Prolific, that's our lady from North Wales!
Dear Dan Leno, she writes, I think it is wonderful that you have been able to make a second career in television, even though you are probably the ugliest man I have ever seen, but that's not your fault.
I do think, though, that you should curb your appetite for ladies' busty substances. Even the late Mr Trellis, bless him, took no notice of my appendages, except on those rare occasions when they poked him in the eye, the penalty for being a very short Welshman with no sense of direction.
If you are ever in North Wales, do call in and interview me: I genuinely believe that I am telegenetic.
Yours
Blodwen Trellis, Mrs, Widow, retired.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Basse cuisine
Well, I didn't learn how to fillet haddock, but never mind, I have found the cookery programme of my dreams: Nigella Lawson showing how easy it is to do everything. Last night, she demonstrated cheerfully how to do things with avocados and crab and, well, hell, I can't remember, but it really doesn't matter, because as far as I am concerned, she can do no wrong. In fact, I hardly heard a word she said.
I wonder if she ever mounts a tractor?......
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Mazeltov Cocktail
I was beginning to worry that something had happened to our North Walian correspondent, but, no, I just received this missive from her.
Dear Osama, she writes, I hope you don't mind me using your christian name, but I feel I know you SO well, what with both of us having a passion for ankle-length frocks. I am sure you share my view that miniskirts are most unflattering on anyone over the age of eighteen. I certainly am glad you have never been tempted to appear in public wearing anything above the knee.
It's none of my business, but I understand that you have an entourage of adoring young men. While I do not personally approve of homeopathy - except for a brief feeling of passion I once had for our District Nurse some years back during a colonial irrigation session - I am sure you exercise suitable discreption, and you also ensure that they keep their legs covered at all times.
If you are ever in Llanfair pg, do call in and we can enjoy a drink together. I have a special concoction, strictly non-alchoholic, of course, me being a Primitive Methodist, and you a dessicated Muslin. I call it my Mazeltov Cocktail, something you semitic people will understand.
Your spirituously
Blodwen Trellis, Mrs, Widow, retired.
Dear Osama, she writes, I hope you don't mind me using your christian name, but I feel I know you SO well, what with both of us having a passion for ankle-length frocks. I am sure you share my view that miniskirts are most unflattering on anyone over the age of eighteen. I certainly am glad you have never been tempted to appear in public wearing anything above the knee.
It's none of my business, but I understand that you have an entourage of adoring young men. While I do not personally approve of homeopathy - except for a brief feeling of passion I once had for our District Nurse some years back during a colonial irrigation session - I am sure you exercise suitable discreption, and you also ensure that they keep their legs covered at all times.
If you are ever in Llanfair pg, do call in and we can enjoy a drink together. I have a special concoction, strictly non-alchoholic, of course, me being a Primitive Methodist, and you a dessicated Muslin. I call it my Mazeltov Cocktail, something you semitic people will understand.
Your spirituously
Blodwen Trellis, Mrs, Widow, retired.
Go on, pull its teeth out!
As you all know, being fans of David Attenborough, owls regurgitate the indigestible bits of their (mainly) rodent prey in the form of pellets. So, if you dissect a pellet you can find what they have been catching by examining and identifying the skin and bones of various species. And, if you are so inclined (ie, because there's nothing on TV, your marriage is on the rocks or you are doomladen from watching CNN), you can pick through the bones and decide if your local Tyto alba has been noshing wood mice or common shrews or short-tailed field voles. But to make such specific identifications, you have to examine the teeth, ie, pull a tooth from the lower jaw and study its profile.My young naturalist friend from next door has been doing just that (I took her and mum today to a Barn Owl nest with young, and she's hooked). She's been at it for a while now: ripping out teeth, examining them through the magnifier, comparing them with the ID chart, and then announcing the identification. Stunning.
Me, I am just looking at the TV guide to see if there's something I can cope with that doesn't involve pulling teeth. Maybe a cookery programme about how to fillet haddock.
Friday, September 21, 2007
A good day
Today has been such a good day that I am already apprehensive about tomorrow! Here is a list of the good things that happened:1 A received a royalty cheque for £869.41 that I wasn't expecting.
2 Two plumbers turned up and repaired my faulty CH system - in about 30 minutes!
3 Keith G came by and mowed my lawns so that I could get on with....
4 ....making mega progress with THE BOOK.
5 I got ALL my laundry done and put away.
6 My dear friend E's operation for bowel cancer seems to have gone well.
7 I received a present through the post - a new frock, made in Turkey!
8 One of our farmers has FIVE Barn Owl boxes with second broods.
9 I have had two lovely conversations with other men's wives!
Now I am waiting for the other boot to drop....
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Mrs T gets proverbial
Dear Mr Gates, she writes, First off, may I admire you for your honesty in deliberating yourself as "microsoft". That takes courage in an age when every man likes to think of himself as "macrohard". I feel sorry for your wife, though, having myself experienced similar accoutrements from the late Mr Trellis, God bless him. Mind you, he was a demon on the harmonium.
But my main reason for writing to you was not to admire your diminutive status, but to say how much I agree with your comments about proverbs and similar aphrodisiacs. Our language is full of such nonsenses. Take "Too many broths spoil the cook" for instance. How can an excess of soup be bad for anyone? And "Lonely hands make lights work", what is one meant to deride from that, electricians accepted?
I will not go on. I know you are a busy man, what with litigation and coping with an excess of money. I just wanted you to know that, as we say in Llanfair pg "A friendly deed is a need indeed". Or something to that affection.
Yours proverbly
Blodwen Trellis, Mrs, Widow, retired.
But my main reason for writing to you was not to admire your diminutive status, but to say how much I agree with your comments about proverbs and similar aphrodisiacs. Our language is full of such nonsenses. Take "Too many broths spoil the cook" for instance. How can an excess of soup be bad for anyone? And "Lonely hands make lights work", what is one meant to deride from that, electricians accepted?
I will not go on. I know you are a busy man, what with litigation and coping with an excess of money. I just wanted you to know that, as we say in Llanfair pg "A friendly deed is a need indeed". Or something to that affection.
Yours proverbly
Blodwen Trellis, Mrs, Widow, retired.
What was that again?
Today, apart from the joy of finding 8 out of 13 Barn Owl boxes occupied by second or late broods, I was delighted to have two quotations fired at me. The first was the footer to an email:
The whole aim of practical politics is to keep the populace alarmed - and hence, clamorous to be led to safety - by menacing it with an endless series of hobgoblins, all of them imaginary. H.L. Mencken (1880-1956)
Just think, Mencken had not even heard of Global Warming or Climate Change at the time. Or am I being unduly cynical?
The second has left me with a niggling boggle in the mind: You cannot make a Pekinese by starving a Great Dane. I have no idea what that means.
I have a penchant for deeply meaningless aphorisms, and I am inclined to add that one to the list. Like the Chinese A mended pot lasts a thousand years, it leaves me befuddled. The Russians do quite well too with such pearls as Shchi da kasha, pishcha nasha ("Cabbage soup and porridge is our fare"). Try an English equivalent, such as "Cheese on toast and beefburgers are what we eat" and you see how it loses nothing in translation.
What on earth do these folkloristic apophthegms add to our understanding of life's vagaries? Because I love showing off, I will add a baffling Turkish proverb Kılavuzu karga olanın, burnu boktan çıkmaz. I am sure you don't need a translation, but it roughly says "He who chooses a crow as a guide will never get his nose out of the shit." Work that into a conversation if you can!
I will leave you with one more bon mot. I used to belong to a gentleman's club in Newcastle (the one under Lyme). One evening, the barman said, a propos a discussion about debts: I would rather owe forever than never pay at all. I wouldn't have minded, but the bugger didn't even smile: he meant it. Whatever it is.
The whole aim of practical politics is to keep the populace alarmed - and hence, clamorous to be led to safety - by menacing it with an endless series of hobgoblins, all of them imaginary. H.L. Mencken (1880-1956)
Just think, Mencken had not even heard of Global Warming or Climate Change at the time. Or am I being unduly cynical?
The second has left me with a niggling boggle in the mind: You cannot make a Pekinese by starving a Great Dane. I have no idea what that means.
I have a penchant for deeply meaningless aphorisms, and I am inclined to add that one to the list. Like the Chinese A mended pot lasts a thousand years, it leaves me befuddled. The Russians do quite well too with such pearls as Shchi da kasha, pishcha nasha ("Cabbage soup and porridge is our fare"). Try an English equivalent, such as "Cheese on toast and beefburgers are what we eat" and you see how it loses nothing in translation.
What on earth do these folkloristic apophthegms add to our understanding of life's vagaries? Because I love showing off, I will add a baffling Turkish proverb Kılavuzu karga olanın, burnu boktan çıkmaz. I am sure you don't need a translation, but it roughly says "He who chooses a crow as a guide will never get his nose out of the shit." Work that into a conversation if you can!
I will leave you with one more bon mot. I used to belong to a gentleman's club in Newcastle (the one under Lyme). One evening, the barman said, a propos a discussion about debts: I would rather owe forever than never pay at all. I wouldn't have minded, but the bugger didn't even smile: he meant it. Whatever it is.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)