St Peter and the Blonde

TK hasn't sent me any 'blonde' jokes lately, but now he has. Enjoy.
A Blonde was sent on her way to Heaven. Upon arrival, a concerned St Peter met her at the Pearly Gates.
'I'm sorry,' St Peter said; 'But Heaven is> suffering from an overload of goodly souls and we have been forced to put up an Entrance Exam for new arrivals to ease the burden of Heavenly Arrivals.'
'That's cool' said the blonde, 'What does the Entrance Exam consist of?'
'Just three questions' said St Peter.
'Which are?' asked the blonde. 'The first,' said St Peter, 'is, which two days of the week start with the letter 'T' '? The second is 'How many seconds are there in a year?' The third is 'What was the name of the swagman in Waltzing Matilda?' 'Now,' said St Peter, 'Go away and think about those questions and when I call upon you, I shall expect you to have those answers for me.'
So the blonde went away and gave those three questions some considerable thought (I expect you to do the same). The following morning, St Peter called upon the blonde and asked if she had considered the questions, to which she replied, 'I have.'
'Well then,' said St Peter, 'Which two days of the week start with the letter T?'
The blonde said, 'Today and Tomorrow.'
St Peter pondered this answer for some time, and decided that indeed the answer can be applied to the question. 'Well then, could I have your answer to the second of the three questions?' St Peter went on, 'how many seconds in a year?'
The Blonde replied, 'Twelve!'
'Only twelve?' exclaimed St Peter, 'How did you arrive at that figure?'
'Easy,' said the blonde, 'there's the second of January, the second of February, right through to> the second of December, giving a total of twelve seconds.'
St Peter looked at the blonde and said, 'I need some time to consider your answer before I can give you a decision.' And he walked away shaking his head. A short time later, St Peter returned to the Blonde.
'I'll allow the answer to stand, but you need to get the third and final question absolutely correct to be allowed into Heaven. Now, can you tell me the answer to the name of the swagman in Waltzing Matilda?'
The blonde replied: 'Of the three questions, I found this the easiest to answer.'
'Really!' exclaimed St Peter, 'And what is the answer?'
'It's Andy.'
'Andy??'
'Yes, Andy,' said the blonde. This totally floored St Peter, and he paced this way and that, deliberating the answer. Finally, he could not stand the suspense any longer, and turning to the blonde, asked 'How in God's name did you arrive at THAT answer?'
'Easy' said the blonde, 'Andy sat, Andy watched, Andy waited 'till his billy boiled.'
And the blonde entered Heaven...

Golden Handcuffs

I've finished with teaching, something I continue to rejoice about, but couldn't help hearing about this on the news yesterday. £10,000 to be given to good teachers to keep them working in 'challenging' schools for at least three years. Not that that will happen in all the 'toughest' schools, you understand. Oh no, the toughest secondary schools only. So I guess that means that the poor old primary teachers are expected to soldier on with no pecuniary incentives - as always.
And for those who wonder how primary aged pupils can possibly be as difficult as their older brothers and sisters, may I suggest you watch this episode of 'Dispatches' shown last week on Channel 4. (You can watch it online).

It's just a pullover

Before Christmas I bought Dad a long-sleeved pullover, which for one reason or another, had not yet been sent, so this morning I went off to the post office to remedy the situation. A long-sleeved pullover may not sound particularly newsworthy, but for someone who has worn short sleeved shirts and sleeveless pullovers for a lifetime, it is. When I came back home, I rang Dad to tell him I had posted the parcel and he should be getting it tomorrow.
"Oh, has it got sleeves?" he asked.
"Yes," I replied.
"But I don't wear sleeves. .. I'd better keep it for best."
"No, it's for the cold weather and we did discuss this before Christmas..."
He laughed. "Well, you discussed it and I listened," he said. "I thought I'd better not argue."
"But you did say you would wear it," I said. "I wouldn't have bought it if you hadn't said you would wear it."
"Oh well," he said, "I'm sure it will be all-right."
A success then! Hopefully...

Prince Harry's latest

I was planning on doing a post on this but Silverback beat me to it, so I will content myself with agreeing wholeheartedly with what he says regarding Prince Harry and to his list of nicknames etc by which hosts of other people are known, I will add that of my son, who is also in the army and, being from Liverpool, with a strong accent to boot, has been known since he first signed on as 'Scouser'. He is, and always has been, perfectly happy with that and accepts it for what it is, a nickname, nothing more or less.
I find it so frustrating, although sadly not surprising, that all the usual PC gang are on the bandwagon, baying for blood. Someone representing the Ramadhan Foundation, interviewed on BBC News has stated that Harry should 'come on down here and apologise face to face.' As he was not the person referred to in the film, I cannot for the life of me see why he thinks such an apology should be made to him and his associates.
The world is slowly but surely going mad. We have Israelis and Palestinians killing each other over a tiny strip of land but the politicians and pressure groups focus their energies and outrage on an unimportant nickname which apparently was quite acceptable to its owner.
"A spokeswoman for the Ministry of Defence said: "Neither the Army nor the Armed Forces tolerates inappropriate behaviour in any shape or form. "
Well, maybe they feel they have to be seen to be taking some sort of action, but one hopes that, behind the scenes, they will treat this situation with an appropriate degree of common sense.

Wot??

"Do you know where there is a Spar round here?" Keith asked one of the locals where we spent New Year.
The man looked thoughtful.
"Hmmm, have to ask the wife about that," he said, "I know where there's a sauna, though," he said, brightening up.
"No," said Keith, with a completely straight face, "We just want to buy a few groceries."
"Makes you wonder how some people's minds work, doesn't it?" he said to me afterwards.

A short break

On New Year's Eve, Keith and I set off in the RV for a little place called Cwmcuttan, which is on the outskirts of the Brecon Beacons. We planned to treat ourselves to a four day break, and so we did. The temperatures were not wonderful, minus 7 degrees on two nights, but we had two sunny days and peace and quiet, so we enjoyed it. Keith did complain that his head got cold during the night and wanted to wear his cap in bed, but I laid down the law on that score. The RV, being an American job, is built to withstand low temperatures, not like your average British motorhome, and there was an electric hook-up included in the price, so at times, it was warmer than it would be here at home.

You will notice from the photo that there are bikes in evidence and, yes, we did use them. Keith has discovered that, surprisingly, he is able to cycle with far less pain to his ankle than walking causes and he's good at it, unlike me.

On New Year's Day, we ventured forth to nearby Llandovery and I managed to get some photos of a few of the participants gathering for the hunt.

So now we are back, normal daily life has taken over again and I will try to do a bit more blogging - honest!

New Year

I know I have been silent for several days now, but we had a lovely Christmas chez Elder Daughter and also in the company of Elder Son and Younger Daughter, which was extra specially good as it must be at least seven years since we have celebrated Christmas together.
And now, we are on the doorstep of the new year which, judging by all the news and predictions at the moment, will possibly be one to remember, although not for the right reasons. I think one of my new year resolutions may be not to watch or read the news any more - it's just too depressing and, so much of the time, it is disaster being talked up which all too often often leads to self-fulfilling prophecies.
Apart from that, and because we do listen to the news and would have to be living on a desert island somewhere not to be aware of the current economic climate, we have decided to take the house off the market and forget about moving to France in the near future. (If the Guardian is right and the housing market is going to take 10 years to get back to 2007 conditions, it will be too late for us anyway.)
Of course, we have a lot to be thankful for so there will be no feeling sorry for ourselves, but I reserve the right to be annoyed, nay incandescent, at Gordon Brown's insistence that we all need to batten down the hatches and develop a good dose of 'Dunkirk spirit'. So he, those in charge of banking institutions and politicians everywhere will also be tightening their belts and feeling the cold misery of depleted savings, repossessed houses, lost jobs? No, thought not - and no punishments or recriminations for having got us into this mess in the first place!
(Note to self - New Year Resolution should perhaps be to go easy on the incandescence next year - there will be far too many possible targets!)
Happy New Year, everyone!