Charles Ernest Perkins

This was my paternal great grandfather, an army man and probably the source of many of Hugh's 'awkward' genes and commitment to an army career. Legend has it  in our family, that his father, a humble artisan, stole the heart of the daughter of a baronet, who then ran away with him and was disowned by her family. If she had married someone more acceptable, maybe we would now be living in a big house in London with lots of money, but who knows?

There is a fairly strong chance, however, that this legend is just that, a legend and somewhat lacking in concrete evidence, as during my recent forays into family history, I haven't been able to uncover any reliable clues that this event really happened. So I ordered a copy of C.E. Perkins' birth certificate, three weeks ago from the General Register Office and sat back to wait.
On the site, it says that certificates, unless ordered more expensively for quick delivery, will take three weeks to arrive. Being of an ever-optimistic disposition, I hoped they would be having a quiet period and it would arrive early, but no. I can just imagine them sitting there at their desks, checking their watches and calendars and saying, "Two more days to go before we can send that Perkins one, Alf. Don't you go sending it early, lad. We don't want to be setting prcedents!"
So, my confirmation email informed me that the certificate would be dispatched today, which means that I will get it on Thursday at the earliest. Not exactly Amazon, is it? But I am hoping it will be worth the wait and we will find out the names of C.E. Perkins' parents. Watch this space...

Little England??

I am just watching Little England on ITV1, simply because it's on, I've had a busy and not altogether satisfactory day and haven't got the energy to do anything else, but try as I might, I just can't see the point of emigrating to another country to immerse oneself in British culture, surrounded by many other fellow Brits. If anyone thinks they can, I am waiting to be enlightened!

Brambles!

Today, I have mainly been battling with brambles in this garden. And I have the scars to prove it!

Banned from Sainsbury's. Didn't like shopping there anyway.

No, this is not one of my supermarket rants, but another offering from TK!

Yesterday I was at my local Sainsbury's store buying a large bag of Winalot dog food for my loyal pet and was in the checkout queue when a woman behind me asked if I had a dog.

What did she think I had an elephant? So, since I'm retired and have little to do, on impulse I told her that no, I didn't have a dog, I was starting the Winalot Diet again. I added that I probably shouldn’t, because I ended up in hospital last time, but I'd lost 2 stone before I woke up in intensive care with tubes coming out of most of my orifices and IVs in both arms.

I told her that it was essentially a perfect diet and that the way that it works is to load your pockets with Winalot nuggets and simply eat one or two every time you feel hungry. The food is nutritionally complete so it works well and I was going to try it again. (I have to mention here that practically everyone in queue was now enthralled with my story.)

Horrified, she asked me if I ended up in intensive care because the dog food poisoned me I told her no, I stepped off the kerb to sniff an Irish Setter's arse and a car hit me.

I thought the guy behind her was going to have a heart attack he was laughing so hard. I'm now banned from Sainsbury's.

Better watch what you ask retired people.

They have all the time in the world to think of daft things to say.

Cat meets dog

On our way back from our walk this morning, we came up from the valley and found, as we usually do in that spot, Ginger Cat, who is almost always to be found under the bushes by the path. Today, Paddy spotted her from a few feet away and began to get excited and pull on the lead. The rest is as follows:

• Ginger Cat pretends not to have any inkling that there is a dog on the horizon and stretches luxuriously.
• Paddy attempts to lunge forward.
• Ginger Cat turns her back and sits on the grass.
• Paddy attempts to lunge forward.
• We are now drawing level with the cat and I have to drag Paddy over to the side of the path as Ginger Cat certainly ain't gonna move.
• Ginger Cat finally recognises Paddy's existence, draws herself up and arches her back. Disapproval  is oozing from every pore.
• By now, I am using every muscle to drag Paddy past the wretched cat and on our way.
• A few yards from home and Paddy is finally distracted, this time by a teenage squirrel taunting him from the top of a fence.
• More dragging...

How to wash a cat

Cat lovers look away now! This little gem comes from Keith, who sad to say, is not a cat lover.

1. Put both lids of the toilet up and add 1/8 cup of pet shampoo to the water in the bowl...
2. Pick up the cat and soothe him while you carry him towards the bathroom.
3. In one smooth movement put the cat in the toilet and close the lid. You may need to stand on the lid.
4. At this point the cat will self agitate and make ample suds. Never mind the noises that come from the toilet, the cat is actually enjoying this
5. Flush the toilet three or four times. This provides a 'Power-Wash' and 'Rinse'.
6. Have someone open the front door of your home. Be sure that there are no people between the bathroom and the front door.
7. Stand well back, behind the toilet as far as you can, and quickly lift the lid.
8. The cat will rocket out of the toilet, streak through the bathroom, and run outside where he will dry himself off.
9. Both the toilet and the cat will be sparkling clean.

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The end of summer

Every year, spring comes and I look forward to the long, sunny days of summer and every year, when summer disappoints, I hope for an Indian summer. Then September runs its course and, before we know it, we are into dark nights and short days.

Last week, the weather fell short of our expectations. Let's face it, we didn't expect twenty hours of continuous rain on an early September day! Today, Paddy and I went for our walk up, round and through the valley. There are still lots of leaves of the trees but a fair few on the ground too and autumn colours are on the rise. I wonder, as I always do at this time of year, whatever happened to summer? Actually, it wasn't too bad in this neck of the woods; not as much rain as in other areas and not too hot - I like not too hot. And, I must admit that for me, the best part of autumn is still the knowledge that I am not going back to the classroom job to start a new academic year! I shall continue to rejoice in the fact that Paddy and I can be out on our walk at 9am on a weekday morning and hear the sounds of the school day beginning in the school across the road.

Autumn? Bring it on, Indian summer or not!