tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91010418743220308002024-02-22T17:26:18.219+00:00Pebbles in the SeaIt seems to me that blogging is about as useful a way of passing the time as tossing pebbles into the sea, so for what it's worth - and that's not a lot - here are a few pebbles.Brighton Pensionerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13370054497955792775noreply@blogger.comBlogger2838125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101041874322030800.post-28750775680922741422018-08-04T16:08:00.000+01:002018-08-04T16:08:02.111+01:00No camAbout 45 years ago I bought a second-hand Olympus SLR camera and became hooked on taking photographs. That camera has long since gone to the great photographic museum in the sky (or, more accurately, is probably buried under a heap of rotting rubbish somewhere). Other cameras have come and gone, and although there have been spells of several months when I haven't even picked up a camera, I have still managed to take a fair few pictures.<br />
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It is about this time each year that I start to think about the illustrations for our calendar for the next year. Our kitchen calendar has, for many years, been a one-off specially produced using pictures that I have taken. It all started as a way or reminding ourselves what we had done and where we had been the previous year, although that has gone by the board and we simply select a dozen pictures from the many hundreds that I have on file. I select a long-list of about 30 and the Old Bat selects one of them for each month. I am graciously permitted to pick the cover illustration!<br />
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I haven't taken many pictures this year; it has been one of those hiatuses when I haven't picked up a camera. But I have earmarked a few pictures, and here are a couple of them.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDE0wX86qHfAoNXz2Jyy5V4uJm4jRNMP8CPqZD0HLQNE5L_O9X4J7rwkdNPaZDJ-i83lE5Od_JvDYoqzZecwMUSwogGLPFrHd_4qlWwy4OiKgu0Mh98u2cMgoORZ_fd6k-HXcS23xhX9g/s1600/12+-+Dec.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1141" data-original-width="1600" height="456" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDE0wX86qHfAoNXz2Jyy5V4uJm4jRNMP8CPqZD0HLQNE5L_O9X4J7rwkdNPaZDJ-i83lE5Od_JvDYoqzZecwMUSwogGLPFrHd_4qlWwy4OiKgu0Mh98u2cMgoORZ_fd6k-HXcS23xhX9g/s640/12+-+Dec.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The chateau at Chateaubriant reflected in the window of the bank opposite.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQWicrsBG881GplmxSuwv4TtWbFSgDPAVtebljX8ADs1f74m38lju8DefaIbpJh8QlupE6_o6QMKsf_CLMZIhz_ynN8maTFqwSq_DXEMccidr788JczLeAjm-bcwK3Suuqx0gY23V-lhU/s1600/Cobweb.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQWicrsBG881GplmxSuwv4TtWbFSgDPAVtebljX8ADs1f74m38lju8DefaIbpJh8QlupE6_o6QMKsf_CLMZIhz_ynN8maTFqwSq_DXEMccidr788JczLeAjm-bcwK3Suuqx0gY23V-lhU/s640/Cobweb.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In Withdean Park, Brighton</td></tr>
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<br />Brighton Pensionerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13370054497955792775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101041874322030800.post-91295672928763154612018-08-03T14:39:00.001+01:002018-08-03T14:39:31.479+01:00Well, well, wellI notice that it is almost six months since I last stumbled into the bloggosphere. I have to admit that I thought it was probably rather longer than that, but who's counting? For some reason I simply lost interest.<br />
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Even without the compulsion to write something every day (and that compulsion disappeared over the horizon more than six months ago!) I don't seem to have had any more time than before simply to sit and twiddle my thumbs. Much of my time has, as ever, been taken up with matters concerning Brighton Lions Club. I am still treasurer and have, for the second year running, taken on the organisation of our annual fireworks display. Although the display takes place in November (gunpowder plot, Guy Fawkes and all that) planning obviously has to start well ahead - January, in fact! Fortunately, the actual pyrotechnic element is not part of my responsibility and almost everything that needs to be done, has been, although there are still a few odds and ends to tie up.<br />
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Another Lions activity that gave me something to do was Project Wenceslas. Let me say right at the start: this was not something that we in Brighton dreamed up. We borrowed the idea from Farnham Lions Club in Surrey, but they had no difficulty in letting us use the same name - and even their artwork! <br />
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The basis of the scheme is that every person in England over the age of 65 receives the Winter Fuel Payment, subject to certain conditions. This is paid at the rate of £200 (or £100 each for a household of two who both qualify) rising to £300 for more elderly people. Not everybody really needs the payment, and we asked those who received it but didn't need it to donate it to us. Our promise was that we would use it to reduce fuel poverty in the city. Agencies like the Citizens Advice Bureau were able to refer clients to us and we would clear their outstanding accounts - or make a suitable reduction - from the donations we received.Needless to say, it was the treasurer who had the job of receiving the referrals and making the payments! Without going back to the accounts, I would say that we paid out some £8,000 last winter.Brighton Pensionerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13370054497955792775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101041874322030800.post-75538481605712588922018-02-17T15:59:00.001+00:002018-02-17T15:59:06.642+00:00Winter OlympicsIt seems scarcely possible that it was 34 years ago we watched Jayne Torvill and Christopher Dean win their gold medals at the Winter Olympics at Sarajevo with this routine.<br />
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Brighton Pensionerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13370054497955792775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101041874322030800.post-8146359673833996582018-01-15T15:21:00.003+00:002018-01-15T15:21:28.201+00:00Apple howlingI'm sorry I missed this. It took place not many miles from here and sounds a lot of fun!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUY5FjqdJGipJl1djVOqSIymkrLosl-eSC3sAsx7HUpOvrSyehTPE9pI-S1d87obSwdl-FX0OidQ42NmaquWi_A87a2cyjRhbaRiAlbKXpJueVXZ8Nj22EgdszdeGT4ae3BG-MDfP2Rxg/s1600/wpad790759_05_06.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="603" height="476" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUY5FjqdJGipJl1djVOqSIymkrLosl-eSC3sAsx7HUpOvrSyehTPE9pI-S1d87obSwdl-FX0OidQ42NmaquWi_A87a2cyjRhbaRiAlbKXpJueVXZ8Nj22EgdszdeGT4ae3BG-MDfP2Rxg/s640/wpad790759_05_06.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Get the full story right <a href="http://www.crmm.org.uk/applehowling.html" target="_blank">here</a>.Brighton Pensionerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13370054497955792775noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101041874322030800.post-78144561830385313052018-01-05T16:02:00.002+00:002018-01-05T16:02:20.966+00:00I didn't think it could happenI wouldn't call myself a technophobe - but I'm not exactly a technophile either. (Why does blogger recognise technophobe but not technophile?) Nonetheless, I bought myself a Kindle some months ago, presumably for a reason that made sense at the time although I have long since forgotten what it was. I probably puzzled myself by doing so as I have always said that I enjoyed the sensation of holding a 'real' book in my hands - especially a new book - and turning the pages. You wouldn't catch me reading a back-lit screen!<br />
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Well, I have to admit I was wrong.<br />
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Reading is something that I have always enjoyed; once I had learned to read, of course. I always have a book 'on the go', generally a library book. That is, the books were generally library books before the Kindle transformed my reading habits. Although it was not a transformation of my habits, merely a change from hard copy to electronic. And, somewhat to my surprise, I now prefer to use my Kindle. Of course, it does mean that I have to pay for my reading material now instead of borrowing from the public library; in the past I have been too mean to buy books!<br />
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So what is it about the Kindle that has so drastically altered my view? Well, in no particular order:<br />
<ul>
<li>I can slip it into my pocket far more conveniently than a book for reading in the doctor's waiting room or in the hospital outpatients' department.</li>
<li>There is no need to scrabble around looking for the bookmark that has fallen on the floor or slipped down the side of the armchair. (I refuse to mutilate books by folding down the corner of a page to mark my place.)</li>
<li>The size of the font can be altered - a boon for those late evenings when the eyes are tired.</li>
</ul>
There were more things I had in mind - but that's just where they are now; right at the back of my mind! Brighton Pensionerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13370054497955792775noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101041874322030800.post-45327556416928688712017-12-21T14:45:00.001+00:002017-12-21T14:45:26.195+00:00Santa's catsI was on Ho Ho Ho duty at the garden centre this morning and was just about to start putting on the gear when one of the women staff at the centre poked her head round the door.<br />
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"Are you doing Santa this morning?" she asked.<br />
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I replied in the affirmative.<br />
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"Would you mind if a friend of mine brought her two cats in to see you? She treats them as her children."<br />
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So there I was later on with a cat on each knee while the owners took photographs to be used as their Christmas card next year.Brighton Pensionerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13370054497955792775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101041874322030800.post-24508132264045915602017-11-28T12:40:00.001+00:002017-11-28T12:40:27.945+00:00Il StroncapaneDuring the last two and a bit weeks since I last posted I have had several ideas that I fully intended to set down here. But something always got in the way - Life with a capital L. Now, of course, I can't for the life of me remember what any of those ideas might have been.<br />
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Another senior moment, I suppose.<br />
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Anyway, Il Stroncapane.<br />
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It was while doing the washing up yesterday evening that those words flashed into me mind. What caused this flash of Italian sunshine is beyond my comprehension.<br />
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And what, you ask, is Il Stroncapane?<br />
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Some years ago, my Good Lady and I had a holiday in Tuscany. As was in those days our wont, we rented a place for a week, self-catered breakfast and ate in various restaurants in the evenings. We visited Florence (disappointing, except for the baptistery doors), Siena (cram-packed with tourists) and Pisa (Piazza dei Miracoli miraculously empty when we arrived but after a stroll around it was filled with people pretending to hold up the Leaning Tower as their photos were taken).<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfObnzc-bt7ILFTQIC2xiNokpu54J9aAkHSPmGZs2dCuoZMcxINwmrAq-cgio6yfEE6YOrtOLaB3n0m7yfQuA4rtBNS5h6cv57cNA0rIhvfg86529FymZTJP_XqZJFgwAbp601FfcfX98/s1600/Pisa+-+Piazza+del+Mirabile.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfObnzc-bt7ILFTQIC2xiNokpu54J9aAkHSPmGZs2dCuoZMcxINwmrAq-cgio6yfEE6YOrtOLaB3n0m7yfQuA4rtBNS5h6cv57cNA0rIhvfg86529FymZTJP_XqZJFgwAbp601FfcfX98/s400/Pisa+-+Piazza+del+Mirabile.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What? No tourists?</td></tr>
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We also took a look at the famous triangular piazza in Greve in Chianti. Just like Siena, there was hardly room to breathe. But in a small town closer to where we were staying is another triangular piazza. For my mopey, the piazza in Figline is more attractive - and wasn't full of screaming tourists!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoV7uXE6n_u_vvkJLytOMgi-2E58D5MCul1tUdPj-TeQpmRTo_wbayapSHHtGKSOpebu1phxsuNvkP1noL7tWDjsec9uMtnASqgecg6x_FpArVApkxsC4I-TVdYEwqYit2nPZlhfj1N-4/s1600/Figline+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoV7uXE6n_u_vvkJLytOMgi-2E58D5MCul1tUdPj-TeQpmRTo_wbayapSHHtGKSOpebu1phxsuNvkP1noL7tWDjsec9uMtnASqgecg6x_FpArVApkxsC4I-TVdYEwqYit2nPZlhfj1N-4/s400/Figline+%25282%2529.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The piazza in Figline</td></tr>
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And tucked away in a corner of the piazza is - or was then - a restaurant that became our favourite that holiday: Il Stroncapane.<br />
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I wouldn't mind going back there sometime.Brighton Pensionerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13370054497955792775noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101041874322030800.post-76312904329152904142017-10-31T12:56:00.001+00:002017-10-31T12:56:23.287+00:00Blue eyesI'm always a sucker for blonde hair and blue eyes, especially when they come with a young lady. yesterday I fell in love again. Mind you, she was only born in the early hours, but my latest granddaughter will be able to twist me round her little finger before she's much older. And here she is, Katie Elizabeth Rose.<br />
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<br />Brighton Pensionerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13370054497955792775noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101041874322030800.post-61889057030379644942017-10-22T16:18:00.002+01:002017-10-22T16:18:39.896+01:00I'm late!With all the kerfuffle going on, I never did get round to posting yesterday as I had intended. You see, yesterday was Trafalgar Day, the anniversary of the battle in 1805 in which the British fleet, commended by Admiral Lord Nelson, defeated the combined French and Spanish fleets off Cape Trafalgar. Nelson's flagship was HMS Victory, which has the distinction of being the oldest commissioned warship in the world!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Borrowed from the Daily Mail but I see another has copyright. Sorry!</td></tr>
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I sometimes wonder how much of the ship actually saw the dockyard at Chatham when she was launched in 1765. A bit like the story of "my grandfather's axe. My father gave it a new haft and I gave it a new head".<br />
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Nelson, of course, was shot and killed during the battle and his body was preserved in a barrel of brandy.<br />
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Which reminds me of the story of a guide on the Victory telling a party of tourists, "That plaque on the deck is the spot where Nelson fell." To which one of the tourists responds, "I'm not surprised. I nearly tripped over it myself!"<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGDWiHD2MaM1ym3zXpdi2tDaZBOo7xF07CxysPEDjcz9wkIsm-y7l2oiALlVisthYPqxg_Ctjf4XjL7wUG0VgfQMu7Md9Qf0c3WmVuL8N9TqvQfEt9YivemSqmwQfqKAXNpOoB8FHZb_Q/s1600/Falmouth.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGDWiHD2MaM1ym3zXpdi2tDaZBOo7xF07CxysPEDjcz9wkIsm-y7l2oiALlVisthYPqxg_Ctjf4XjL7wUG0VgfQMu7Md9Qf0c3WmVuL8N9TqvQfEt9YivemSqmwQfqKAXNpOoB8FHZb_Q/s640/Falmouth.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the quayside at Falmouth, Cornwall.</td></tr>
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<br />Brighton Pensionerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13370054497955792775noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101041874322030800.post-170229059049852732017-10-13T13:28:00.003+01:002017-10-13T13:28:27.539+01:00Silver for her......was gold for the Old Bat and me! Last weekend our granddaughter won the silver medal in the Sussex Gymnastics Championships, Tumbling Age 9-10 Women. What a pity we were unable to see it.<br />
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Where are the 2024 Olympics to be held?<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>(Yeh, just dreamin'!)</i></span>Brighton Pensionerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13370054497955792775noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101041874322030800.post-65719266744935720332017-10-03T12:14:00.003+01:002017-10-03T12:14:39.435+01:00And now for something electrifying!<center>
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Brighton Pensionerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13370054497955792775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101041874322030800.post-65332976952243753832017-09-27T16:16:00.000+01:002017-09-27T16:16:15.592+01:00HiI just can't bring myself to do it. Almost everyone who send me emails starts them, "Hi" and although it doesn't grate on me, it's not something I can bring myself to do. Which - I have to admit - is just a little odd as I have no difficulty in ending my emails "Regards" - or even, sometimes, "Kind regards".<br />
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Language, I am very well aware, is a living thing; it moves, it changes, it develops. And that is how it should be. After all, Old Bill the Bard is venerated for having introduced (or even invented) goodness knows how many words. Infinitives I can split with the next man, despite knowing that a split infinitive is a grammatic abhorrence - but there are times when sandwiching the adverb just seems to give it a bit more punch. As in "to boldly go", for example.<br />
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Back in the day, I was firmly instructed (or instructed firmly) that business correspondence opened "Dear Sir" and closed "Yours faithfully". If one was well acquainted with the correspondent, the salutation could be the less formal "Dear Mr Smith", in which case the closing would change to "Yours sincerely". Of course, letters to family and close friends would open with "Dear Jim" and close with "Love from". There would then be numerous permutations of opening with things like "Dear Prime Minister" and ending the letter of resignation with "Yours truly" or even "Yours ever" - although both the salutation and either closing would perhaps be somewhat tongue in cheek.<br />
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Of course, we have all seen examples of letters from the first World War trenches ending along the lines of, "from your affectionate son, Jack" - which simply goes to prove my point about language being a changeable commodity. but I still can't open an email with the word "Hi".Brighton Pensionerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13370054497955792775noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101041874322030800.post-27436344017343839052017-09-10T11:16:00.001+01:002017-09-10T11:16:48.146+01:00A new one on meThe weather on Friday was decidedly naff, windy and with a fair amount of rain - oftentimes really heavy. Nothing compared to what people have been facing in the Caribbean or those southern states in the US, but a bit off for this part of England. Here in the south-east corner we have enjoyed a very fair summer - indeed, the weather has been very good for the most part and better than in other parts of the country.<br />
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But that is all by the bye and has little to do with what was new to me.<br />
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I had taken Fern for her post-breakfast walk - and got rather damp. In fact, very wet. There was very heavy rain late morning and I had pretty much decided that the afternoon walk would not happen - but the weather cleared. We set off across 39 Acres, through the wood at the top of Wild Park and on to the deserted golf course. And that was when it happened.<br />
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You can, perhaps, imagine my astonishment when I saw a crow looking for all the world as though it was about to land on Fern's rump! It's legs were outstretched as it approached the unsuspecting dog. I yelled at it and it moved away - only to come back a second and even a third time!<br />
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But it was then that the crow's avian nemesis appeared in the form of a first-year herring gull. The gull flew at the crow as if it was attempting to drive the bird away - and it kept doing so!<br />
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I don't know what surprised me the most: that a crow should attempt to land on fern; or that a gull should come to Fern's rescue; or that we got home dry after the better part of an hour's walk!Brighton Pensionerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13370054497955792775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101041874322030800.post-46552437586980914802017-09-07T14:22:00.000+01:002017-09-07T14:22:26.505+01:00Squirrel alert!It's that time of the year again. The time when the pears are getting near to being near to being ripe - if you follow my meaning. They are really starting to thin themselves out, which means they are ripe enough for the squirrels. Indeed, I watched one taking a few bites just the other day, but the fruit was apparently not quite ripe enough. But it very soon will be!<br />
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And if the squirrels don't damage the fruit, the jackdaws almost certainly will. There are jackdaws around all year, but when the pears are very nearly ripe they descend on the tree almost like a horde of locusts. And there doesn't seem to be anything we can do to stop them - other than tie the dog to the tree, to which she would most certainly object vociferously.<br />
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If all goes well, we might get a few undamaged pears.Brighton Pensionerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13370054497955792775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101041874322030800.post-26131018724858310632017-08-27T12:50:00.000+01:002017-08-27T12:50:18.471+01:00Just updatingI haven't posted for a week - and what I have posted recently hasn't been anything of my own. But as Skip said, life has just been getting in the way. What with barbecues with the family, a visit from my daughter, lunch, afternoon tea and dinner with friends (not all the same friends and not all on the same day!), there has been little enough time for me to grapple with the complexities of my brand new iphone. Yes, I finally decided to retire the old Nokia. It has served me faithfully for many a year but I felt I wanted something more sophisticated, something that would just give me more that simple phone calls - and horrifically difficult texts!<br />
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Throw in Lions work - transport for stroke patients and the blind, shopping for food banks, dealing with bookings for PSA tests while another Lion was away, planning the fireworks display and putting together the proposal for relieving fuel poverty in Brighton and a couple of business meetings. I have also had fun dealing with various bits of software such as Survey Monkey, Jotform and even PayPal. Still, most of it has been fun. Of a sort.Brighton Pensionerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13370054497955792775noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101041874322030800.post-84102274057495733072017-08-20T16:37:00.000+01:002017-08-20T16:37:11.927+01:00Why Brexit?<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "YouTube Noto", Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">At last, the UK's 500 year plan and decision to vote to leave Europe is explained in full. ("Yes, Minister" was a British TV comedy series, this episode dating from 1981!)</span><br />
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Brighton Pensionerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13370054497955792775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101041874322030800.post-34334957110340074292017-08-09T16:47:00.001+01:002017-08-09T16:47:10.817+01:00Glen Campbell, RIPI remember many of his songs, but this one was new to me when I spotted it on the Tube o' U today.<br />
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Brighton Pensionerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13370054497955792775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101041874322030800.post-36319034385566204162017-08-08T16:38:00.000+01:002017-08-08T16:38:06.649+01:00Feminine logicThere follows the gist of a conversation I <strike>enjoyed</strike> had yesterday with the Old Bat. I was ironing a t-shirt of hers but was unsure were she would want me to put it later.<br />
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<i>Me: Where does this green t-shirt of your live?</i><br />
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<i>OB: In the t-shirt drawer.</i><br />
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<i>Me: I am never sure which of your t-shirts go in the t-shirt drawer and which go on hangers in the wardrobe.</i><br />
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<i>OB: All my t-shirts go in the t-shirt drawer. Except those that go on hangers.</i><br />
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There are times when it seems easiest just to keep quiet.Brighton Pensionerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13370054497955792775noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101041874322030800.post-33352803915236381732017-07-25T11:15:00.000+01:002017-07-25T11:15:18.967+01:00A hundred yearsI am always slightly surprised when there are large-scale (well, largish) events commemorating something that happened a century ago. I'm reasonably sure I would remember if there had been anything done to commemorate the Crimean War (battle of Balaclava, Florence Nightingale, the Charge of the Light Brigade) when the centenary occurred in the 1950's, but perhaps it is just that the Crimean War didn't leave such a mark on the hearts and minds of my fellow countrymen as did the First World War.<br />
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There are, I would suggest, two major battles from that war that are deeply etched into our consciousness: the Battle of the Somme in 1916, and the Third Battle of Ypres, commonly known as the Battle of Passchendaele, in 1917. Indeed, the centenary of the start of that battle occurs next weekend.<br />
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Briefly, Passchendaele is a small village a few miles from the Belgian town of Ypres, also spelt Ieper and known to the Tommies of WW1 as Wipers. It was considered vital to the war effort to capture the ridge on which the village stood. the attack was launched on 31st July, but it was until 10th November that Canadian troops finally captured the village. The weather was appalling, as can be seen in this photograph, and there are reports of many men drowning in the mud.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Australian gunners on a duckboard<span style="background-color: #f8f9fa; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.32px;"> track</span><span style="background-color: #f8f9fa; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.32px;">, 29 October 1917. Photo by </span>Frank Hurley<span style="background-color: #f8f9fa; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12.32px;">.</span></td></tr>
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The number of casualties is still a matter of controversy, but the official figure of British and allied losses is in the region of 250,000. Many of those men have no known grave - and Belgian farmers still find human bones from time to time. The Menin Gate at Ypres was erected after the war as a memorial to the men who died and on it are carved the names of those who have no known grave.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Menin Gate. Photo Commonwealth War Graves Commission.</td></tr>
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When the memorial was finished, it was found to be too small to contain the names of all those who had no known grave so a cut-off date of 15th August 1917 was imposed. There are, nonetheless, 54,395 names inscribed. A further memorial at Tyne Cot Cemetery has the names of the remaining 34,984 UK soldiers missing. The names of the missing New Zealand and Newfoundland soldiers are on separate memorials.<br />
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One of the main roads out of Ypres passes through the gate, but every evening the road is closed while buglers of the local fire brigade play the Last Post. <a href="http://www.lastpost.be/en/home" target="_blank">The Last Post Association </a>web site states:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Every evening since 1928 the Last Post has been played under the Menin Gate Memorial in Ieper at 8 o'clock sharp. This evening the ceremony will take place for the 30747th time.</blockquote>
In fact, that is not quite correct. The ceremony didn't take place while Ypres was occupied by the Germans during World War II, but on the day the German army retreated, the ceremony was reinstated. It regularly attracts considerable crowds, as can be seen in this video taekn only in April this year.<br />
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Brighton Pensionerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13370054497955792775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101041874322030800.post-60256453317659195832017-07-24T12:17:00.000+01:002017-07-24T12:17:01.777+01:00Blue sky thinkingWe do get blue skies in Brighton - but not today!<br />
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This is possibly the best-known building in Brighton, the Royal Pavilion. It started life as a modest farmhouse, until the Prince Regent had it converted into his palace by the sea some 200 years ago. Can you believe that at one time there was a proposal to demolish it and build a bus station on the site?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ0fKO6p2KKQbYPiorhwG9MMCrabB0-ayNjrrCQ0nDlCWtHiDl-xVTBJoNwAyjsVVOGQz2jsSX1Pgyq4TagAfwJ5YqMWOJCL_woK1BwphTVS9aHgxudW6y1LgvO4X53njpHa3rxQOrapE/s1600/The+Royal+Pavilion%252C+Brighton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1544" data-original-width="1600" height="616" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ0fKO6p2KKQbYPiorhwG9MMCrabB0-ayNjrrCQ0nDlCWtHiDl-xVTBJoNwAyjsVVOGQz2jsSX1Pgyq4TagAfwJ5YqMWOJCL_woK1BwphTVS9aHgxudW6y1LgvO4X53njpHa3rxQOrapE/s640/The+Royal+Pavilion%252C+Brighton.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />Brighton Pensionerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13370054497955792775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101041874322030800.post-40352163775191394282017-07-22T12:41:00.003+01:002017-07-22T12:41:40.568+01:00More on the daily photoSome days ago, or just two blogs ago, I mentioned the City Daily Photo scheme. I had signed up to that - but my photos were more often of the countryside around the city than of the city itself. This is one such. I have just discovered that there are a couple of dozen (or maybe even more) pictures on the camera that I have done nothing with. This one, taken from the bedroom window early on an October morning back in 2013, was intended for that daily photo blog of mine, but obviously never made it.<br />
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I had long wanted to emulate those photographers who managed to capture early morning mist filling valleys, with perhaps a church spire poking through. This is the nearest I have ever got to it - and I didn't even have to leave the house!<br />
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<br />Brighton Pensionerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13370054497955792775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101041874322030800.post-52555654998967772312017-07-21T15:51:00.002+01:002017-07-21T15:51:44.638+01:00It's the pedant in methat objects and I have to struggle to keep my mouth shut when I hear:<br />
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"hopefully" instead of "I hope";<br />
"was" instead of "were" (you/we was there too);<br />
"can I get" instead of "may I have"<br />
"should of" instead of "should have".<br />
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And there are others - but you get the idea!Brighton Pensionerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13370054497955792775noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101041874322030800.post-63578858681731695812017-07-18T17:03:00.002+01:002017-07-18T17:03:23.856+01:00City Daily PhotoSome years ago I discovered the City daily Photo website and <strike>wasted</strike> spent a considerable amount of time each day visiting cities around the world. I even started my own daily blog with photos I took in and around Brighton.<br />
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This had all virtually (pun intended!) slipped from my memory until this morning. I had an outpatient's appointment at the hospital (no real problem, just a follow-up from an earlier consultation and no further action required) and on the way back to the car I walked past St George's church, the parish church for Kemp Town. I had photographed the church back in the 'old days', and here it is:<br />
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It doesn't look English to me!<br />
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Built in 1824-25, the total cost was £11,000. According to Wiki, "After Revd James Anderson became curate of the church in 1828, his close association with Queen Adelaide, the consort of King William IV, made the church very popular. The queen consort was popular with the British people and often spent time in Brighton. When in the town, she worshipped at St George's." Hence the Royal coat of arms above the door.Brighton Pensionerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13370054497955792775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101041874322030800.post-36437395580321718052017-07-16T16:59:00.002+01:002017-07-16T16:59:39.553+01:00Inflation?One of our supermarket chain has been advertising this week:<br /><br />"British cherries, strawberries, raspberries - £2 each"<br />
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And in the pub where Brighton Lions held their dinner meeting this week:<br />
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"FREE - function room for hire!"<br />
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But maybe it's just me.Brighton Pensionerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13370054497955792775noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9101041874322030800.post-47211707282742141752017-07-15T12:04:00.001+01:002017-07-15T12:04:22.433+01:00More about WillAs I inferred in my last post, the people of Gillingham knew nothing about Will Adams - and, for the most part, cared even less! But that we 60 years ago. Now I understand that there is a Will Adams NHS Treatment Centre, a Will Adams ward in the Medway Maritime Hospital, a Will Adams Pupil Referral Unit, a pub named The Will Adams - and even an annual Will Adams Festival! It seems that Gillingham's most famous son is at last becoming famous!<br />
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So who was Will Adams?<br />
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Will was born in 1564, he was apprenticed to a Limehouse shipyard owner and learned shipbuilding, astronomy and navigation before entering the Royal Navy, where he served under Sir Francis Drake and saw action against the Spanish armada. In 1598 he sailed in a convoy of Dutch ships for the Dutch East Indies via the Magellan Straits, the west coast of South America and Japan. After many disasters, Adams was one of the few men to reach Japan, the first Englishman to have reached that country. He was forbidden to leave Japan, became a samurai and was forced to take Japanese nationality. He died in Japan in 1620.<br />
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<br />Brighton Pensionerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13370054497955792775noreply@blogger.com1