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.