to show what you've been up to. So this is another view of Y' herbaceous border outside the big-room window. I ventured no further than the porch due to it pouring with rain and me being in my underpants and dressing-gown. The light wasn't good but here you go.

While I was speaking to Reg a few minutes ago I suggested a monthly competition title "Within 50 yards" which would tax folk's ingenuity and be interesting. Perhaps they have previously done it though.

Never a need to be short of a good photograph anyway. This magnificent portrait of Nicole Kidman by Annie Leibowitz was in my ArtDaily Newspaper yesterday as it is appearing in an Exhibition in the Maison Européenne de la Photographie. As it's on the net, courtesy of Vogue, I guess it's OK to blog it.

Whenever I see this superb example of 21st Century photography I wonder what a Camera Club judge would make of it. Assuming of course that it wasn't of Nicole Kidman, and he didn't know who the photographer was. He would want all that unnecessary clutter cropping from the sides for a start - the subject should have been looking into the picture not out of it - I could go on....... He would no doubt dismiss it as a 'record shot' ... But it jumps off the page and hits you.

We managed a shopping jaunt to Hucknall Tesco but I'd had enough by the time we got home. I was grumbling about a 'bogof' of 2 Melons for £2.50p but we had half of one as a starter and the quality was superb. Somebody once suggested a tip of pressing the stalk end in gently and sniff it. If it's fully ripe you will know. I did that with both and they are at their peak.

On my comparatively new bedroom digital radio there is a USB port. So, while at Tesco I bought a new 1GB memory-stick (all my existing ones have snaps on) and downloaded a few BBC Podcasts onto it. Stuck it in and it works perfectly. So if, in the middle of the night, the radio content is a little lightweight I've got plenty to listen to and catch up on.

Picture 3 is just a 'how to' for folks who are having difficulty accessing other people's blog-comments.

I hope this 'screen capture' of a blog-page is self- explanatory and I have included it because, from David's comment, I suspect he hadn't read Bungus's or AnonymousRob's.

And although Helen C did have trouble with it, I know she is up to speed now. All we need is a 'Helen Comment' that would be nice.

Comments ..... David ... I think that between them Bungus and AnonymousRob have offered suggestions for most of the 'family words'. I personally am not happy with 'roast lamb' or 'indefatigable sheep' for 'Ramstamin' though. Perhaps a little more could be disclosed please David.

Bungus ...... I like the sound of 'another great artist or composer or author' who worked from his bed. And he wasn't one of your forefathers, he was my second-cousin twice removed, Bernard Bedwelty McMarsden who was the single handed Sheriff of a small 'Edge of the Plains' town in Minnesota with a population of 435. He had two able-bodied deputies who did his bidding. He wrote poetry and 1,500 word essays in his spare time.

Your advice to Rob is sound. I've found that both 'reds' and 'whites' are OK under the bed but every so often you need to check they haven't started sprouting.

Reg ...... Glad you and Mike managed to get out. The derelict cottage sounds interesting and I would like to visit one day.

Nice Tommy Cooper joke and your telephone call bit about the memorabilia was fascinating.

I'm not completely anti the barrack-room principle in Hospitals. I was happy enough with it when I did my National Service but I guess it depends on the company and whether or not you feel up to it. Your last session sounds good fun. Once while on an early holiday in Jersey ((February) where everything seemed to be shut, we were rescued by 30 West Indian bus drivers from Hackney who were holidaying in the same hotel. We had a great time !

Jill ...... you have indeed been lucky that your Golden Anniversary roses have actually produced flowers this first season.

Lucky you with your Wrens. Occasionally we see one but they are so furtive I've never been anywhere near getting a snap.

Tough on your friend's visit to The Palace for the Garden Party in that weather. Dress was easy for me, I went in uniform. You are quite right in assuming that the Queen wouldn't invite her in. When we went, we wondered if we were supposed to invite her back for tea at our house in a couple of months?

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Quotation time ....... Another Sam Goldwyn gem >

"[A movie] should start with an earthquake and build to a climax"




3 comments:

Anonymous said...

When you say Bernard Bedwelty was single handed, was it right or left? Do you have any samples of his poetry? At twice removed he could well have caught the last days of the eastern fringe of the Wild West.

Jill:
RG has nailed the essential requirement for enjoying hospital rather than just putting up with it, ie, that you shouldn't’t feel ill. Which is why Surgical wards (largely full of motorbike accidents) are generally (but not always) preferable to Medical – once people get over their operations they are back in a cruder version of the real world. But as soon as some people feel a bit better (eg, RG and Sandra) they want to get home and miss all the fun.

We seem to always have one Wren – elusive but seen every week or so.

No sign of rain here yesterday until a few spots about half past four. Then after five it came down steadily for several hours. Apparently the weather got delayed on its way north; British Rail?
I just hope that it improves before Sandra’s group goes to their Palace Garden Party in 12 days time.

I watched Bone-Kickers and have already forgotten what it was about. Oh, now I remember, it was sub Harrison Ford stuff.

I enjoyed The Culture show.
Although his father was an arrogant sod, I am quite getting to like the quiff man – anyone who isn’t a Sting fan can’t be all bad even if he does like some weird films.

Reg:
Your hospital story demonstrates exactly what I meant. Lots of humour; much of it graveyard (and mostly unrepeatable in polite company).

A young man, only in his 20s, married with a child. He is dying of cancer.
At breakfast the nurse says “You should try eating something, Mr Perkins.”
“Righto, nurse,” he replies, “I’ll have three cornflakes. With just a teaspoonful of milk and a tiny bit of sugar, please. “
The nurse dutifully counts them out into a bowl.

And one poor old fellow, very poorly, had been fed through a nose tube for a fortnight.
The surgeon came on his rounds.
“Do you ever feel hungry?”
“Hungry?” said the old man, “Hungry? I could eat a bloody raw monkey.”

The next Sunday morning.
“Can anyone play the piano?” asks the minister. No reply.
“Come on; we need somebody to play the piano for the hymns.”
I had not played for 12 years or so and it entailed sight reading. But I volunteered.
I managed the first two hymns without too much trouble but the third one, full of dissonance, sounded unlike any tune I had ever heard. I struggled on and out of the corner of my eye saw the curtains being drawn around the old man. When I reached the end of the piece I realised that the music had five flats and I had been playing it natural.
I cannot say that is what finally did for him but it can’t have helped.

Which reminds me; Tommy Cooper:
‘So I started playing the piano and this elephant burst into tears,
I said "do you recognise the tune?",
he said "I recognise the ivory".

So I said to this train driver "I want to go to
Paris".
He said "Eurostar?".
I said, "I've been on telly but I'm no Dean Martin".’

So I said to the gym instructor "Can you teach me to do the splits?".
He said "How flexible are you?".
I said "I can't make Tuesdays".

Anonymous said...

The photo of Nicole Kidman is stunning but it must be hard to produce a bad photograph of her, though I guess someone in a camera club somewhere could do it. Maybe one of us should print it off and enter it in a club competition next season just to see what the judge says. On second thoughts, maybe not, it'd be more silly than laughable.

What a good idea to tax folk's ingenuity, it could lead to a reduction in the price of fuel. Did anyone see the programme on how to run a diesel engine on used chip fat? Apparently, it's catching on and quite legal as long as you declare it to the government and pay the tax. I think the tax is substantially less than on 'normal' diesel.

2 melons for £2.50, eh? I bet you don't get many of them to the pound.

I remember something about reds under the bed in the Thatcher years. I wanted to be one but there wasn't enough room under my bed. Dry, crisp whites are lovely when well-chilled; my favourite is probably Chablis or Pouilly Fuisse.

Am I right in thinking that Surgical Wards are full of motorbike accidents because the tyres can't get a grip on the floors and the beds are in the way? I'm surprised hospitals let the bikes in in the first place. Next thing we know the meedja will be complaining about the BSA superbug.

What was this piece of music with five flats? Are there any more like that? I heard on the radio this morning some government minister whose job it is to get more houses built. Maybe she would be interested in ensuring the flats are available to first time buyers.

Rob

Anonymous said...

I was surprised at the item on last night's 'news' because I know 3 people well who have been running their vehicles on chip fat for months (mixed with a bit of diesel). Two of them buy it from supermarkets, the other has a deal with a local school (who otherwise have to pay to have it removed).
I understand that tax is only payable after one has used 25,000 litres in a year. Who checks?

I rather like the Italian white that begins with 'f' - Frascati. And most other Italian wines - perhaps because I have catholic tastes? An arab I worked with in Tripoli thought my name was Pope (Bob). Like a true Muslim he didn't drink but he used to bring me the local aniseed flavoured hooch made from dates (9d for a small brown bottle with grooves down the sides). And, like several other of the workers, he sent me Christmas cards. There was never any conflict over religion (it may have helped that I didn't have one).
When we were given our name tags we were told to stamp our religion (C of E in most cases) on them. I asked the sergeant what to do.
"Why?"
"Because I'm an agnostic, sergeant."
"What's that mean?"
"I'm not a Christian, sergeant."
"WHAT?"
It was obvious from the way he spoke that he regarded Jews etc as another variety of Christian. I suspect ther wre no Muslims in the army at that time but there must have been a few Hindus and Sikhs. I just put a hyphen.

The 'red' I remember was 'Red' Robbo; a trade union leader at Longbridge, regarded as a significant menace to the system.

I like the idea of the BSA superbug but is it wheelie true?
One chap in Norwich Plastics Ward had been tootling along when an elderly lady drove out of her drive in front of him and his knee went through her headlight. He was taken to hospital but sent straight home (only to be taken back twice for 2 months each time for remedial surgery). Two nights later the old lady came round to see him to ask if he was going to pay for a new headlamp. A farmworker, the only way to better himself was to get a job at Campbells canneryat King's Lynn.
"Have you any experience of machinerey?" he was asked at interview.
"Nearest I've come to machinery be a shit shovel," he replied.

Re the 5 flats and first time buyers: it's for sure the old man bought it.