The Guinness excuse

When we thought Dad was coming for Christmas, I bought a pack of four cans of Guinness for him, which, as arrangements were subsequently changed, were left in the cupboard and forgotten about. But only by me, it seems! When I got back from Bristol on Sunday, I discovered that there was now only one can left.
Upon enquiry, I was informed by 'He Who Is Always To Blame' that he had drunk the other three over the weekend as he needed the metal from the cans to make 'shims'. These, in case you feel you need to know, are something that he needs in his auto-locksmithing work and seemingly, can only be made from empty Guinness cans.
What is even more surprising is that, as he was explaining this, he held up only two metal sheets for my inspection, which begs the question, what happened to the third?
Keith looked meaningfully across at Paddy and shrugged.

Rubbish!

We British as a nation seem to have a somewhat cavalier attitude to litter. People think nothing of dropping a sweet paper or other rubbish as they walk along the street, seemingly oblivious to the litter bin just a couple of yards further on. I once knew someone who had a policy that, whenever he saw someone do that, he would pick up the object and return it to the 'owner' with the polite comment, "Excuse me, I think you dropped this." These days, he would probably be assaulted and then arrested for disturbing the peace. So this is probably not a course of action I would follow myself, although I might be tempted on occasion.
The person or persons who decided to stop  in the car park in our valley and clear out the rubbish from their car would be a prime candidate. Instead of using any of the THREE bins within a few yards of where they stopped, they decided to leave a pile of empty sandwich packages, half-drunk bottles of coke and other detritus right there on the car park. So much easier than actually getting out of the car and making the marathon trek to a bin, of course.
It does occur to me to wonder how they would feel if someone dumped a pile of rubbish in their front garden, but actually, they probably wouldn't even notice.

The 'B' word

Every few weeks, I overhear conversations between Jenny and Keith about 'going to Bristol' which means that Jenny is going to visit her dad. A few days later, other things happen. Jenny does the shopping and keeps telling Keith that he has plenty of food while she is away, so there is no need to get fish and chips or sweet and sour chicken and fried rice. When she says that, he looks a bit sad, so I suppose he likes them but then he gets a twinkle in his eye, which makes me think he fully intends getting them anyway.
Then I see Jenny getting a black bag from under the bed in the spare room and filling it with clothes and other things; which reminds me, why on earth do humans wear so many clothes anyway? A collar and lead does me every time...
Finally, after a lot of  going backwards and forwards to the car, Jenny is ready to go.
That's when I know that, for a few nights, I will be getting extra biscuits and I shall get to sleep on the bed and, if I'm lucky, which is none too certain after the pig-chasing fiasco, I might even get to go to work with Keith in the van.
Well, it all goes to ease the pain of separation...!
See ya Sunday!

My Blackberry Is Not Working! - The One Ronnie, Preview - BBC One

Sent to me by the notorious TK. If you haven't already seen it, it's not to be missed!

Hibernation?

Unlike some of my fellow bloggers, this is definitely not my favourite time of year. I dislike the long, dark evenings more with every year that passes and snowy, icy days seem to mean that everyday routines take longer and require more effort. Ploughing round the snowy field and valley  with Paddy  for our morning constitutional uses extra muscles, which of course, is probably a benefit and he seems to love it, but it takes just that little bit more effort to get out there in the first place.
On the bright side, the shortest day has come and gone, which means that we are now on the way to Spring. Agreed, we are taking the scenic route; it isn't going to happen overnight and we could have a few more bad weather episodes to get through first but, it's getting closer...
There are times, though, when I wonder if maybe the bears get it right. Hibernation could be the way!

Sleepless night

As I write, Paddy is snoozing peacefully on the sofa beside me. I think he is probably still worn out after last night, starting at 8.30pm when certain idiots in the area decided to recreate Beireut with their thousands of fireworks. As Paddy is a rescue dog, we don't know his history but I am willing to bet that it involves some traumatic experiences with fireworks because, as soon as he hears them, he goes berserk. So, we calm him down and all is well until the next volley, when it all starts again, with the result that he and I were still to be found on the sofa downstairs until well into the early hours.
As  I have said before, how it is still legal for members of the public to buy what are, in effect, explosives in these days of the Nanny State, is unbelievable and  at the risk of being a party-pooper, there are other ways of ushering in the new year.
Mind you, worse was to come when I did finally get to bed.
Yes, the Phantom Snorer was in residence again.....
Happy New Year! :)

New Year's Honours

Well, waddya know! I have, once again, had bestowed upon me the prodigious award to bloggers by the well-known, famous (or possibly infamous) blogger of international notoriety - yes, you've guessed it -YORKSHIRE PUDDING

AND.... AND.... it's for being 'the nicest and most polite blogger'
So there!
I'm off to crack open the champagne.