Army Capt. Jeremy Orr (left) examines the throat of an Iraqi girl during a Medical Civil Action Program visit in the city of Najaf, Iraq, on Aug. 28, 2005. Orr is deployed with the 198th Armor, 155th Brigade Combat Team. DoD photo by Staff Sgt. Jeromy K. Cross, U.S. Air Force.

It's all Bush's fault, doncha know

I have not written about Katrina, the hurricane that swept through Mississippi, Alabama, and Louisana. I lived in New Orleans for awhile, I've been to Gulfport and Bolixi. It's beautiful country. I'd call Katrina, the hurricane, definitely a natural disaster. It's nature showing one of it's worse sides.

Here are three articles about Katrina. The first is childish, the next is churlish, and the last one was written by an adult:

Robert F. Kennedy, Jr.'s hit piece on being the president's and the govenor of Mississippi's fault for Katrina. In their own two hands, they conjured up this hurricane. Now that's wizardry!

The next article; well, what can I say, consider the source. I'll give you a hint, it's a leading country in the European Union, and one of their leaders came up with the VW, and they don't speak French.

And last, but not least and the only one that makes sense, I might add, is written with down-to-earth dry commonsense. The author of the article highlights the fact that "storms vary with cycles..." "...after eight years, the luck just ran out..." and perhaps the most important words in this article "...mostly the natural swing."

Having others tell YOU what you can and cannot do

Perhaps I am just a naive American living here in England; however, can anyone in the UK please enlighten me on why your country wants to be affiliated with the European Union? And if so, name me one thing that it has done to enhance your country, other than not having to wait in long immigration lines because you have the same passport as everyone else in the EU. Can anyone enlighten me on why you want to give all your freedoms as individuals, all your customs, and how you just do things away to become one with the EU?

How can you want to have some person in Brussels, who reminds me of the little man behind the great voice in the Wizard of Oz, telling your plumbers or electricians what they can or cannot do? How can you want some person in Brussels telling you what kind of frigging bananas you can import; or whether your sausages or cheeses can be sold on the continent, what waters your fisherman can fish from; or where the clothes on your back can come from? You are Englishmen, Scotmen, Welshmen, etc., how can you sit back and just go with the flow?

Birdy has an excellent example of one more freedom that you have biting the dust. It's called EUROCRAP (the post, not the new law; although, it is a bunch of crap). It should bring every single beer or ale drinker up short.

I tell you what, you beautiful people of the UK. One of these days you will be driving on the right side of the road, because Brussels will dictate that it is not fair that you are not in alignment with the rest of the EU. And if that doesn't get your dander up...

I know what will....

Having to give up tea breaks just might finally do the trick.

Bring out the rod, for the teachers I mean

This article is from the Daily Mail here in the UK.

You can use the f-word in class (but only five times)

A secondary school is to allow pupils to
swear at teachers - as long as they don't do so more than five times in a lesson. A running tally of how many times the f-word has been used will be kept on the board. If a class goes over the limit, they will be 'spoken' to at the end of the lesson.

The astonishing policy, which the school says will improve the behaviour of pupils, was condemned by parents' groups and MPs yesterday. They warned it would backfire. read more

Hmmm, since this outstanding school is going to allow students to use the word fuck five times, and why five times? Why not three, or ten, or 25 times...why five? Anyway, since this outstanding school is going to allow the little cherubs say fuck, why stop there? I can think of a few more explicit slang words within the English language that these little darlin's could use to get their point across.

This is the last line of the article...
"As a temporary policy we are giving them a bit of leeway, but want them to think about the way they talk and how they might do better."

Talk about letting the patients run the insane asylum.

Miscellaneous stuff

As you can see, I relented and put that crazy code thing on my comments page. I'm tired of spammers. It's bad enough they ring you at all times of the day and night (I guess the telemarketers are not aware of the time difference between India and the UK), but to get computer-operated spams on your blog is just getting out of hand. So, I'm hanging up on them, so to speak.

I left two of the spams up on one of my postings, only because one of them I think is rather funny the: I've got a surgery penile enlargement related site. It covers surgery penile enlargement related articles. Drop by when you can. Hmmm, personally, since I don't have, nor don't want to have a penis on my body (in my body is a whole nuther subject) I am not interested in this ad. And since, trust me when I say this, Krip is very well endowed does not need any enhancement, neither of us are candidates for browsing the penile enlargement related site.

And what the hell is: I have a sugar glider picture site. It pretty much covers sugar glider picture related stuff. I haven't a clue what this site is all about. And since I don't want to encourage this particular site anymore than I have to, I guess I will just be in the dark about it. I can live with that.

Finally:
There is a particular vehicle, don't know whether it is an automobile or a pick-up truck that goes by everyday at a certain time. I'm tempted to believe it is a pick-up only because of the melody that the horn puts out every single time it goes by. It's a blip of "Dixie." Now since I am a Soth'rn girl through and through, I personally love "Dixie." However, it's rather weird, to say the least, to hear it in Merry Old England.

Anyway, it's certainly comforting to note that there are rednecks everywhere in this world.

Our little stroll in the country

It was an absolutely beautiful day yesterday. So we decided to go on a little country walk. We did; 10.8 miles. You know when you decide to go on a long walk like that, it doesn't seem like it's going to be such a heavy-duty endeavor. It is.

We walked the Cranbrook and Goudhurst walk. A circular walk that encompassed Cranbrook, Little Combourne, Goudhurst, and back to Cranbrook. Lots of meadows, woods, beautiful homes, and the type of life that one would want if one could win the lottery.

Anyway, along the way we saw bullocks (that's young bulls without their bollocks), horses, sheep, and more pheasants that you could ever shake a stick at.

We decided to stop and have lunch on the other side of the fence from those young "nipped in the bud" bulls. Krip, with his usual live and let live attitude, kept saying we would be fine; however, I was a bit uneasy over this particular situation. There were so many of them, and only kept at bay by a very flimsy barbed-wire fence. Thank God, I decided that we would have butter and jam, instead of the original roast-beef sandwiches that I had thought of bringing. Something tells me that they may have been just a bit touchy if we had been eating their kith and kin.

We were climbing this hill when I suddenly remembered that I had climbed the same damn hill before. That first time found me swearing that I if I found myself climbing that hill again, it would be too soon. A year was too soon. Now I have decided that, I never, ever want to see that hill again!

I have to admit though, the views were spectacular from the top.

I tell you what though, it was worth all the aches and pains just to see that stoopid dog of ours to finally be really, truly pooped.

To say we all three slept like the dead last night would be an understatement.

It was a long-ass walk

We went on a 10.8 mile walk today. I will write about it tomorrow. Too damn knackered to write about it now.

Oh, my aching feet.

The excitement is killing me

WooHoo!! After eight and one-half hours of watching cricket today, I am so excited....



we are now watchin....







golf!

Damn, what a lucky girl am I. Hmmm, don't think so.

Dullsville

Don't you just hate it when you can't think of a damn thing to write about? I can't think of one thing, not even one whit.

And don't you just hate it when you pick up a book to read it, only to find out you've already read it? That has happened to me several times this weekend. Urghhh!

Don't even ask me if I'm tired of watching cricket. Right now, I could watch golf, tennis, a 500 mile car race around a circular track, and the dullest baseball game all at once, and not be any more bored than I am right now.

Blaaahhh.

Wouldn't want to be in his shoes

I do believe that my darling,Krip, might be in a bit of a quandry. Since it's sunny in our little corner of Kent, he can't decide whether to go play golf after he gets off work, or since it's the second day of the fourth round of The Ashes, should he stay home and watch.

Any scenerio he chooses will be the wrong one. Because if Krip decides to play golf, then England will have one of the greatest days in the history of cricket. If Krip doesn't go play golf and decides to stay put instead, it will be one of the dullest days in the history of cricket.

I know what you're thinking. If Krip decides to go play golf and leaves me in charge of watching and making sure all's well for England during the game would be like asking a new medical student on just their second week of classes to perform heart surgery. The responsibility would be just too great for the poor student.

Well, that holds double for me.

"...am i bovvered?"

Two of my very favorite shows had their last programs of the series last night.
Ricky Gervais's Extras has been picked up by the BBC for next year, and so hopefully, we will see the return of The Catherine Tate show also. I love all her characters, but Nan is the best. Nan is the typical old lady, all sweetness and light, but you know when the other character leaves the set, Nan is going to screech obscenities to the high heavens. What a hoot!

Unbovvered Lauren (played by Tate) accusing her teacher of lusting after Graham Norton:
Teacher,"...You don't even know what homophobic means.."
Lauren, "...I don't need to..I ain't gay.."

Another two great shows biting the dust until next year.

Hello...

No, he's not what I saw taking Barney, our dog, to the wood. However, I did gaze upon a great little piece of eye-candy, with just enough tan to look heathy, working at a construction site nearby.

Thank you, whoever you were, you certainly put a smile in my mind.

Today in history

1814 British capture and burn Washington

During the War of 1812, British forces under General Robert Ross overwhelm American militiamen at the Battle of Bladensburg, Maryland, and march unopposed into Washington, D.C. Most congressmen and officials fled the nation's capital as soon as word came of the American defeat, but President James Madison and his wife, Dolley, escaped just before the invaders arrived.

fast forward to two days later...

On August 26, General Ross, realizing his untenable hold on the capital area, ordered a withdrawal from Washington.



You, Brits, must have learned a valuable lesson; which is, Washington, D.C. is no place you want to be during the dog days of summer.

Hoppin' johns

Last night I fixed Krip one of my favorite meals: southern fried chicken, rice and black-eyed peas. Lordy! was it yummy! He's come to lurve my chicken, as he should. Anyway, I decided to put some pazzazz into the black-eyed peas, so I crumpled up some bacon on top and added....Tabasco Sauce.

And I didn't tell him.

24 August 2005
This is an addendum to my post from yesterday. Polly wanted to know what black-eyed peas were, so here is a picture just for him:

Amazing what you can find out in books

I'm reading the book by Dean Koontz, The Face. I haven't read one of Mr. Koontz's books in quite a while. To say it's a bit strange, I suppose would be an understatement. It's also a bit scary. Not a "horror" book like Stephen King would write, but scary as in parts of it it could happen scary. That's why I don't particularly like King's books. As scary as he wants them to be, it couldn't happen and that's why I find them not scary at all. Now Tabitha King is a different story all together, she writes stories that seem so, so real, and that does scare the living daylights out of me. The Trap comes to mind for me. I was living in Maine when that book came out, and where all the action in the novel took place. Now that book was terrifying in my eyes.

But, as usual, I'm digressing.

Anyway, the boy-character in The Face thrives on trival type of knowledge and in the beginning of the book he was discussing a place called the Tuvalu Islands and mentioned that the islands' major crops were coconuts and copra. I thought at first that this was all made up, so I got on the trusty internet, and lo and behold!! There are islands named that and copra is a real product of it.

The islands celebrated their 25th Anniversary of Independence on October 1, 2003, from, well, guess where...Great Britain! Well, you could have knocked me over with a feather with that information. I honestly wonder how many Brits even know that the Tuvalu Islands were once part of their mighty has-been empire.

Well, damn, I said to myself. If you don't learn something new everyday.

No more firm buttocks

With interest I read in today's newspaper an article written about Madonna falling off a horse. More precisely, it was about falling off horses in general. Unfortunately for Madonna, even though she had all the right gear on and looked quite smart in it; had the horse, which incidently was loaned to her, she hadn't a clue what to do with it. Having several lessons does not make one qualify as an expert rider. Or, as in Madonna's case a horsewoman of the genteel class.

I, myself, have owned two horses. One was a Five-Gaited Saddlebred named Cody, and the other was a Three-Gaited Standardbred named BJ. I was actually taught to ride on Cody; I rode him for five years. As much as I loved him, I knew that he was just too much horse for me. I seemed to be aging and he seemed to remain young and spirited. I hurt myself badly riding him. And even though, over time, I had fallen off of him only two or three times, thankfully, I never did break any bones. However, my last fall found me managing to pull and cause stress fractures in all my back muscles that to this day still leaves me with a twinge or two at times.

Because of this, I sold Cody to a rider who knew how to handle him, and bought BJ. She was a dream, but you know? It took me quite a long time to fully trust myself on even her after that. I was always afraid that I would hurt my back again. I was no longer a confident rider. I was always apprehensive about going beyond a canter or trot. As for BJ's part, she really never wanted to go beyond a canter or trot either, so we were a match made in heaven. We both appreciated the leisurely pace of just strolling. BJ seemed to be able to read my mind, to know exactly what I wanted, and that my friends is a gifted horse. The day I had to sell her to move here to England was not a happy one, I must admit.

And so my days of galloping across fields are definitely over. My back has paid a huge price for that. Maybe somewhere out there there is a horse with my name on it. A nice gentle very old giant just for me. We can amble into the sunset together. Both being retired from the same thing...riding fast and loose.

Friday funny

Click for story behind photo.

"Calls to Cindy’s PR agency on whether or not the sandwich was actually made on Jewish rye went unanswered."

Many thanks to Sharp as a Marble for a great laugh over a sorry state of affairs.

What a hoot!

Pretty cool

Well, I did it! Went to my very first cricket match. It was the Lashings - vs - Rainham Cricket Club (dutifully correcting myself, Krip). The Lashings are a retired pro team that travels around England playing various townie cricket clubs. I suppose the closest type of thing I can come up with would be like the Harlem Globe Trotters playing a townie in a basketball game, but they didn't do a bunch of stupid tricks and stuff. Although, you could definitely tell who were the pros and who weren't. The score turned out to be 270 - 175.

The game was a 20-20 match. Another words, I learned they played 20 overs. After watching the game, I'm beginning to understand overs. Overs are kinda like innings in baseball. When the bowler throws the ball to the batsman six times, that's considered an over. Since they virtually play with two batsmen, running back and forth between the wickets, they have two bowlers bowling (not at the same time, mind you). Bowler 1 bowls (right to left) six times and then he leaves the pitch, and Bowler 2 comes on and bowls to the batsman (left to right). It's done 20 times, or 10 times in one direction and 10 times in the other. And it's done all at once. Another words, at the end of the 20 overs, that's your score, and the other team has to try to beat that score. So unlike baseball, all your overs (innings) are done in one big clump.

The weather was beautiful, the crowd was jovial sitting on the ground in a circle around the field, and the players seemed to have a great time. So overall it was a grand time. I do have to say that, like baseball, you could do an awful lot of reading, knitting, whatever; and still be able to follow what was happening. The only thing you had to follow was where the ball was traveling, making sure that it wasn't headed anywhere in your direction, especially the grounders.

I asked Krip if all the games was like this, and he said the next game we went to would probably consist of the two teams, us, and a man and his dog.

Hmmm, I think I will probably take my book.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder

This is Sam. The World's Ugliest Dog for three years running. And without a doubt,unless he has a twin out there somewhere, Sam will be the ugliest dog next year too.

I'm sorry, but I just can't picture him cuddling up to me in bed, can you? He looks like something out of Gremlins, doesn't he?

Sam, you are one ugly pooch.

'Um, batter up...I think

Krip and I are going to a cricket game huh, match today after he gets home from work. I think I'm excited.

And, I know I'm not supposed to do this (because Krip is constantly telling me so), but I still equate cricket to baseball. I know, I know before my British bloggers start screaming at me, it's not anything like baseball. We throw the ball, they bowl the ball (but not like bowling down an alley, it's being thrown in the air and then has one bounce), and it's the wickets that count, but then it's outs that count in baseball. Both games do use bats, the wooden kind, not the flying kind. And we both do run, when the players manage to hit the damn ball. And...both can be very dull in between the periods of excitement.

So, yes, cricket is not like baseball, but it's the only game I can come up with that's anywhere remotely similiar - but not. This here is becoming my bible on cricket. It is an American translation of a basically British game, by an American, for Americans, who want to even remotely understand the game of cricket.

I do realize that it's not rocket science, and one of these days, I will be able to stop thinking like an American and start thinking like a Brit, at least where the game of cricket is concerned.

Hmm, maybe there's hope for me yet.

**"Just dropped in to see what condition my condition was in"**

So all day long I have been playing music that I have downloaded, what a treasure-trove of memories I have dug up. Right now I am listening to Sam Cooke; dreamy, is all I can describe his Blue Moon.

Wish I could figure out my musical taste. I have managed, at least for now, to narrow down a field of 243 songs that I like, and some frankly I really love. I really like Free Bird by Lynard Skynard, White Rabbit by Jefferson Airplane, and Led Zepplin's Stairway to Heaven; however, Harry Chapin's Mr. Tanner and A Better Place To Be really makes me want to cry. I really can't think of any Harry Chapins songs that I don't like; but those two are my absolute favorites of his.

Here is where I become a little irratic in my favorites: I love Mike and the Mechanics, The Living Years and yet I really like Merle Haggard's Okie From Muskogee...weird right?

Not weird enough for you?

Okay, so how about Waylon Jennings' Lucille and The Doors' The End; or The Kinks' Lola and Randy Newman's Short People. If those selections don't rock your socks, here are really two zingers...
Roger Whittaker's For You Are Beautiful and Steppenwolf's The Pusher.

Hmmm, wondering if music is like glancing Through the Looking Glass of one's life.



**Can anyone guess who sang the song that's the title of this entry?**

Sweet sound of the school bell

Today is my youngest first real day of starting Fifth Grade (her Sixth, for those in the UK). Yesterday was a half-a-day, more of an orientation day, since she has entered "Middle School" now. I think she was a bit overwhelmed before yesterday. You know, lockers, changing classes, having to wear a uniform for P.E, having an advisor, etc. However, she saw all her classmates yesterday, and found out that all of them are in the same boat, so she is much more relaxed about it. They put them in groups, and my little one is in Group White.

Naturally, her being the smallest in her class, the powers that be gave her a top locker. Go figure.

That scenerio lasted about five minutes.

Hmmm, speaking about books

Have you ever been reading a book and since the very first you could swear you've read the book before? That's how it's been for me with the one I am reading now. And yet, even though I seem to know what sentence is going to come next I can't, for the life of me, remember the ending of said book.

Strange.

What's the odds

Since, both Krip and I are such avid readers, we decided it was about time we cruise down to the library, get a library card, and start checking out books from there instead of buying books all the time.

So yesterday, we piled into the car and fought the traffic to go down to do just that. We arrived at the library all giddy, expecting to be able to run rampid through all the shelves of glorious books, knowing that the only problem we would have would be deciding exactly which books we wanted to read in a 28 day period.

Right?

Wrong.

First question out of our mouths, when we arrived was:

"May we get a library card?"

"Oh, sorry. Not today, our computers are down."

Bummer.

Losing their wicket

We were supposed to be at today's The Ashes cricket match. Unfortunately, there was a glitch in the scheduling, so we couldn't make it. Friends of ours are there tho, sittin' in the stands...just waiting. Why? It's been raining all morning in Manchester.

Krip has been walking around with a sorry-ass grin on his face since 10 a.m.

Note worthy

We have found a site (and I know there are many of these sites) where you can download music from zillions and zillions of tunes. It's funny, because once you start remembering songs from your youth, all these titles and artists come flooding back into your memory like a dam has broken. So far I have racked up more than sixty tunes.

I'm also finding that the music I have come to love over the years (and more years) are quite ecliptic; anywhere from Jefferson Airplane, Iron Butterfly, to Randy Newman, Eddie Cochran, Led Zepplin, Grateful Dead, to Steve Miller Band, ZZ Top, Alman Brothers, the Eagles, to Stepphenwolf, Leon Russell, Carol King, to Jimmy Buffett, and beyond.
I had a lot of fun downloading yesterday. It was rather like going shopping, but I didn't have to flash any money, credit cards, or carry a load of bags.

I'm in tune heaven.

I'm so bored

My baby's gone. Flew away until Christmas.
Krip is watching the cricket match.

What to do. What to do.

Muddy Waters' ain't got nuthin' o'er me

My youngest is flying back to the States to be with my ex tomorrow. She is starting back to school on Monday. I'm startin' to enter into the mode of Bluesville right now. I think I will be residing in Bluesville for the next couple of days.

No more trippin' over tenner shoes and flip flops.
No more "Mom, what can I have to eat!!"
No more "Ouch! You're pulling my hair!"
No more dirty clothes on the floor.
No more wet towels left on the bed.
No more Chatty-Cathy all day long.
No more "I'm bored."
No more extra laundry to be washed.
No more "You've got to go to bed now, young lady!"
No more dirty dishes and empty soda cans havin' to be picked up.

Now we can have the computer anytime we want it.
Now we can play on the Playstation anytime we want to.
Now we have the television back.
Now no more junk food in the house.
Now food and electricity bills will go down and balance in checkbook up.
Now our house will be back to being spotless with no clutter.

Sigh....Boy, I'm sure gonna miss my darlin' girl.

Our computer's a bitch

I think our computer might be going through, at the very least PMS; at the most, menopause. When it's doing what it's suppose to do, like not freeze up, it's being wonderful. Lately, it's being a total bitch.

It's one thing to freeze up once in a while, but five or six times a day? Talk about playing games. Here you think you are just typing along just fine; or visiting your friends in blogland; or in the case of my youngest, spending 30 minutes working on some artwork, only to have the computer freeze.

It's rather daunting to have a machine say to you, "F*ck it! I'm not in the mood today." And no matter how you try, you just can't get it to stay in the mood, if and when you finally manage to get it in the mood. Our computer's a bitch, if I've ever seen one.

Oh my God! I'm almost giddy that the computer has allowed me to get this far this a.m. Probably because I have saved this little post to draft twice now, and it's only waiting until I try to actually post it.

Hmmm...don't know, let's see.

Fun day had by all

We took my youngest to Legoland today. We managed to keep it a surprise all week. Told her we were going to Hastings, which we will next summer. Was she surprised when she saw the sign pointing the way.

It was fun surprising her. She had been looking forward to going all last school year, and we had planned on taking her before the kids here got out of school. We nixed the idea when we got back from the States because a) we didn't think we would have the time, and b) the crowds, we knew would be horrendous. Well we made the time, and even though it was crowded, by getting there when it opened, we were able to go on the rides that we really wanted to without standing in line too long.

I think Krip enjoyed the rides as much as my youngest. We are tired and burnt, but it was worth it.

Next year, Alton Towers is on the top of our list.

Phffffffff or Oh My God!

How's this for a Monday starter:



Cherie for MP, says Clinton
By Brendan Carlin, Political Correspondent

Cherie Blair should stand as an MP when her husband leaves the Commons, Bill Clinton suggested yesterday.

The former US president offered to campaign for Mrs Blair if she decided to stand for election after Mr Blair leaves Downing Street.

"She is an enormously able person. I love her," said Mr Clinton,...more here if you can stand to read it

Trolly pushers

One of the places that I am getting so that I absolutely detest going to is the supermarket. I don't know why, but here in our part of England, going to the supermarket seems to be the favorite outing for just about everybody on Friday, Saturdays, and Sundays. I have never seen supermarkets quite as popular a place, unless it's stocking up for a blizzard when I lived up North or a hurricane when I lived in Florida. Here it's a weekly thing, a real family affair.

Friday, the noise was deafening. There was this one kid, who was able to reach that one note that can send a sane person right around the bend. I can't figure out how she was able to maintain that note for so long; but she did. Then we had the kids that thought that the isles were a great place for playing tag or hide-n-seek. Felt so sorry for the old folks slowly pushing their carts around. By the looks of their teetering and tottering, I knew that they would be the last people we would want to get behind while driving home.

The supermarket is just about the only place where you can go into with a sunny disposition and leave wanting to shoot everybody in sight. There is a word for it, it's called going postal, it certainly applied to me by the time we left.

Maybe that's why I send Krip most of the time. He is a curmudgeon all of the time, so is able to take it all in stride.

Moi...weird?

You Are 30% Weird

Not enough to scare other people... But sometimes you scare yourself.

How Weird Are You?

Burp....awwww

H.S. Coach Reprimanded For Licking Players' Bleeding Wounds

BEND, Ore. -- An Oregon high school teacher has gotten a tongue-lashing for his wound-licking.

Oregon's teacher standards board has voted to publicly reprimand the science teacher and football coach, who was accused of licking the bleeding wounds of several students.

The board also voted to place Scott Reed on two years' probation.

Reed agreed with the "stipulated facts" of the case: that he licked blood from wounds on a runner's knee, a football player's arm, and another student's hand.

It's not clear why he licked the wounds. But several students said it seemed like Reed was "just joking around."

The county sheriff investigated the case last year, and no charges were filed. The sheriff called the behavior "bizarre" but not criminal.

Reed resigned this spring as a track coach, but remains the school's football coach and dean of students.

He will be attending a class on the risks of blood-borne pathogens.

I think he should be attending more than just a class on blood-borne pathogens. This guy needs to take a serious look at some counseling.

Weird.

It figures

My youngest and I were standing out in the garden, peering up at the sky, and the conversation went like this:

"What do you see?"

"Rain clouds."

"And why do you think there are rain clouds?"

"Because they want to be there?"

"Nope."

"Because it was forecasted rain?"

"Nope."

"Because there is moisture in the air and it's going up into the clouds?"

"Nope."

"Um, because you have all the sheets and towels out on the line?"

"Bingo."

Speedy Gonzales...I'm not

Thursdays are 'wash linens day.' So naturally, I got up really early this morning to get them all washed and out on the line. I love the smell of towels and sheets that have been dried outside.

I have since changed the towels in the bathroom, and changed the bed linens. And bed linens are what I want to talk about.

Duvets.

I am not used to duvets. We, Americans, tend to have a bottom sheet, a top sheet, a blanket (if needed), and a quilt or bedspread. My Englishman prefers a duvet; so our bed consists of a bottom sheet and duvet inside a pocket of another sheet, which is fastened by buttons or snaps at the bottom.

For me, the pocket sheet is a bitch to get on over the duvet. I have done the inside-out method; I have done the start at the corners and crawled upwards method; I have even, more or less, done the crawl inside with the duvet method. But to no avail. After two years, it still takes me twice as long to put the damn duvet in the sheet pocket as it does making a bed with a bottom sheet, top sheet, blanket (if needed) and a quilt or bedspread.

Since I have been practicing now for almost almost 104 weeks, which makes it almost 104 times, I am a bit faster than I was the first time. Maybe by this time next year, I will be even quicker.

It's so nice to have something to strive for. Don'tcha think?

Common is as common does

I decided to check out "Next Blog," you know the little button on the top right corner of Blogger? Well, anyway, my first hit belonged to this guy's blog. He wrote about getting spammed. The funny thing is, is that an anonymous commenter was from a spammer. In fact, it was ps3.

And can you guess which spammer commented on my blog? The same spammer that commented on his, saying the exact same thing. Bet he says that line to all the blogs he comes in contact with. And there I was thinking I was something special in his eyes.

Twat

A tale of two crimes

I have two scenerios for what is being considered a racial crime (hate crime) for my U.S. bloggers that have happened this week here in England. What I want you to do is to guess which one is the racial crime, hence being plastered all over the front pages of the newspapers and every night is given notice as a news item on network news,and which one is being virtually ignored.

It happened to two young men this week during the evening.

One is a young black guy, waiting at a bus stop with his white girlfriend and some others (friends and relatives). Two white guys came out of a pub and started harrassing the black guy. The black guy moved with his girlfriend and others to another bus stop. The white guys who were harrassing them followed; left, and then came back and killed the black guy with an axe to the head.

The same week, a young white guy was riding up top a double-decker bus with his girlfriend. A black guy started throwing food at the guy's girlfriend as well as other passengers. The other passengers moved away, so the black guy continued to throw food at the white guy's girlfriend. The white guy got up to stop the black guy from throwing anymore food at his girlfriend, and was stabbed through the heart by the black guy.

Now, not taking away from either one of the killings, murders actually, only one is being hailed as a racial crime. One has been announced as a murder, the other a killing.

One has had his picture on the front page all this past week, interviews with the pastor of his church, friends, relatives; and we have all gotten to know what a wonderful son, brother, friend he was. The other got a mention, with a small head shot, on the second page, and about a 10 second blip on the radar screen the next night on the nightly news. Neither the paper nor the nightly news ever mentioned what color his killer had been.

So, dear readers, have you figured out which one is the racial crime and which was just an ordinary, um, murder?

To me they are both dead. Murdered by strangers for no apparent reason, but for the hell of it. Both sets of murderers were looking for a victim. Both sets harrassed until they finally killed they're said victims.

So why is one virtually ignored as a poor sod who got murdered?
And the other a virtual hero for being a poor sod who got murdered?

Oh, no, I'm IT

See, there is this "thing" going around. Kind of like playing tag, and if you are really lucky, you can be considered...IT. Well I've been tagged and now I'm it (so to speak). The game is all about books, and I was "tagged" by sparkey.

So here goes:

The number of books I own: Oh, I don't know, lots and lots, and lots...

The last book I bought: Actually, I went to a used bookstore when I was in North Carolina, and I bought four books (the only amount I could fit in my luggage). They are: Darkness, Take My Hand and Sacred by Dennis Lehane; and I bought two by Elmore Leonard, Out of Sight and Tishomingo BLUES.

The Books I like: Well, it isn't so much the books I like, it's the authors I like. I have read many books by many authors, but here are a few that I trust to come through with a good story:
Robert Ludlum; the Bourne Identity is one of my favorites. Remember reading it when it first came out in 1980. Len Deighton's Hook, Line, and Sinker series is one of my all time favorites. I also like James Patterson, Dennis Lehane, and Tom Clancey. These are just a few, I know, but I'm running low on fuel right now.

As far as proper books go, I really liked 1984 and Animal Farm by George Orwell; and Lord of the Flies by William Golding. I also loved reading as a kid, Charles Dickens, especially, David Copperfield, and A Tale of Two Cities. I know that there are many more than I can think of now, but age is catching up with me (as I'm writing this, I might add), and I'm starting to draw a blank.

The last book I read: The Killing Ground by Gerald Seymour. This was one of about five of his books that I read in a row.

And just in case you care to know, I am now reading The Straw Men by Michael Marshall, a new author for me, but so far so good.

There, I'm done. Just want you all to know that it drove me absolutely nuts trying to remember the book, Lord of the Flies. I could see the book, I remembered the story, but damn if the title escaped me (we'll not even mention remembering the author).
However, eureka!!! Where there is a will, there's a way.

Good ol' jeeves.

Nothing new to see here folks, move along now

Last night and the night before and the night before that, and on and on, we have been bombarded with nightly reports on the starving children of Nigers. Now please, don't get me wrong, I can see, through the lenses of the television camera that children are starving. And just to make sure that I am seeing what I am seeing a newsperson is making sure that what I am seeing is actually true.

Babies and children are starving in Nigers.

Really.

News flash, children in Nigers and many other parts of Africa have been dying of starvation forever.

This is what gets my knickers in a twist. While the some folks at least in Nigers are begging for aid from the West; which of course means, the U.K., Europe, the U.S.A, and all other parts known as the West, there are people "right around the corner that could give them food."

Yes, I heard it right last night on the news, and you read it right. There are farmers in the same country that have all the food that these starving children need, but since it would take approximately 40 pence (roughly, 65-80 cents) a day for these children to eat, and the poor haven't got the money, the farmers won't give them the food that would feed these starving children. Instead, aid is coming from the West.

We are paying out from our pockets to send food to these children in Nigers because their own people, who have the food, won't share the food with their poor neighbors right around the corner. Exactly, how much sense does this make to you? Not much to me. It's not the fact that we are sending aid to these people that pisses me off, it's the fact that there are people in their own country that won't help them. That's deplorable in my eyes.

Doesn't charity begin at home?

I'll have another please

So, let me get this straight. The E.U. has banned all advertisements for cigarettes in auto racing, as well as all the other sporting events. All of which, does not surprise me since tobacco companies have long been the target to get. However, as far as racing goes, tobacco companies have been replace with advertising for some good ol' malt whiskey and/or any one for a little caffeine?

Now don't get me wrong. I love having a drink, or two, or three; huh...anyway, to me it's the fact that the world is starting to look down on tobacco as Darth Vadar healthwise, and yet is liquor and/or a caffeine drink which is basically speed in a can better for one's health?

So, I suppose that lung cancer is out and liver cancer is in.