Found a wonderful branch on the common today, leaves growing out of the end and everything. I just loved it. I half carried, half dragged it all the way from the far pond with huge difficulty, and then, just when we got to the edge of the common by the church pond, George made me leave it there.
Why?
How mean is that?
(Later I heard him telling Graham that I wanted to bring a tree home. What an exaggeration.)
He does this all the time. Like, on So was it necessary for George to say to Graham: 'He loved that porridge. You should have seen him go for it. I thought he was going to eat the bowl.' ?
No. I don't think so.
Saturday, 6 November 2010
Saturday, 30 October 2010
Cyclists
According to Mrs. Waszelkowska from number 95, the council are going to put sleeping policemen all down our road. Well. The woman is clearly completely bonkers. I know this, because she's said strange things in the past, like once: 'I've had a horrible cold and now I'm a little horse.' , and other things I can't think of right now.
The mayor, Boris Johnson, (not to be confused with Boris Johnson the v. v. scarey bull terrier who lives on the estate further down our street in Hite Huse, has recently launched his big bicycle hire scheme. George is thinking of joining. This set Graham off on a massive rant.
'Oh yes. Absolutely. That's exactly what we need.....Six thousand more cyclists on London's roads.....barrelling along in their obscene luminous lycra, weaving in and out of the traffic...lining up in front of the traffic at traffic lights...Look at me, I'm saving the world... And that's another thing: who was the moron who came up with the ludicrous idea of painting a square with a bicycle in it right in front of the traffic at the lights so, when the lights turn green, you've got to crawl behind a whole flotilla of bicycles until they deign to move ever, ever so slightly to the left...Probably the same miniscule bureaucratic mind who dreamed up the forward-sloping-narrow-and-impossible-to-sit-on bus shelter benches....(by now, nobody was really listening) No, cyclists are a total MENACE . It's not the ordinary old-style cyclists I mind', he adds, 'the ones who trundle along slowley in the gutter; they're fine.. It's the boy-racers who actually seem to think they can go faster than cars....etc...etc. (He can keep this sort of thing up for hours.)
More Graham peeves:
1.Tennis players who punch the air and pull stupid, roaring faces.
2.Anyone who says 'At the end of the day'.
3. Anyone who says 'Basically.'
The mayor, Boris Johnson, (not to be confused with Boris Johnson the v. v. scarey bull terrier who lives on the estate further down our street in Hite Huse, has recently launched his big bicycle hire scheme. George is thinking of joining. This set Graham off on a massive rant.
'Oh yes. Absolutely. That's exactly what we need.....Six thousand more cyclists on London's roads.....barrelling along in their obscene luminous lycra, weaving in and out of the traffic...lining up in front of the traffic at traffic lights...Look at me, I'm saving the world... And that's another thing: who was the moron who came up with the ludicrous idea of painting a square with a bicycle in it right in front of the traffic at the lights so, when the lights turn green, you've got to crawl behind a whole flotilla of bicycles until they deign to move ever, ever so slightly to the left...Probably the same miniscule bureaucratic mind who dreamed up the forward-sloping-narrow-and-impossible-to-sit-on bus shelter benches....(by now, nobody was really listening) No, cyclists are a total MENACE . It's not the ordinary old-style cyclists I mind', he adds, 'the ones who trundle along slowley in the gutter; they're fine.. It's the boy-racers who actually seem to think they can go faster than cars....etc...etc. (He can keep this sort of thing up for hours.)
More Graham peeves:
1.Tennis players who punch the air and pull stupid, roaring faces.
2.Anyone who says 'At the end of the day'.
3. Anyone who says 'Basically.'
Sunday, 24 October 2010
Winston
We stopped at the Co-op on the way home from our walk and, just as Graham was tying my lead to a pole outside, ( & I have absolutely no idea why he does this), up rumbled Mrs Dearlove on her mobility scooter, with Winston in a naff little basket attached to the handle bar. Mrs. Dearlove is George's very posh old great-aunt who lives at Wyndham Lode, a sort of kennel for old folk further down Church Road, opposite the restaurant. Winston is a pug, or, as he prefers, a Chinee' Pug.
Graham greeted Mrs. Dearlove and she replied "Air hellair...um....yars." (She can never remember his name.)
"Hurro, how you Henly?" said Winston to me. "You see dead squiller the other day?" I told him I had.
" We had big party at home las' nigh' ", he went on. "Everyn Rrewerryn-Jone' turn one hundled year! Imagine! Rovery foo', evelybody singing 'Whi' criffs of Dover', evelybody crapping..good party."
Mrs Dearlove, meanwhile, was asking at the till where she could find night cream. Ahmed directed her to the dairy section and she wandered off towards it, looking a bit puzzled. She came out soon afterwards, climbed back onto her scooter and began a complicated ten point turnaround manoevre during which she crashed twice into the Co-op's window. A hairline crack appeared. "Whatch ou' ol' rady!" said Winston crossly.
Here are some things which are definitely not worth eating:
1. Toothpaste
2. Brussels sprouts
3. (Some) plastics
4. Snails......(Strangely, these are eaten by humans. Why? They're v disgusting and why, if they are going to eat something like this, don't they eat slugs? (It would be a lot easier)).
Graham greeted Mrs. Dearlove and she replied "Air hellair...um....yars." (She can never remember his name.)
"Hurro, how you Henly?" said Winston to me. "You see dead squiller the other day?" I told him I had.
" We had big party at home las' nigh' ", he went on. "Everyn Rrewerryn-Jone' turn one hundled year! Imagine! Rovery foo', evelybody singing 'Whi' criffs of Dover', evelybody crapping..good party."
Mrs Dearlove, meanwhile, was asking at the till where she could find night cream. Ahmed directed her to the dairy section and she wandered off towards it, looking a bit puzzled. She came out soon afterwards, climbed back onto her scooter and began a complicated ten point turnaround manoevre during which she crashed twice into the Co-op's window. A hairline crack appeared. "Whatch ou' ol' rady!" said Winston crossly.
Here are some things which are definitely not worth eating:
1. Toothpaste
2. Brussels sprouts
3. (Some) plastics
4. Snails......(Strangely, these are eaten by humans. Why? They're v disgusting and why, if they are going to eat something like this, don't they eat slugs? (It would be a lot easier)).
Saturday, 23 October 2010
Liza Vinelli
It was Graham's turn to feed us. He's much stricter than George. Insists that Clarice must finish what's in her bowl before he'll give her more. (Naturally, the question doesn't even arise as far as my bowl is concerned.)
"Uh-uh", he says. "Oh no. - I can still see plenty of food in there."
"Wha-a-a-t?" says Clarice. " These bits? I can't eat these bits. The jelly's all been licked off."
"Eat it." says Graham.
Clarice stalks off to sulk and, usually, George comes and secretly empties the leftovers into the dustbin, (though I'd be only too happy to eat them). The next time Graham comes into the kitchen, there's Clarice sitting very reproachfully by her bowl. Graham gets a pouch of catfood out of the box.
"Now", he says, " it's this or nothing. They no longer give us the option to only buy your favourite flavours. We have to buy these variety packs and this is the only flavour left. So, like it or lump it."
He reads from the pouch, which has gone all Euro:
"Rabbit/Lapin/Kaninchen/Konijn/Riistaa/Vilt/Conejo. This is Clarice's second least favourite. The one she really detests is Beef/Boeuf/Rind/Rund/Naudanlihaa/Oxkott/Oksekd/Buey.
"Whoever heard of a cat eating a cow?" she says.
On our early walk to get the newspapers and some milk at the Co-op, we walked past Fabulous the hairdresser's, and Dennis, Liza Vinelli's owner, was out in front having a cig before opening time. Liza Vinelli was sitting on the doorstep. She's a Japanese Bobtail cat which means she's got a tail a bit like a rabbit........(!) She was born like that. It wasn't chopped off..(I say this, because there's a truly terrible urban myth about puppies having their tails chopped off in the olden days (!...?...!) This is too horrible to even contemplate.)
Liza Vinelli is quite friendly, but also quite strange. Today she wanted me to hear two haikus she's composed: -
I stare at a leaf
Suddenly it comes to life,
A green butterfly.
And, the much more bloodthirsty:
A Blackbird hops past
Ignores me, though I am there.
Crunch! Arrogant bird.
"Uh-uh", he says. "Oh no. - I can still see plenty of food in there."
"Wha-a-a-t?" says Clarice. " These bits? I can't eat these bits. The jelly's all been licked off."
"Eat it." says Graham.
Clarice stalks off to sulk and, usually, George comes and secretly empties the leftovers into the dustbin, (though I'd be only too happy to eat them). The next time Graham comes into the kitchen, there's Clarice sitting very reproachfully by her bowl. Graham gets a pouch of catfood out of the box.
"Now", he says, " it's this or nothing. They no longer give us the option to only buy your favourite flavours. We have to buy these variety packs and this is the only flavour left. So, like it or lump it."
He reads from the pouch, which has gone all Euro:
"Rabbit/Lapin/Kaninchen/Konijn/Riistaa/Vilt/Conejo. This is Clarice's second least favourite. The one she really detests is Beef/Boeuf/Rind/Rund/Naudanlihaa/Oxkott/Oksekd/Buey.
"Whoever heard of a cat eating a cow?" she says.
On our early walk to get the newspapers and some milk at the Co-op, we walked past Fabulous the hairdresser's, and Dennis, Liza Vinelli's owner, was out in front having a cig before opening time. Liza Vinelli was sitting on the doorstep. She's a Japanese Bobtail cat which means she's got a tail a bit like a rabbit........(!) She was born like that. It wasn't chopped off..(I say this, because there's a truly terrible urban myth about puppies having their tails chopped off in the olden days (!...?...!) This is too horrible to even contemplate.)
Liza Vinelli is quite friendly, but also quite strange. Today she wanted me to hear two haikus she's composed: -
I stare at a leaf
Suddenly it comes to life,
A green butterfly.
And, the much more bloodthirsty:
A Blackbird hops past
Ignores me, though I am there.
Crunch! Arrogant bird.
Sunday, 17 October 2010
A.J.Flegg
There are fallen crab apples (which don't taste at all nice, by the way), all over the pavement at the bottom of our road by the empty house. Graham likes to, (ever-so, ever-so casually, because he is, after all, 54 years old,) stamp on them. He likes the crunching sound.
Here's what Graham is like...
For months he's been seething and moaning to George about a sign on the pavement outside the bakery, A.J. Flegg est. 1892, which says ' "Fresh" bread daily'.
This morning he can contain himself no longer.
'So', he says to the baker, (A.J. Flegg, I presume, though he doesn't look over a hundred years old). 'Isn't your bread fresh then?'
A.J. Flegg: Huh?
Graham: 'Your bread. Isn't it fresh?' (He points at the sign.)
A.J. Flegg. ' 'course it's fresh. Says so don't it?'
Graham: You've got quotation marks around the word 'fresh'.
A.J. Flegg: ....?
Graham: 'That implies that the bread is, in fact, not fresh.
A.J. Flegg. .......
Graham: It implies that the bread is stale.
A.J. Flegg......Look. You goin' to buy something or not? (There's a queue forming behing Graham) . 'Cos if you aint, you can just %$£^% off.
Graham: Do you mean 'aren't?'
A.J. Flegg: Wha'?
Graham: The word is 'aren't'. Not 'aint'.
A.J. Flegg starts to take his apron off whilst moving quite quickly towards the opening at the end of the counter.
Graham changes his mind about the croissants we went in for, and we leave.
Here's what Graham is like...
For months he's been seething and moaning to George about a sign on the pavement outside the bakery, A.J. Flegg est. 1892, which says ' "Fresh" bread daily'.
This morning he can contain himself no longer.
'So', he says to the baker, (A.J. Flegg, I presume, though he doesn't look over a hundred years old). 'Isn't your bread fresh then?'
A.J. Flegg: Huh?
Graham: 'Your bread. Isn't it fresh?' (He points at the sign.)
A.J. Flegg. ' 'course it's fresh. Says so don't it?'
Graham: You've got quotation marks around the word 'fresh'.
A.J. Flegg: ....?
Graham: 'That implies that the bread is, in fact, not fresh.
A.J. Flegg. .......
Graham: It implies that the bread is stale.
A.J. Flegg......Look. You goin' to buy something or not? (There's a queue forming behing Graham) . 'Cos if you aint, you can just %$£^% off.
Graham: Do you mean 'aren't?'
A.J. Flegg: Wha'?
Graham: The word is 'aren't'. Not 'aint'.
A.J. Flegg starts to take his apron off whilst moving quite quickly towards the opening at the end of the counter.
Graham changes his mind about the croissants we went in for, and we leave.
Sunday, 10 October 2010
Guest blog. (Clarice)
They went out to dinner and left the radio on 'to keep us company'. ...Oh please. .. As far as I'm concerned, it's just a very obtrusive noise which interferes with my sleep. And, to make it worse, the dog insists on singing along. And, to make it doubly worse, he gets the words wrong. For example:
The song Delta Blues is playing:
Dog: Now security did not see him,
They just hoovered round his tomb..
Me: HOvered. They hovered round his tomb.
Dog: What?
Me: The security people are hovering around Elvis's tomb.
Dog: No-o Clarice. See. They're like caretakers. They're cleaning around his tomb. They're being paid to do a job. who would pay them to just hover around?
Me: Oh, good grief.
Then Barbra Streisand comes on.
"Beeple", howls the dog, "Beeple who meet beeple"...
(!)
And in Killer Queen, he goes "Drubberband, she's as pretty as, faithful as a pussycat" and in Sailing by Christopher Cross, he sings "Gans can do miracles, just you wait and see". In Sacrifice by whatzisname, Phil Collins? Elton John? he sings "No teams to Danny, when jealousy burns." And in Yellowbrick Road he's completely lost ...."Going back to my plough", he sings "Back to the arf arf arf arf woods, Back to the arf arf arf, I finally decided my future...."etc. (And I have to listen to all of this.)
The peebles still persist in giving me revolting, testureless geriatric, (although I have all my teeth, thank you very much), mush to eat. It says 'Chicken' or 'Turkey' or 'Rabbit' on the pouches, but they all taste the same.(Though some are slightly more revolting than others.) Where are the little bones? Where are the gizzards ? And the blood? I'm pretty sure if I ever do manage to work out a way of getting into the cage of the dimwitted rabbit across the street, (Hopkins), he's going to taste a lot better than the so-called 'Gourmet Rabbit'.
The song Delta Blues is playing:
Dog: Now security did not see him,
They just hoovered round his tomb..
Me: HOvered. They hovered round his tomb.
Dog: What?
Me: The security people are hovering around Elvis's tomb.
Dog: No-o Clarice. See. They're like caretakers. They're cleaning around his tomb. They're being paid to do a job. who would pay them to just hover around?
Me: Oh, good grief.
Then Barbra Streisand comes on.
"Beeple", howls the dog, "Beeple who meet beeple"...
(!)
And in Killer Queen, he goes "Drubberband, she's as pretty as, faithful as a pussycat" and in Sailing by Christopher Cross, he sings "Gans can do miracles, just you wait and see". In Sacrifice by whatzisname, Phil Collins? Elton John? he sings "No teams to Danny, when jealousy burns." And in Yellowbrick Road he's completely lost ...."Going back to my plough", he sings "Back to the arf arf arf arf woods, Back to the arf arf arf, I finally decided my future...."etc. (And I have to listen to all of this.)
The peebles still persist in giving me revolting, testureless geriatric, (although I have all my teeth, thank you very much), mush to eat. It says 'Chicken' or 'Turkey' or 'Rabbit' on the pouches, but they all taste the same.(Though some are slightly more revolting than others.) Where are the little bones? Where are the gizzards ? And the blood? I'm pretty sure if I ever do manage to work out a way of getting into the cage of the dimwitted rabbit across the street, (Hopkins), he's going to taste a lot better than the so-called 'Gourmet Rabbit'.
Friday, 1 October 2010
Fox night
It's Friday,which means Fox Night.
There's an alley between our house and #102 which turns left at the end and runs down along the back of the gardens, ending at the wall of the Newspaper shop's yard at the bottom. On Friday evening all the peebles from these houses put their rubbish at the top end of the alley to be collected early on Saturday morning. This is right by our back gate. At about 2:00 am the foxes arrive....
"'Ere Bert. Nice bit o' fish 'ere!"
"'Ang on Charlie. I'm trying to get at this cheese. Can't be doing wiv all this packaging. Does me &%^*&^ 'ead in."
"Oy, Chantelle PUT that down yer greedy cow. I were saving it."
"Snooze, you lose. Foxboy" (Fishwifely laughter going off into the distance.)
"Thassit! She's 'ad it now!"
"Typical, though, Bert, innit?"
"You know what I mean?"
Clarice and I lie low, because foxes are v, v scarey
There's an alley between our house and #102 which turns left at the end and runs down along the back of the gardens, ending at the wall of the Newspaper shop's yard at the bottom. On Friday evening all the peebles from these houses put their rubbish at the top end of the alley to be collected early on Saturday morning. This is right by our back gate. At about 2:00 am the foxes arrive....
"'Ere Bert. Nice bit o' fish 'ere!"
"'Ang on Charlie. I'm trying to get at this cheese. Can't be doing wiv all this packaging. Does me &%^*&^ 'ead in."
"Oy, Chantelle PUT that down yer greedy cow. I were saving it."
"Snooze, you lose. Foxboy" (Fishwifely laughter going off into the distance.)
"Thassit! She's 'ad it now!"
"Typical, though, Bert, innit?"
"You know what I mean?"
Clarice and I lie low, because foxes are v, v scarey
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