Thursday, 13 December 2018

Even Domino The Smallholding Cat Is Interested In Brexit!


Domino is very worried about Brexit and Mrs May looking after all the fat cats and not doing a thing about farm cats.



He watched for a while and got bored and rather depressed with it all.  He wants free movement for all cats and rodents and dogs can have one way tickets away from cats.  

He eventually decided he had heard enough and decided to make himself an hibernation home in a Walkers crisp box.   
Domino hibernating until March the 29th.  Funnily enough that was my mum and dad's wedding anniversary (how did the Brexit negotiators know?) and traditionally the day of the Grand National.  Horses for courses, I suppose?  I think Mrs May needs to get out her whips ("get it?") and turn into Velvet Brown and win her own National Velvet  or Brexit?

Domino reminded me of our two lads on Christmas Day when they were young.  They would remove the expensive piece of plastic (toy) and sit in the box and play for hours.  Why didn't we just get them Christmas cardboard boxes for Christmas?

Here's a song for Domino.  


Monday, 10 December 2018

The Music Was Better Forty Years Ago And The Passing Of A Legend.

You know when your getting old when you can't stand the music on the wireless (showing my age) radio, don't you?

One day recently when I was working on the island.  Abba ("Money, Money, Money") was on the radio ("wireless") one dinner time.  Then Blondie: "Picture This" came on!

I shook my head and said or announced:

"The music was better forty years ago".  

The lads agreed with me.  The music was better forty years ago or even longer.

The lead singer of The Buzzzcocks passed away last week.  The news genuinely shocked me and I was very sad.  They were one of the best bands to come out of Lancashire in my opinion.  Up there with: The Smiths, Barclay James Harvest, The Beatles, 10 CC, Vander Graf Generator...?   Three minute songs that everybody could sing along and even dance too.  

Punk was like the garage band scene or even writing a blog for free on the internet.  You didn't need money.  You just put a band together and off you went.  What's more working class than that?  It's like George Best or Wayne Rooney running on the pitch and showing the world what they can do.

Remember this ?:


Thanks for being a legend and inspiring so many Pete!

Sunday, 9 December 2018

Sugar Candy Mountain ("What About The Animals?")

I was talking to a barmaid in England last summer about the weather, family, Ireland, writing, England, music (It was a long conversation) and Heaven.  Yes Heaven.  My dear late mother use to say to me:  

"Where ever I end up  David (Sunday name!) I will know somebody.  If I end up in Hell at least I will be warm."

I don't think Heaven is just looking at holiday photographs, supping "nice cups of tea" and singing hymns, do you?  I think it will be like Earth and you will get to see your loved ones again, see some super Rock groups, Rock super groups and football geniuses, cricket legends and see all your beloved pets too,

Any way I said to this barmaid:

"Do you believe in God and will we go to Heaven one day?"

She looked at me and said:

"Hmm..  I dunno?  It doesn't mention the animals going to Heaven in the bible and if they don't go there, I don't want to go there either".

She had a point.

But God made Heaven and Earth and every living creature.  So surely Heaven will be the same, won't it?

Have you read George Orwell's (Eric Blair) Animal Farm?  There is a Raven character called Moses.  He preaches to the hard working farm animals like Boxer the cart horse that they should work hard and one day they will get their eternal reward in Sugar Candy Mountain.  Nobody will need to work there and everything will be provided for free.  It's a parody on Stalinism and perhaps even religion.  

What do you think dear readers, is there an after life for our pets?

Friday, 7 December 2018

The Irish Spitfire Ace With The Shamrock On His Plane.

Thanks for the comments and all the views for my last post.  My friend in that post is no longer around.  He was such a character and I was only thinking about him the other day.  

We were born in 1963 and there was still much celebrating and play acting about the World War Two victory.  We would buy the Victor comic, dig fox holes and make guns out of wood and fought each other in "Japs and Commando" battles and of course the times he or me would run down the street, arms stretched.  Pretending to be a Spitfire shooting down a Messerschmidt.  

Anyway I was on one of my strolls (eight miles) the other day and I met an oldish looking man.  He thought I was a tourist but he couldn't work out my accent.  I told him that people in shops often ask me how long am I on holiday here?  

"Seventeen and a half years". 

That's my usual reply.

We must of been talking for nearly an hour.  We talked about literature, travel (he' was in the Merchant Navy), Brexit (not again!) the British Atlantic fleet being based over on Beara, across the water from us.  We got on like an house on fire.  

Then he asked me if I had hear of the Spitfire ace: Paddy Finucane.  He told me he use to have a Shamrock painted (emblazoned) on his plane.  I rushed home and Googled: "Irish Spitfire Ace."Paddy was born in Dublin.  His mother was English and his father fought in the 1916 Dublin Rising.  Paddy joined the RAF and fought in the Battle of Britain and was shot down by machine gun fire, but not by an enemy plane  the rest is history.  What a guy and so, so brave.


I am going to buy a book about him.  Perhaps I may get it for a Christmas present, hint, hint!

I have mentioned Public Broadcasting, the band before.  Here's a very appropriate track of theirs:


Wednesday, 5 December 2018

The Polar Bears That Ate My Mum's Butties. ("These animals are dangeroos" ).

The following anecdote came to mind when I walking over the hills the other day:

When I was young growing up in deepest Lancashire.  We would have our annual school trips to far off places like: York (I sat on Dick Turpin's bed), The Lake District (Dove Cottage), New Brighton (pebbly beach) and even Manchester.  

Anyway one year we went to Belle Vue Zoo in Manchester.  I remember me and one of my mates walking passed the Polar bear pit.  This looked like a squash court for Polar bears.  The Polar bears lived in a concrete pit and we could look down at them.  Not in a condescending way, but literally!  

I pulled out one of my home made sandwiches that my dear mama had made that very morn.  It was Ham and lots of salt and pepper in between two slices of bread (brown of course).  I said to my mate:

"I don't like these, they're crap!"  

So I threw it down to Mr and Mrs Polar bear.  

My mate duly pulled out his sandwiches, threw them down to Mr and Mrs Polar bear too and said:

" Mine are crap too Dave!"

We looked down and there were Mr and Mrs Polar bear (all 12 feet of them) in their white stocking feet.  Scoffing our sandwiches that our mother's had sweated and toiled and made that merry morn! Stood eating our butties with the generous offerings of ham and salt and pepper.  

We laughed and walked into Wimpy or what ever the zoo snack bar was called and bought ourselves an hot dog a piece!

Have you any zoo tales?


Monday, 3 December 2018

Non Alcoholic Beer And Domino Gets A Warm.


I have finally decided to give up the sauce.  Give up the sauce?  Yes that's right.  Have a break or even call it a day to alcohol.  Its my ninth day with out any drinky poohs.  It's the longest I have gone with out a cold beer in over twenty years.

So how do you feel Dave?  With my fingers!  No seriously.  My body needs a break from alcohol.  So I have been drinking non alcoholic drinks like Becks Blue.  The bottle in the photo below.



Have you ever tried it?  What do you think of it?  It's better than nothing .   I am a bit like the ex smoker carrying a packet of cigarettes around with them. 

Do you like beer Dave?  I feel like those 10 CC lyrics:  " I  don't like Cricket, I love it."  Please paraphrase the word beer instead of cricket.

I miss Real Ale in England.  But I have decided to knock drinking on its head for a while.

I admire people who just have a drink at the weekend and can leave it alone.  I like a drink most nights.  It alters my mood, relaxes me and I would never have plucked up the courage (Dutch) to talk to lasses and spit in their ears and talk about romantic things like Manchester United, Black Sabbath, allotments and Xena Warrior Princess.

Anybody else had a break or even thinking about giving up the sauce?


Domino having a warm in front of the range.  He looks like he's been on the milk pop.

Friday, 30 November 2018

Tulip Season.

Hello.  I feel like the lyrics to that Adele song.  I haven't even managed to write a blog this month and only two last month.  Still its my 85th of the year so its not too bad.

I am not working on the island any more.  May be next year?  How long is a piece of string?  I know.  It was good to have a laugh and a joke with the lads who I worked with.  

I think that's why we blog because its a natter with other people.  I miss a good chat and a natter.  Especially living with rural isolation a lot of the time.

The other day we went over the Cork and Kerry (Tunnel road) to Kenmare.  Aldi and Lidl are smack bang next to each other and there's even a Super Valu supermarket across the road. 

Inside there is a wool shop and the missus wanted some buttons for a cardigan/ jumper for one of her nieces children she's knitting ("knit one, pearl, click, click every night") for Christmas.  She was asked three weeks a go they wanted FOUR jumpers in the Next THREE weeks!   She's on her last one too!



I decided to wait outside and have a look at the pretty flowers on sale outside the supermarket.  There to my amazement were some TULIPS.  Not from Amsterdam but Kerry in November!  The worlds gone mad! 

I have been back walking lots of miles over the hills overlooking the bays and listening to the wireless (crystal set) on my mobile phone.  This track came on the other day and it related to me about what a crazy world we live in with Brexit and Ukraine and it keeps bloody raining and life keep changing, some times not how we want.  Perhaps we could call it: Tulip Season?  You heard it here first!











Hope you're all well and I always read your blogs even when I don't always comment! I hope to keep writing and jump back on the old blog horse again!


Even Domino The Smallholding Cat Is Interested In Brexit!

Domino is very worried about Brexit and Mrs May looking after all the fat cats and not doing a thing about farm cats. He watched f...