"Mind how you go "

Dutch Health and Safety being its usual wet blanket-ty self , the limit on firework purchase per person has been set at 10 kilos . Hardly enough to make yourself heard over your neighbours . It's enough to make you get together with your buddies , pool your resources , and stuff the cache in a millk churn and set them all off at once , like dashing young lads do in the villages .

We 'll be at home , wearing earmuffs and circumspectly sipping a small sherry and avoiding the cholesterol -laden Olieballen ....

But wherever you are and however you'll be celebrating , I wish you a convivial New Year's Eve and a healthy , prosperous and very happy 2010 .

Be Careful What You S(w)ing at Christmas.

It's politically incorrect in these enlightened times to refer to "Eskimos" - even though that's what they call themselves, for Goodness sake.   Soooooo . . . a certain seasonal verse needs to be rewritten.

"Chestnuts roasting on an open fire

Jack Frost nips your norty bits.

Yuletide carols being sung by the choir

And folk dressed up like Innuits"

There.! That'll keep the PC Nazis quiet.  Lord knows what they'll make of the picture . . 

Happy Christmas and awesome New Year to all super Soupers.

(Jinksy's assistance in preparation of the artwork was invaluable.)

to kindle or not to kindle ....

i'd been wondering about the desirability of a kindle for a while . not in a full-on must-have sort of way .... it was more a sort of vague ponder .
i thought , when i flew back from england a couple of weeks ago and watched fellow travellers with theirs , that it seemed so neat , somehow , compared to my fat , gaudy paperback *.
the whole easy-jet scrummage for a seat and legroom completed , i settled in and hauled the , by now , rather dog-eared novel out and read on . the doors shut , all gadgets had to be switched off and the up to the minute reading public had to twiddle their thumbs for ten minutes until we were airborne , when they could pick up where they'd left off .... before the life-jacket demonstration in two languages , exhortations to buy duty free and to enjoy a speedy cocktail with a toasted sandwich .....and read on until the pilot announced that we were coming in to amsterdam . schiphol has to be the airport with the longest approach in the world and we circled and meandered up and down runways for another twenty minutes , gadgets switched off , while i read another chapter or two . so , grand total kindle-reading time = twenty minutes on the forty-five minute flight and my decision was made for me . i didn't need one .
until wednesday , when i fell off my bike and comprehensively broke my left wrist . now , what i could just do with is a little tablet-form gadget with page after page of almost any book of my choice , easily scroll-downable with one hand .
*and what was i reading? i'd be mortified if you found out .... let's just say 2-for-one and "dark secrets" ... though , in my defence , it did say "well written and subtle" , too .

Party?

I want to put on a holiday party. I want to prepare a buffet table with silver dishes set among swirls of sparkle-and-glitter gold tulle. Here and there in the artfully gathered tulle between the silver serving dishes, there would be ornaments...

I want the dishes to be filled with easily served and eaten rich foods of puff pastry and lots of spices and colors. I want there to be sweetmeats and sugarplums (whatever those items are). The table would be so full of beautiful things, edible and inedible, that there would be sighs of awe and murmured wishes not to disturb the splendor.

I would like the guests to be dressed beautifully in the kind of holiday evening attire that one wears only between the middle of December and the middle of January. I want the women [and whichever men feel so inclined] to be made up beautifully, and wearing jewel colors, and I want the [other] men to wear ties and be so freshly shaven that the planes of their jaws shine smooth. I want the conversation to be witty and intelligent and I would like everyone to drink enough alcohol to sparkle but not enough to become stupid or clumsy. I want there to be enough seating that there is none of the awkward juggling of plates that accompanies buffets everywhere, but I want the guests to be mobile as well, circulating and sparkling and chatting and being amusing and amused.
I would like background music (unobtrusive Christmas carols and hymns) and lighting with dimmer switches. And lots of white candles in various sizes and shapes and groupings.

I have never attended such a party in my life, much less hosted one. And I don't want to host this one.
I want to set it up, to cater it, and then to sit back and watch.
And then I would like to go home and let somebody else clean up.
It would be my own little stage set, wouldn't it?

Vignettes of French Life

Even if your French is rusty, I’m sure you’ll get the gist of this  this little advert, displayed this week in the local paper. 

I expect that Saint Sylvester would have had something to say about being celebrated in such a fashion.  Me, I tend to ring in the New Year in more conventional ways, if at all.   

And the French tendency to borrow from English and do their own thing with it is always entertaining, but Fasylove takes the cake. 

Hello Again

Amendments duly made, as per Doctor FTSE's observations, and Fran's words. As promised, the closing date for captions will be Monday, but I hope the snowfall I've already sent to various parts of Blogland will just about cover it - if you see what I mean! Hehehe!

Hello?

I Have A Feeling...

I should hold my hand up to this! Okay, Friko - let rip...I deserve all you can give me...

No Words Necessary

LATE EDITION. Okay - so words ARE needed. For non-Brits, an explanation may be found in the comments below..

Travelling Light

A lot of Dutch people have a rail card , which , for about 60 Euros annually , entitles them to a 40% discount on all off peak travel by train . Recently it has been possible to change it into a Smart Card for public transport with an inbuilt electronic purse ( rather like an Oyster card , but country-wide) .
Take up has been good but a few diehards , like Husband , haven't got round to it . Hence various ad campaigns , extolling the carefree ease of being able just to hop on a train without queueing for a ticket . This morning he got a card from the train company , reminding him just how an OV-chipkaart would simplify his every journey ....


He's not convinced .

The Saturday Snicker, two days late.

 

 

To the citizens of the United States of America from Her Sovereign Majesty Queen Elizabeth II

Email from the Queen - an important announcement regarding the USA

In light of your immediate failure to financially manage yourselves, your constant warmongering and also in recent years your tendency to elect incompetent Presidents of the USA and therefore not able to govern yourselves, we hereby give notice of the revocation of your independence, effective immediately. (You should look up 'revocation' in the Oxford English Dictionary.)
Her Sovereign Majesty Queen Elizabeth II will resume monarchical duties over all states, commonwealths, and territories (except Kansas, which she does not fancy).Your new Prime Minister, David Cameron, will appoint a Governor for America without the need for further elections.Congress and the Senate will be disbanded. A questionnaire may be circulated sometime next year to determine whether any of you noticed.
To aid in the transition to a British Crown dependency, the following rules are introduced with immediate effect:
1. The letter 'U' will be reinstated in words such as 'colour,' 'favour,' 'labour' and 'neighbour.' Likewise, you will learn to spell 'doughnut' without skipping half the letters, and the suffix '-ize' will be replaced by the suffix '-ise.' Generally, you will be expected to raise your vocabulary to acceptable levels. (look up 'vocabulary').
------------------------
2. Using the same twenty-seven words interspersed with filler noises such as ''like' and 'you know' is an unacceptable and inefficient form of communication. There is no such thing as U.S.English. We will let Microsoft know on your behalf. The Microsoft spell-checker will be adjusted to take into account the reinstated letter 'u'' and the elimination of '-ize.'
-------------------
3. July 4th will no longer be celebrated as a holiday.
-----------------
4. You will learn to resolve personal issues without using guns, lawyers, or therapists. The fact that you need so many lawyers and therapists shows that you're not quite ready to be independent. Guns should only be used for shooting grouse. If you can't sort things out without suing someone or speaking to a therapist, then you're not ready to shoot grouse.
----------------------
5. Therefore, you will no longer be allowed to own or carry anything more dangerous than a vegetable peeler. Although a permit will be required if you wish to carry a vegetable peeler in public.
----------------------
6. All intersections will be replaced with roundabouts, and you will start driving on the left side with immediate effect. At the same time, you will go metric with immediate effect and without the benefit of conversion tables. Both roundabouts and metrication will help you understand the British sense of humour.
--------------------
7. The former USA will adopt UK prices on petrol (which you have been calling gasoline) of roughly $10/US gallon. Get used to it.
-------------------
8. You will learn to make real chips. Those things you call French fries are not real chips, and those things you insist on calling potato chips are properly called crisps. Real chips are thick cut, fried in animal fat, and dressed not with catsup but with vinegar.
-------------------
9. The cold, tasteless stuff you insist on calling beer is not actually beer at all. Henceforth, only proper British Bitter will be referred to as beer, and European brews of known and accepted provenance will be referred to as Lager. New Zealand beer is also acceptable, as New Zealand is pound for pound the greatest sporting nation on earth and it can only be due to the beer. They are also part of the British Commonwealth - see what it did for them. American brands will be referred to as Near-Frozen Gnat's Urine, so that all can be sold without risk of further confusion.
---------------------
10. Hollywood will be required occasionally to cast English actors as good guys. Hollywood will also be required to cast English actors to play English characters. Watching Andie Macdowell attempt English dialogue in Four Weddings and a Funeral was an experience akin to having one's ears removed with a cheese grater.
---------------------
11. You will cease playing American football. There are only two kinds of proper football; one you call soccer, and rugby (dominated by the New Zealanders). Those of you brave enough will, in time, be allowed to play rugby (which has some similarities to American football, but does not involve stopping for a rest every twenty seconds or wearing full kevlar body armour like a bunch of nancies).
---------------------
12. Further, you will stop playing baseball. It is not reasonable to host an event called the World Series for a game which is not played outside of America. Since only 2.1% of you are aware there is a world beyond your borders, your error is understandable. You will learn cricket, and we will let you face the Australians (World dominators) first to take the sting out of their deliveries.
--------------------
13. You must tell us who killed JFK. It's been driving us mad.
-----------------
14. An internal revenue agent (i.e. tax collector) from Her Majesty's Government will be with you shortly to ensure the acquisition of all monies due (backdated to 1776).
---------------
15. Daily Tea Time begins promptly at 4 p.m. with proper cups, with saucers, and never mugs, with high quality biscuits (cookies) and cakes; plus strawberries (with cream) when in season.
God Save the Queen!

Learning to bake a cake?

Forget it! Or take your Mum to the shop.

West Mercia Police will crack down hard on any youngsters seen with a box of eggs or a bag of flour. And if you try to plead ignorance and say you don't know what they are, they've even drawn you a helpful picture!

Still giving it the eye at 89

Conversation with Granny in hospital this afternoon:

Hi Granny - oh, they've moved you down the end of the ward!  Looking forward to going home next week?

No, I'm not.  I like it here.


Oh, that's strange.  Thought you said you wanted to go home. You were desperate to get home last week.  What's changed?

Nothing.  Nothing's changed.

FIVE MINUTES LATER.

I can see through that window now they've moved me to this bed.  I can see straight into the male ward.


Ah.  Things are a little clearer to me now, Gran....

The Saturday Snicker

 

"Sit" And "Heel" Is No Longer Enough

Already on the warpath over the non-payment of dog-tax , our Town Hall has found another jokey photo . This time for its anti-dog-poop crusade

So , if you're planning a move to Leeuwarden , please first make sure that Rex , Buster or Missy-woo can wield a rake and shovel . After all , if they get really handy at it , they can get a job with the Parks Dept. and pay their own tax .

A Sister’s Eulogy

 

The posting of a link to this wonderful piece may be redundant.  After all, her brother was known to many and her eulogy will be flashed around the world millions of times.  But if you haven’t heard of it, you really should read it. 

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/10/30/opinion/mona-simpsons-eulogy-for-steve-jobs.html?_r=2&pagewanted=all?src=tp

On The Other Hand…

Vignettes of French Life (#12)

On the A8 south to Hyères, near Toulon. 

You might think that these old things can’t cope with the autoroute, but we had only just passed one tootling along in the slow lane. 

Furthermore,  I am convinced that anyone who drives a 2CV is eminently trustworthy. 

Flowers!

I think most of us live in the northern hemisphere,
so this (click it!) will be oh-so-welcome about this time of year. 

It certainly raised my spirits!

Flowers!

Born to get shot...

I used to work with a woman who acquainted me with the saying, "If you're born to get shot, you won't get hung." It fit, and possibly somewhat formed, since I was in my early twenties at the time, my own fatalistic outlook.

And then there's the exception that makes one question the rule:

Gunshot victim crashes car

Updated 08:22 a.m., Monday, October 10, 2011

• 
  A car crashed into an iron fence on Union Street near the intersection of Nott 
  Terrace in Schenectady around 12:15 p.m. Oct. 9, 2011 and it was found 
  the driver had gunshot wounds from an altercation on Close Street 
  a short time before.

Read more: http://www.timesunion.com/local/article/Gunshot-victim-crashes-car-2210241.php#ixzz1aQODRlQz

VANDALS!

Puffball

Isn't it a wonderful specimen? 

It's as big as a football.

In fact, when I saw it yesterday, I thought it was a football.

Puffball smashed to Smithereens

When I came the same way today, this is what I found.

Why do people have to do this? It was probably an adult who stuck his stupid heel or walking stick into this beauty, there haven't been any kids round the castle for a few days; they're all back at school. I was looking forward to watching it ripen, hopefully intact, become overrun with a vast population of creepy-crawlies, its insides turning to dusty brown spores and exploding eventually. Now they've deprived me of a very simple pleasure. (I know, I know, I'm pathetic, but even the simple-minded like me must be allowed to take their pleasures where they find them.)

I could understand if somebody had cut it down and taken it home to fry in butter and eat it. But this is just wanton destruction. I am cross. Vandals!

Accident or Design?

A friend was telling me about a wonderful harvest festival he had attended, with contributions from the pupils of the local church endowed school. The vicar gave a lengthy reading about God's creation, and made it clear that the earth was little more than a ball of mud before God set to work.

The same friend then proceeded to promote the fact that the school had just enjoyed a very successful 'science week'. I'm guessing that for some children, the business of evolution remains as clear as, well...mud.

A Gentle Reminder

A gentle reminder , in the form of this card , was dropped through our letter boxes today . The Town Hall would really appreciate it if dog owners remembered to pay the local Dog Tax .
I think they'd have more luck if they sent this chap round in person .

What's in a Name?

The picture here is of some potatoes. They are of a variety that we have not grown before. I lifted them yesterday.  I presented them to my Infinitely Better Half, who said . . 

"Ah . . . I see why the variety is called  APACHE."

Do I need to spell it out?  Hope not!

Perhaps Not

Since I know that my fellow Fridge Soupers are always ready to give it a whirl ..... gastronomically , that is .... here is an amuse gueule from the Michelin-starred Ivy restaurant in Rotterdam

A cornet made of tomato and licorice , filled with picalilli ice-cream and topped with this year's Big Sensation , knettersuiker ( which is supposed to be a lot like that Moon Dust stuff that crackled in your mouth) .

Apparently , if you order the 11 course menu , you can expect little treats like this to pop up from time to time . Though , if you work your way right through the whole eleven courses , one or two other things might pop , too .

I had to, I’m sorry.

 

 

Better Than A Pea Brain?

Maybe scientists will one day come up with a Robot Blogger Brain, and we can all go away and live our own lives while the robots blog in our stead...

Is it just me?

I read a lot. This week I read a novel(*) passed to me by my Infinitely Better Half who judged it "quite a good story, but some of the plot contrivances strain one's ability to suspend disbelief, and definitely too wordy." (She's good at that sort of thing.)

In a scene where one of the female leads is submitting to love-making with her second husband for who she has no real affection, the author says - "Caroline noticed . . . the way her husband fought for breath, the way his eyes crossed as he neared his climax."

Now, perhaps it's just me, but I was incapacitated by hysterical laughter for a good 10 minutes, I kid you not, after reading that.

What do other Fridge Soupers think?  Ladies?

(*) "The Legacy" by Katherine Webb. Orion Books. Available from A**Z*N.  Pretty good reviews.

Vignettes of Canadian Life

 

Somehow when I think of a restful, meditative withdrawal from everyday life, this is not what comes to mind. 

Language

Just as some people are good with numbers and some (me!) are not, some people are good with words and some are not. I think it's genetic.
I know a woman who recently retired from a long professional career, who pronounces some words in oddly creative ways. They're words she's seen written on a page, but somehow she sees, and says, things that aren't there. 
She perks up peridot with not only an extra vowel, but an extra syllable, pronouncing it pair'-ee-o-do'. Something about the sound of it makes me want to square dance while wearing lots of pale green gemstones: Periodot and do-si-do!
Applying the same rule, the screening test for breast cancer becomes, in her mouth, mammy-o-gram, a pronunciation that thrusts into my mind a vision of Al Jolson on his knees delivering a singing telegram to me while I stand with part of my upper body clamped in a vise operated by Hattie McDaniel.
My acquaintance is not alone in her use of "unthaw," as in, "Oh drat! I forgot to take the turkey out of the freezer to unthaw. Now Christmas dinner will be three days late."
I've recently heard that from so many quarters that I predict that unthaw will become part of the language and will mean . . . thaw.

Vignettes of Canadian Life

Your best guess at what kind of a business this is, and no googling it first! 

At the Doctor

a pass along story that showed up in my email  -- hope it will be new to you all

   I was due for an appointment with the gynecologist later in the week. Early one morning, I received a call from the doctor's office to tell me that I had been rescheduled for that morning at 9:30 am.
 
   I had only just packed everyone off to work and school, and it was already around 8:45am. The trip to his office took about 35 minutes, so I didn't have any time to spare.
 
   As most women do, I like to take a little extra effort over hygiene when making such visits, but this time I wasn't going to be able to make the full effort.
 
   So, I rushed upstairs, threw off my pajamas, wet the washcloth that was sitting next to the sink, and gave myself a quick wash in that area to make sure I was at least presentable. I threw the washcloth in the clothes basket, donned some clothes, hopped in the car and raced to my appointment.
 
   I was in the waiting room for only a few minutes when I was called in.
 
    Knowing the procedure, as I'm sure you do, I hopped up on the table, looked over at the other side of the room and pretended that I was inParisor some other place a million miles away.
 
     I was a little surprised when the doctor said, "My, we have made an extra effort this morning, haven't we?" 
I didn't respond....
 
     After the appointment, I heaved a sigh of relief and went home. The rest of the day was normal. Some shopping, cleaning, cooking.
 
     After school when my 6 year old daughter was playing, she called out from the bathroom, "Mommy, where's my washcloth?"
 
      I told her to get another one from the cupboard.  She replied, "No, I need the one that was here by the sink, it had all my glitter and sparkles saved inside it."
 
Never going back to that doctor.  Ever

 

Equal Rights

A Dutch Do It Yourself chain is moving with the times and to prove this they've stuck this folder through our letterboxes .




Neither of us is naturally handy , so I was delighted to see that they were holding workshops . Marvellous ! I've always wanted to know how to put a washer on a tap or install a doorbell that rings . The possibilities for self improvement were , to be honest , endless so I quickly checked on line . Well , I don't know what our local branch has planned but others are already tempting the ladies with "Decorate A Letter With Wallpaper" , "Make Garlands With Soap" , "or "Make A Wooden Frame Yourself" . Not a spanner , slide rule or plumb line to be seen .
But rest assured , we won't feel neglected . There will be stalls with chocolates and jewellery , a beauty specialist and a stylist ... and everyone gets a goody bag to go home with . Can I have a How To folder and a couple of washers in mine ?

Oops!

did you hear the one about . . . . .

Two paddies were working for the city public works department.
One would dig a hole and the other would follow behind him and fill the hole in.

They worked up one side of the street, then down the other,
then moved on to the next street,
working furiously all day without rest,
one man digging a hole,
the other filling it in again.

An onlooker was amazed at their hard work,
but couldn't understand what they were doing.
So he asked the hole digger,

"I'm impressed by the effort you two are putting in to your work, but I don't get it -- why do you dig a hole, only to have your partner follow behind and fill it up again?"

The hole digger wiped his brow and sighed,

"Well, I suppose it probably looks odd because we're normally a three-person team.
But today the lad who plants the trees called in sick."



Any Irish readers who are now mortally offended may retaliate with a joke about any other nationality they care to choose.

I Thought It About Time...

Somebody lowered the tone...(if not the bar)

before this blog becomes too serious...

...... Or This One?

   
Never Argue with a Woman.

One morning, the husband returns the boat to their lakeside cottage after several hours of fishing and decides to take a nap.
                       
 Although not familiar with the lake, the wife decides to take the boat out.
               
 She motors out a short distance, anchors, puts her feet up, and begins to read her book..
                   
 The peace and solitude are magnificent.
 
 Along comes a Fish and Game Warden in his boat.
 
 He pulls up alongside the woman and says,
'Good morning, Ma'am. What are you doing?'  
                       
 'Reading a book,' she replies, (thinking, 'Isn't that obvious?')
 
 'You're in a Restricted Fishing Area,' he informs her.    
                       
 I'm sorry, officer, but I'm not fishing. I'm reading.'
                       
 'Yes, but I see you have all the equipment.  
   For all I know you could start at any moment.
   I'll have to take you in and write you up.'
 
  'If you do that, I'll have to charge you with sexual assault,' says the woman.
 
  'But I haven't even touched you,' says the Game Warden.

  'That's true, but you have all the equipment.  
  For all I know you could start at any moment.'
                      
  'Have a nice day ma'am,' and he left.
 
                       
   MORAL:      
   Never argue with a woman who reads.  
 
   It's likely she can also think.
 

Have you all seen this one?

After Quasimodo's death, the bishop of the Cathedral of Notre Dame sent word through the streets of Paris that a new bell ringer was needed.

The bishop decided that he would conduct the interviews personally and went up into the belfry to begin the screening process.

After observing several applicants demonstrate their skills, he had decided to call it a day.

Just then, an armless man approached him and announced that he was there to apply for the bell ringer's job. The bishop was incredulous.

'You have no arms !'

'No matter,' said the man. 'Observe !'

And he began striking the bells with his face, producing a beautiful melody on the carillon.

The bishop listened in astonishment; convinced he had finally found a replacement for Quasimodo.

But suddenly, as he rushed forward to strike the bell, the armless man tripped and plunged headlong out of the belfry window to his death in the street below.

The stunned bishop rushed down two hundred and ninety five church steps, when he reached the street, a crowd had gathered around the fallen figure, drawn by the beautiful music they had heard only moment before.

As they silently parted to let the bishop through, one of them asked,

'Bishop, who was this man ?'.

'I don't know his name,' the bishop sadly replied,



( scroll down )





' ................ BUT HIS FACE RINGS A BELL'



WAIT ! WAIT ! There's more


The following day, despite the sadness that weighed heavily on his heart due to the unfortunate death of the armless campanologist, the bishop continued his interviews for the bell ringer of Notre Dame.

The first man to approach him said, 'Your Excellency, I am the brother of the poor armless wretch that fell to his death from this very belfry yesterday.

I pray that you honour his life by allowing me to replace him in this duty.'

The bishop agreed to give the man an audition, and, as the armless man's brother stooped to pick up a mallet to strike the first bell, he groaned, clutched at his chest, twirled around, and died on the spot.

Two monks, hearing the bishop's cries of grief at this second tragedy, rushed up the stairs to his side.

'What has happened ? Who is this man ?' the first monk asked breathlessly.



'I don't know his name,' sighed the distraught bishop, 'but..'





(. . . Wait for it ...)




(.. . . It's worth it.. ..)






'HE'S A DEAD RINGER FOR HIS BROTHER.'

Fun for Lexophiles

* A bicycle can't stand alone; it is two tired.
* A will is a dead giveaway.
* Time flies like an arrow; fruit flies like a banana.
* A backward poet writes inverse.
* A chicken crossing the road: poultry in motion.
* When a clock is hungry it goes back four seconds.
* The guy who fell onto an upholstery machine was fully recovered.
* You are stuck with your debt if you can't budge it.
* He broke into song because he couldn't find the key.
* A calendar's days are numbered.
* A boiled egg is hard to beat.
* He had a photographic memory which was never developed.
* The short fortuneteller who escaped from prison: a small medium at large.
* Those who get too big for their britches will be exposed in the end.
* When you've seen one shopping center you've seen a mall.
* If you jump off a Paris bridge, you are in Seine.
* When she saw her first strands of gray hair, she thought she'd dye.
* Santa's helpers are subordinate clauses.
* Acupuncture: a jab well done.
* Marathon runners with bad shoes suffer the agony of de feet.
* The roundest knight at king Arthur's round table was Sir Cumference. He acquired his size from too much pi.
* I thought I saw an eye doctor on an Alaskan island, but it turned out to be an optical Aleutian.
* She was only a whisky maker, but he loved her still.
* A rubber band pistol was confiscated from algebra class because it was a weapon of math disruption.
* No matter how much you push the envelope, it'll still be stationery.
* A dog gave birth to puppies near the road and was cited for littering.
* Two silk worms had a race. They ended up in a tie.
* A hole has been found in the nudist camp wall. The police are looking into it.
* Atheism is a non-prophet organization.
* I wondered why the baseball kept getting bigger. Then it hit me.
* A sign on the lawn at a drug rehab center said: 'Keep off the Grass.'
* A small boy swallowed some coins and was taken to a hospital. When his grandmother telephoned to ask how he was, a nurse said, 'No change yet.'
* The soldier who survived mustard gas and pepper spray is now a seasoned veteran.
* Don't join dangerous cults: practice safe sects.

Patty-Cake Pussies

Fridge Soupers and cat lovers everywhere might enjoy this video



The voice-over was added after the video recording was shot. Over 11 million views on YouTube, apparently.

Pilling the dogs

Medicating dogs is a variable business.

Some dogs will happily take and swallow anything that comes from a human hand.

Some dogs, I hear (I've never lived with one of them) will scarf up a pill that is simply dropped on the floor in front of them. Maybe it's good I have never lived with one of those dogs: I drop a lot of things, pills of every description included.

Some dogs require peanut butter as a buffer. They love peanut butter so much that they'll lick up a whole glob of it and get so interested in removing the sticky goo from the roofs of their mouths that they don't even notice the pills.

For those who believe that specially made products 

are the answer, there are Greenies Pill Pockets ...

. . . and something called Medi-Crunch...

 

. . . and any number of other gimmicky items that Other People use successfully. I've heard the happy stories. It is my opinion that if a dog likes a Pill Pocket or a Medi-Crunch, they'd like any old thing that one could smear over the medication, but then . . . after, lo, these many years, I have become jaded about the whole topic.

My dogs were quite easily fooled, for months, by dabs of butter. Then we moved on to a liverwurst disguise.

No more.

Ground beef seems to be working these days.

At $3.99 per pound.

But thank God they aren't spoiled.

Pieces of a book

I read this book months ago, and made notes of some of its descriptions. I have had these waiting for a post on Aging Gratefully and I haven't done it yet, so this qualifies as Fridge Soup material.

I don't know that I think the descriptions are mellifluous (the first one makes me think of those lists of students' similes . . . "her teeth were straight and white as a picket fence..." that are just . . . unfortunate) but they strike me as so creative!

For book review click here--> Deceit by James Siegel

page 91

Staring at me with those muted features, as if he'd somehow missed his final trimester as a fetus.

page 97  This struck me as a useful bit of free psychotherapy.

I'm perpetually famished for love and approval----this according to Dr. Payne, who tried mightily to delve into the underlying reasons for my sociopathic behavior.
You had an absent father and an alcoholic and abusive mother, he concluded, so what else would you do but seek massive and extreme pats on the back?

Sounded sensible to me.

page 102  I think this one's kind of . . . awful...

I'd woken up with what felt like a stupid grin on my face. It was confirmed when I stared in the shower-fogged mirror and didn't see Mr. Dour staring back.

page 119

There was a brief silence, as if her allusion to sex had consumed all available air, then I asked her how her father was doing.

page 141  What? How does this happen?

Luiza's little body followed her head through the door.
She averted my eyes...

page 218

"Right," Nate said, "That's going to be easy," exhibiting a sarcasm rare for him. Maybe it was his newly wounded heart----there he was skating through life, and he'd gone and taken his first tumble. He was all skinned innocence and bloodied optimism.

page 237

"The doctor says Nate's going to be fine. He was very lucky. The bullet went right through his rib cage----it missed his major arteries."
She kept nodding up and down, up and down, drinking in the news in big thirsty gulps.

This Needs Sharing....

I discovered it a moment ago thanks to  Don't Feed The Pixies and thought how well it describes namby pambies the world over...

Direct From London

Seen in London's Evening Standard on Tuesday:

At least some Londoners are keeping their sense of humour in the face of adversity . This from @Punbelievable: "Reports from Hampton Court Palace suggest a small quartet of men in heraldic costume have just begun luting" .

I bet...

I bet this will be the first time you've ever seen a post box wearing a brick hat...
.

                                                      

 or a hat as glamorous as this one!

Both were spotted in Havant this morning, at 9.30 a.m. What sights a gal can see when she's out without a gun, but with a camera....

Guilt

He stood in the checkout queue just before me . With a big , goofy grin , stubbly and simple , he glanced about , laughing to himself and jerking . Like everyone else , I avoided eye-contact .
His turn came , the girl asked for 60 cents , he turned over a few coins in his hand and held them out . She took three 20 cent coins , rang it up and thanked him, wishing him a pleasant weekend , and off he shuffled .
I paid for the couple of last minute bits and pieces I'd picked up and went out to collect my bike .
He was perched awkwardly on the bike rack , opening the packet of cheap luncheon meat he'd bought . He sniffed it nervously and peered at the label .
"Mevrouw? Can I ask something ? What day is it ?"
"Saturday". Then I realised that he needed the date .
"It's the 30th ." He peered again at the label .
"Can I help you? ", I had to ask and went over .
The sell by date was in August so I could reassure him it was good . But what was he going to eat it with ?
"Wouldn't you like some bread with it?", offering him the only thing I had that roughly corresponded .... raisin bread .
"Oh , no . I have bread "and he smiled happily . He opened his tatty plastic bag and showed me two curling slices of the cheapest supermarket bread , resting on top of some old clothes .
I wished him Bon Appetit and left him tucking in to his feast . But I should have taken him home .... he was just a not very bright three-year old , lost until the homeless hostel opened again at 6.

Today , while waiting in our accountant's reception area , I noticed a defibrillator on the wall .

Perhaps Pandas Need Friko's Help...

As this photo suggests...
plus the following article I read online recently. I quote...

Breakthroughs in captive panda breeding herald new hopes for wild populations. Researchers employed methods ranging from sex education videos to Viagra in order to stimulate natural behaviour.
Rare interactions between aroused pairs often ended in disappointment, however. Male pandas have proportionately short penises meaning pairs must adopt a very exact position in order to mate. During their observations, researchers found that pandas demonstrated poor knowledge of this position.Most techniques failed, and many encounters between pandas turned aggressive and violent.Scientists therefore had to rely upon artificial insemination, but their efforts were again subject to the pandas' peculiar reproductive cycle.Panda pregnancies can last anything from 11 weeks to 11 months and can remain undetected until shortly before birth.

Who deleted my cattle in the field post?

Where did it go?

I am seriously cross with whoever did that, and would like an explanation, please.
Actually, I wasn't aware that anyone else has the means to do that.

Sorry Jinksy,  for bringing the comments on your post  to an untimely end.

No Reason Or Rhyme

by jinksy

Other than to wake somebody up...anybody?

Divorce 19th Century Style

A remarkable superstition still prevails among the lowest of our Vulgar, that a man may lawfully sell his wife to another, provided he delivers her over with a halter about her neck.


Brand - Observations of Popular Antiquities 1813




They came into the market between ten and eleven o'clock in the morning, the woman being led by a halter which was fastened round her neck and the middle of her body. In a few minutes after their arrival she was sold to a man of the name of Thomas Snape, a nailer of Burntwood. The purchase money was 2s 6d, and all the parties seemed satisfied with the bargain. The husband was glad to get rid of his frail rib, who, it seems, had been living with Snape for three years.


The Wolverhampton Chronicle 1837

ANNOUNCEMENT

Doctor FTSE has just been honoured by Carolina joining his Very Silly Blog as his 99th follower.

On yer marks!


Get Set!  


GO!


(The position was filled, folks, within minutes! HEHEHE!)

The Evolution of Language

I just received a thank you card from a (well brought up) young woman who lives in Santa Cruz. In her note she excused herself for being "Skater-brained". Whether or not this was a spelling error, I found it a brilliant modern, surfer dude take on scatter-brained. This one's a keeper.

This England

Blowing Hot and Cold

How can the French expect to attract our tourist trade? This year, at five different French hotels, the tap marked 'C' turned out to be 'H'.


Letter in Evening Chronicle 


(This England, when it still cost two shillings and sixpence)

Serious Fridge Voyeurs should look HERE . . .

What IS the deal with Montreal truckers?

Wednesday. 4:30pm arrives (that's 16:30 for the Europeans among us) and I leave the office. I get into my little tiny maroon Mazda and creep out of the village and onto the interstate highway. I check my rearview mirrors and see that the traffic behind me is moving over; I will be able to enter the traveling lane without getting squashed.
So far, so good.
I accelerate to the speed limit and set my cruise control.
There, suddenly beside me, is a monolith of a tractor-trailer. It seems to be traveling at nearly the same speed as I. It is only a two-lane highway. I feel a little crowded, with him there just next to me, the trailer's tall wall-like side towering over my little sedan, blocking out the daylight. Usually, traffic, particularly of the large heavy truck variety, sails on by.
Ah, he's moving ahead a little now. Good.
The end of the trailer is a mere ten feet ahead of me when I see the directional signal come on. He's moving back into my lane with bare inches to spare. If he touches his brake pedal or if some mischance lessens the distance between us by a few inches, I'll be right underneath his axle.
Cruise control: off!
I fall back a little to give him plenty of room, thinking: Gotta be a Montrealer.
Et voila! Je suis correct! Le nom de la société sur la cabine du camion est canadien, basé à Montréal.

Quel surprise...

Husband used to travel to Montreal every week. He came home with tales of traveling on St. Hyacinthe highway: everyone traveling at eighty-five miles per hour, and all six inches apart.
Those guys need to understand that here, there's LOTS OF ROOM.
No NEED to nestle up against any available vehicle.
Maybe they just don't *get* the concept of adequate personal space for vehicles.

The article that accompanies the photo above includes this line: "Provincial police are still trying to determine what caused the 16-metre trailer to flip." 
Well, hell! I can tell 'em. 
The guy was traveling at a ridiculous rate of speed, four inches from every other moving or stationary object. Case closed.

Beat The Jam

Ten past eight this morning , and cars blocked the road into town . As I cycled west , a smartly dressed middle aged man with horn rim specs and a briefcase whizzed east on the opposite bike lane ..... on a skateboard .

Don't Look!

Hey, big boy!

Interesting!

Voyeur!

What do you want, should I not go for walks any more? Leave my camera at home, maybe?  Or would you want me to waste these snaps?

Anyone For Tennis?

Lottie Dod

1871-1960

In the Special Sporting Edition of Lilliput of June 1950,  Denzil Batchelor wrote:

She is the greatest English all-rounder her sex has produced up to now. She began her career of pre-eminence in several sports by winning the Wimbledon singles in 1887 at the age of fifteen. She went on to win the title five times before retiring unbeaten in 1893. Next she turned to golf, at which she played in international matches and won the national championships in 1904. There was also hockey; she twice played for England against Ireland. She was also in the first flight as an archer, as well as being one of the most accomplished skaters of her day.

Well done, Lottie.

PS: Does that mean Victorian ladies had legs ?

A Lament....

I'm so tired;
I'm so sore.
Ain't gonna do it for a nickel no more.
Fifteen cents is now my price.
Gimme a quarter and I'll do it twice.



Shine, mister?

My contribution to the Butterfly Effect

I have recently had moments of Omnipotence.

A ladybug trapped in a puddle of condensation on the picnic table. On its back, legs working, wings trying to flip it right side up. I lowered my finger, its legs latched on for dear life, I raised it out of the water and flicked it into the grass.
I was near the open front door. A bee flew inside. A honeybee. Honeybees need to be outdoors doing their jobs so that the vegetables will flourish. I held up both my hands in a pushing position. The bee turned right around and flew out again.
A bumblebee caught between the glass and screen of the livingroom window. A water glass, a piece of paper: a bumblebee released to freedom.
A tiny spider rappelling toward the kitchen counter from the wall cabinet above. I caught her thread on my finger and took her, swinging in the breeze, to the shrubs outdoors.
A tiny green Jiminy Cricket in my sink. Caught in my hands, transferred to his natural habitat, the Great Outdoors.

If the Butterfly Effect is real, I might have played havoc with the entire universe this week.

Image source

Tanka Time

 

In a grey landscape
bright colours lift the spirits.
Paint on a brave face,
and all who come in contact
with you, the artist, will smile.  

Blame all this on a strange lady called Penny, who likes playing games!

Makes A Change From Cod And Chips

Rosary .

A rosary of jellified Jerusalem artichoke bouillon surrounding king crab , crab salad , caviar and a cream of Jerusalem artichokes , it's described in yesterday's Volkskrant restaurant review as a culinary performance . The combination of lemon and hazel nuts , artichoke and crab was faultless ... the rosary itself rather bland apparently .

So given the distance , the length of the waiting list , the possible cost and my urgent need for supper now I might settle for something more plebeian .

But , if you're not in a hurry , Oud Kluis is the place and Sergio Herman's your man .

Car Salesmen Are People, Too

From: Bob B*****

Sent: June-20-11 9:20 PM
To: debs@shaw.ca
Subject: Your car may need servicing

Dear Deb?,
A couple of months ago you were working with our Sales Department, but ended up purchasing your vehicle?at another dealership.??Even though we weren't able to provide you with your new vehicle, we would like to help you keep?the vehicle you did buy running the best that it can.? I am Bob B****?, the Service Manager here at CMP Automotive Ltd. ?.? I manage an award winning?group of service specialists.?
I would love the chance to show you why we are the best Service Department in the area.? Please call us at (403) 207-1011?and schedule your next oil change with us.? In fact, if you mention that you received this email when you schedule your?appointment, we'll give you 10% off our normal price.
Thank you for your consideration,
Bob ?
(403) 207-1011?

From: Deborah S [mailto:debs@gmail.com]
Sent: June-20-11 10:43 PM
To: 'Bob ‘'
Subject: RE: Your car may need servicing

Dear Bob,

Thanks for your note. I thought I’d just let you know that you didn’t miss out on a sale, and that no one else got one from me either. I decided just to keep the car I had, as nothing else seemed quite as right for me as it is.

But the real point of my writing back is to let you know that you need to check the formatting of your emails, as the punctuation seems firmly stuck at the question mark. It made me laugh, but I’m sure you don’t want that reaction from all of your prospective customers.

My son recently gave up his job in sales at a car dealership after a valiant effort, and thanks to his experience I can appreciate how difficult and sometimes dispiriting a job it is. I wouldn’t like to think that your apparent uncertainty might lose you a potential sale.

I wish you, quite sincerely, every success in this creative endeavour to bring in customers.

Deborah