Still
on the odd names theme . . . I saw a cartoon today in which a priest,
standing by the church font, is saying to the parents, with
resignation - "'Feral' is an adjective, not a name."
And
another cartoon, possibly too close to the truth to be that funny -
An adult is asking a 15 year-old boy:- "What do you want to do
when you leave school?" To which the lad answers:- "Learn
to read and write."
Ah,
the good old British health service - the NHS. I had an X-ray on
Monday. Albeit only of my toes. They said it would take 2 weeks for
the results to filter through to my GP, as the Diamond Jubilee
celebrations would slow things down. But I received a call yesterday
to tell me they were through already - after only 3 days! - and to ask me to see the GP to discuss them. The earliest appointment,
though, is a week away. One step forward, two back. I do hope my toes
don't drop off from a fatal condition before then. Perhaps toesilitis. A word from an old, but very funny, joke. Honest.
Gods
know why, but I thought today of a English delicacy - the
Staffordshire oatcake. Here's a site dedicated to it. And here's a
recipe. I wonder how different it is from the Breton crêpe.
Talking
of matters culinary . . . Here's Alfie Mittington's latest incursion
that world.
Finally
. . . "A few years ago, at the height of Spain’s property
boom, Spain was pouring more cement in a year than the rest of Europe
combined." Oh, how I miss those cement trucks endlessly ploughing(plowing)
up and down the hill. And leaving us with a lot of empty properties. An awful lot.
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