Raise a Ruckus

I was going to post this to celebrate Obama's victory but then the computer blew up and I had to do a Format C: and all the tedious business thereafter and I couldn't find the back up disk with it on either. It's a song adapted from the black slave tradition which is still unfortunately popular.

Since I've missed the boat on that, I'm going to dedicate it to my cousin Cathleen in Oz so that her eyes can light up again. Chin up gal and with loads of love from us all.

Clod's version.... Raise a Ruckus.mp3
It's mp3 format 4 tracked on an ancient tascam by an ancient clod.

Gorgeous Gorgeous Gingernuts

A Very Young Clod

The incomparable Realdoc has suggested, (for rather unconvincing Darwinian reasons), that we gingers are doomed to extinction. Part of the reasoning is that the UV lighting in clubs and discos reflecting off our frekkly faces produces a sort of putrescent green rendering which makes us unshagabble. Science eh...marvellous!

Obviously I'm not going to take this personally; I have, after all, reproduced entirely successfully, thereby passing on the recessive gene to my son, who is not a gingernut (I would still love him if he was...honest). I have done this against the odds too as I am also a fashion incompetent sensible person who wears socks with his sandals.

Personally, I find redheads very attractive. They tend to be lively, fun loving, intelligent people with a lot of passion for life. Or am I just trying to disguise some latent narcisissitic personality traits?

So, addressing any female readers of my witterings. Do you find redhead guys intrinsically unattractive? If so, why? Or, is it a matter of indifference? Or, are you highly attracted to gingernuts and immediately want to cater to their every whim and fancy & desire. If so you can get me on 07798...*coughs*

Man Who Killed Boy Attacked Woman In Carwash

This in one of the front page headlines in our local rag tonight *sigh* Makes me think I really should have taken up the journalist option all those years ago when I was offered it.

What can I tell you? The weathers rubbish; but you already know that. We have had a huge steaming pile of muck delivered by tractor and trailer which now sits snugly wrapped at the end of our plot. It is a very satisfying sight and will do the soil a power of good this winter. We have eaten the last of our tomatoes and now have to buy them Grrrrr! Still lifting spuds though, and plenty of cabbages and kale and parsnips and sprouts etc to go at. Really like the Scorzonera roots which are delicious. The girls are on a go slow and from a sort of regularish 4 eggs a day it's down to one titchy pullet egg today.

I cycled home and the low winter sun cast a huge shadow on the road in front making me look like a 40 metre long nodding donkey steam engine on a mission. The pistons looked a bit spindly though but then my legs are not what they used to be.

There was something else I was burning to write about but I've just been put out and I can't remember what it was anyway. C'est la vie.

Waddle We Do?

I probably forgot to tell you that the East Indian Black ducks are called WaddleYouDo and WaddleYouDont.

Ben likes to give them a cuddle when we go up to put all the girls to roost for the night. Thursdays are especially good because it coincides with the Beano coming out and WaddleYouDo seems to enjoy having the Bash Street Kids read to her though I am not convinced she understands it. I'm not sure I do either, but thats another matter.

Today when I went up the place was crawling with police because 15, yes Fifteen sheds were broken into last night. The crawling with police bit was a bit of an exaggeration, but the 15 sheds bit sadly wasn't. The week before they'd done Tommys shed and got quite good pickings, chainsaw, tools, gas bottles and burners etc and presumably decided that it was worth a second run. Tommy had a clock in his shed which they knocked off the wall and it stopped at two something in the morning so it seems clear to me that it's deliberate targetted thievery and not just local youth killing time. The second attempt seems to confirm that. Apparantly though, they didn't get all of the booty away as a pile of strimmers and stuff was found stashed over the fence; the main gate is hard to get through which gives the only convenient road access. Most of the sheds on the path behind ours were done; they are furthest away from the overlooking houses and tell-tale lights (but who's going to be looking at 2am?). They left our shed alone thankfully and the people that thought I was being extravagant putting on a solid front door (scrounged from our neighbour), and put a five lever lock on it rather than a padlock and hasp can now eat their thoughts. Not that I feel smug about that.....obviously not.

The Sheriff is Near

Well, I'm too old a soak to get caught up in the euphoria but I hope for the best yet fear the worst. Perhaps the world wakes up a little less afraid of America today, recognising that, at last, a little humility has returned to it.

But damn it, Tim beat me to it. Not that that's gonna stop me.
The Sheriff is Near

Understatement of the Year Award

The above award is unilaterally awarded to the wonderful Real Seeds people for this little gem from their 2009 catalogue.

"Hundreds of thousands of old heirloom varieties (the results of about eleven thousand years of plant breeding by our ancestors) are being lost forever, due to some rather pooly drafted EU legislation. This seems a little foolish." .....badum kerching.

All Hallows Eve

I wouldn't go out on the streets round my way if I were you. Not tonight anyway.