December 2014

Am listening to Radio 3. Old Man Rover.

Man singing ain’t ever lifted a bail.

It’s last night of the Proms repeat.

I did enough Proming in 2 different years to enter the draw for the last Night.

The twat singing Old Man
River might have made me boo.

The last years father was alive we enjoyed Last Night as a family.

After my dad died I have memories of forcinf my mum, and Bev(?£ to stand up for last night)

Am proper drunk. If no picture then my fault v

Just had a right proper conveststopn wi Bobby about all sorts: finance; making a house fit to rent; and the best cheap whisky to buy from Morrisons (The answer is Black Bottle).

I have a drawing by my uncle Santri I want to post this year. If I don’t it’s obviously’s fault, not mine for being drunker than the hard drinking monkeys of St Kitts.

I’ve had no telly over Christmas, buy have a laptop and a few DVDs, mostly left by my brother.

I watched the first episode of ‘Walking With Beasts’. I’m not sure. Marvellous animation, and gripping story, but if there’s the evidence suggested it wasn’t shown.

The story was of many animals killed by an eruption of gas from a lake’s bottom.

I thought about this as I sat in a bath, after a sprout, onion and leek curry, with a bottle of strong Guinness.

I am now drinking gin & tonic with lime. So getting one of my 5/7/9/34 a day (delete the not now nag at figure).

My cousin Sirpa called me from Finland a little earlier. Her man, Olli, was in the woods making things explode. Being a Finnish man it’s probably a 155mm howitzer.

I’m going to bed early, so who cares about deafening explosions!?

It were a really good curry.

I set off fairly early, with a Crawley Metro bus ticket, to try and find some soft/cushion vinyl floor tiles. It was like trying to find unicorns; I even had one man really in need of a slap telling me vinyl tiles did not exist.

I got off an East Grindstead bus in Three Bridges, had a brain wave, got back on and discovered my ticket would take me to thimagee Duke’s Head, Copthorne.

I then got a bus through, which is aa vile, Daily Mail kind of pre-war squatter with cash place, but the Prince Albert was a decent pub, with pickled eggs.

there should be pics of this journey, but seem as shite as normal.

I met Billie Whitelaw when she came to the Bradford Playhouse (then the Priestley Playhouse) to promote her autobiography Billie Whitelaw… Who he?.

I was the theatre’s historian and we had a chat. She went to the drama classes run by the Playhouse, and had found and grateful memories of them (the Playhouse is not mentioned in her Wiki).

She was an attractive and charming person. She died 2 days ago.

I met Mark whilst I was stood in the steam by the site of ‘Tracy Island’ (which was an island in 1966).

I found the recipe in one of mum’s many never used cookbooks: With a Jug of Wine By Morrison Wood (1958).

The rum was well alight when I took the photo, but you cannot see the flames.

I have photos of scotch steak, twice fried chips, fried onions, sprouts and chestnuts, and red wine and almond gravy; with a photo of the pudding: rum flambé bananas.

WordPress int working, and with next door’s Proseco, my Lidl Cava and French wine, followed by bananas swimming in rum, I will not be working either!

I can can see a lech of, I guess, fungus gnats in the garden!

Basil called me this morning. That was a welcome gift in my Christmad.

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