[Bob Williams]

I second Richard’s thoughts: may you continue making all us other Oldpharts think on these forums. Good luck with any health issues that may be concerning you.

John, this is slightly off-topic, but is your landlord Waterloo Housing Group, or one of its constituent Associations? That’s my landlord, the biggest social housing group in the UK. If it is, you can access their website and get some advice there.

When the Thought Police arrive at your door, think -
I'm out.

[Bob Williams]

blacklion1725 wrote:

Bob I love your posts! Would make a great film! Betting does cause rows though – remember when I worked in Southwark a row over a double hit (foul shot) at pool ended in a mass brawl because there was money on it (and not that much). Dies bring out the worst in people – specifically those that are down and chasing their losses.

That’s what my SWMBO also says BL, but reckons that some of the parts I have told her about, would have to be censored. She said some time ago that I should write my life story as a book. “What for?”, I said, “it’s not over yet!” She gave me one of those female looks that mean either “Will I ever understand this idiot?” or “What made me say yes to this idiot?”

In the old Miners’ Welfare where I used to meet mates, play snooker, darts, and party, there were 3 snooker tables. Always a game on, always full, no bother at all, no betting allowed under Club Rules. Then some of the younger guys asked for a pool table. The Games Room was extended into the ‘Snug’ and two pool tables were installed. Unofficial betting started. Several fights later, the pool tables were sold to a pub down the road, which already had its share of trouble. Young Miners did not need an excuse to start a fight anyway, especially at weekends.

Lee that’s a good idea, kind of a sweepstake where nobody wins or loses. Keep on thinking, keep on trucking.

When the Thought Police arrive at your door, think -
I'm out.

[Bob Williams]

I once lost over DM3000* in BAOR, playing 3 Scots Guards at Stud Poker. (I was very, very drunk!) A month later, a plan by myself and 4 mates came together when we all played drunk and took them for much more than that. Two weeks after that, the same 3 very large SG’s made the mistake of attacking me in a German Gasthaus. It was my ex-missus’ Gasthaus and was chock full of mates all on a birthday night out. We eventually threw them in the river at the shallow end, after fisticuffs. They were very large but very slow. Fortunately, the SG’s ended their detachment to our Brigade a month later and went back to the kraphole that was Münster.

I never played cards again when in drink.

*The Deutschmark was 12.50 to the £ at the time (’68) By the 70’s it was 3.50 and falling. The good times were over: booze and frauleins were much more expensive.

When the Thought Police arrive at your door, think -
I'm out.

[Bob Williams]

My dad and his elder brother, my uncle Jack, were best mates as well as bro’s and they each had a system. They set a weekly amount as what they could afford, and picked horses. If they won, half the winnings would go each to my mam and Aunt Tilley (Yes, Matilda: dad called her The Welsh Waltzer, she was a Davies from Ruabon.) If they lost, no more bets until next payday. They never used all of the winnings to make another bet in the same week, but would put the half winnings on 6x Win Doubles: 4 horses, 6 doubles. A complicated bet, but it paid off 3 times with a big win. The biggest was when dad was bedridden with a serious spinal injury from the pit. I was 18 and also at the same pit, before I joined the Army. Dad had been working out this bet for two days after winning a few quid on one horse, gave me the winnings and asked me to go halves. We won about £1100 as I recall, which was a lot of money in 1964 and paid for two weeks at Blackpool for me, two more holidays for my parents once dad was back on his feet. Mam received her half to save and I blew mine on repairing my crashed Ducati 250,* the holiday, drink, women and song. Then wasted the rest.??

My uncle Jack was a Railwayman who worked the express from London to Edinburgh. His (steam) train would pass the rear of his house (in the days when trains did run on time) and my cousin Betty would be waiting for him. He wrapped a bet in a lump of coal and threw it into the garden. Betty would pick it up and lay the bet.

Memories. I can remember those days so clearly, but what I did last week is a complete mystery. Fortunately I have SWMBO to remind me.

*Another story, another day!

When the Thought Police arrive at your door, think -
I'm out.

[Bob Williams]

When the Thought Police arrive at your door, think -
I'm out.

[Bob Williams]

It’s an advantage to have a responsible neighbour as witness John. Just get them to witness your signature on it, have them sign next to their printed name. Not mandatory, they don’t have to read the document, just witness your siggy on it. It does help.

How are you?

When the Thought Police arrive at your door, think -
I'm out.

[Bob Williams]

My Gert’s ‘cousin-in-law’ is the daftest, most insecure internet user I know. She has literally hundreds of contacts and cannot understand why none of us email her anymore. Unfortunately her OH died last year, and he was a great bloke, but when I tried to get him to change her email addy and passwords 3 years ago, she would not listen, “But everyone knows it! How will they contact me”   – “They are not going to contact you: your email has been hacked and they are getting loads of spam, they have all blocked your email address!”

It started 3 years ago I think. We received an email supposedly from them in Thailand, saying that they had been in an accident the day before the date of the email and begging for money via a bank transfer. As we had been down to see them in South Lincs just a couple of days previously, we knew it was wrong. I did a round robin email to all our contacts and several more had the same message. We all phoned and told her to change her email and passwords. 3 years later, she still refuses to change and we all refuse to email her. I could understand it if she was not so intelligent in other ways, but she is: ran a successful business on her own and organised her OH’s Classic Car business for him. I suppose it illustates the difference between intelligence and commonsense, which is really not as common as we believe.

But the one horrible incident that really angers me about these Black Hat Barstewards, is the one that keeps using the name and addy of my oldest mate, who died in Australia 3 Christmases ago. I could cheerfully kill the perpetrator of this evil krap. It still happens occasionally and I block it every time.

When the Thought Police arrive at your door, think -
I'm out.

[Bob Williams]

blacklion1725 wrote:

I love a Greggs – especially the Sausage Rolls – bettered only by Morrisons Lincolnshire ones.

Yes they’re good BL, but in Louth there is a Curtis bakery, a Lincoln company, which makes the best sausage rolls. Ever. Anywhere. And I am a sozzie roll gourmet. All their stuff is really good, I don’t get my baked goods from anywhere else. Best cheese scones and straws I ever tasted, made with just a hint of mustard that doesn’t taste as if it’s there, but adds something to the flavour. I am physically unable to pass the place without buying something, the aroma drags me in. All fresh-baked on premises, any leftovers go to local homeless. Seriously considering putting my old gardening gear on and lying in a shop doorway….

My Gert stopped making cheese scones after we moved here, couldn’t stand the competition. ??

When the Thought Police arrive at your door, think -
I'm out.

[Bob Williams]

Anyone who remembers “MAD” magazine will recognise an alternate I have used: Alfred E. Neuman.

afredeneuman@hotmail.com    and alternative spellings/arrangements, etc. etc. etc.

Back to Topic: Due to the inactivity enforced by being at home caring for my Gert, I am not taking my long walks or walking shorter distances in soft sand at the beach. This last one is worth 3 normal long walks, because of the resistance involved in pushing through the deep, soft sand created on the beach I use by the Netherlands team ‘renourishing, our beaches, to provide better flood protection. Not taking my regular exercise is putting another inch on my waistline atm and I hate it.

The problem is exacerbated by my cooking: I have inherited a gene from my unsainted mother which makes me “add just a little bit more” of everything and anything. I have also found myself telling a certain person to “Get out of my kitchen!” and “!!!”””****”””!!! Leave me alone and I will clean it all my way!” I sincerely hope she gets well soon, then I can interefere with the way she does it all…

When the Thought Police arrive at your door, think -
I'm out.

[Bob Williams]

Steve, it’s a long way for them to come to your mountain, but this Lincolnshire company is a mobile Hog Roaster:

http://tinyurl.com/yathoj7d

And their Roasts taste absolutely delicious!

They are very, very busy all year round. There are loads of Events, fetes, village Shows etc. in Lincs, including the Stationary Engine Shows my son organises and takes his engines to. In the season, they have to be booked well in advance. A Licolnshire success story, not surprising in the UK’s Food County.

Stop drooling at the back there!

When the Thought Police arrive at your door, think -
I'm out.

[Bob Williams]

Thanks guys, now I am more confused! ???

I think that I will plod on with the current Freesat setup for a while. Sooner or later we will find the right flat/bungalow in Louth and that will mean a tremendous upheaval, as my Gert is totally resistant to change, even though she was the one to originally want to move. Have to get current health problems out of the way before considering anything else.

There seem to be Pro’s and Con’s for each of the devices mentioned. I will take a broader look later in the year. Moving into Louth will mean access to Virgin Media or BT. Louth is now fully cabled up: a friend on the outer edge of town is getting >50Mbps.

When the Thought Police arrive at your door, think -
I'm out.

[Bob Williams]

It has been known for me & my Gert to take a walk across the Sutton-on-Sea coastwalk for a mile or two, then come back and have a double scoop of delicious local Dennets ice cream. On a very cold winter’s day. We get some strange looks, two oldpharts swaddled up in thick clothes, boots and hats, sitting on a bench in the park and eating a humungous ice cream.

When the Thought Police arrive at your door, think -
I'm out.

[Bob Williams]

Thanks BL, just been looking at the Streaming Stick+ and it does look the business. Unfortunately I now feel sick, having recently set up Freesat on a Humax box.

Guess you also feel as sick as I do at the Cup results. We beat Hull at the KC stadium earlier in the season. Oh well, who needs a Cup run, when you are struggling in the League? ?

When the Thought Police arrive at your door, think -
I'm out.

[Bob Williams]

That could be the new ringtone on your phone , JB!?

When the Thought Police arrive at your door, think -
I'm out.

[Bob Williams]

Several things on your Detest List that I have done or eaten over the years Richard!

I grew up in an NCB estate house, dad was a miner. Coal fires and a coal oven, toasting pikelets* (erroneously named ‘crumpets’ by most) over the red embers of a coal fire. Frying chips and anything else available, (in lard) on the same fire, in a well-used, blackened chip pan. Cooking a chicken or other poultry, and bacon, to the point of a crispy skin, in a coal oven: to this day I love crispy chicken skin. I was fortunate enough to have an Army cook as a mate during most of 2 postings of 8 years’ total in BAOR. My breakfast bacon was always crispy if Dave was on duty, just like at home. Had he been better looking, and had each of us been of that inclination, I may well have married him. ??? Fortunately, he was overweight, ugly and both of us were heterosexual. But he was an outstanding cook.

I never add salt to cooking, nor do I add it to any meals and neither does SWMBO. Our parents’ generation added salt to cooking, especially potatoes and vegetables. My own parents never understood cooking by gas or electric, which is why a close eye had to be kept on them daily when they moved to a brand new Sheltered Housing flat. The sight of my dad attempting to “grill some eggs” under a gas oven grill, was enough to demonstrate that.

Cereals are another matter. I used to love Honey Shreddies, but they have been removed from the shelves and I cannot now find them anywhere. So I eat “ordinary” Shreddies, with a ¼ teaspoon of sugar. I only eat wholemeal bread from a local baker. I am guilty of eating thin slices of lean boiled ham or roast beef, from a local butcher, on granary rolls (rolls are “cobs” in Nottinghamshire).

I make my food decisions based not upon what the veggie and Healthy eating brigade think I should eat, but what I like and what is proven to not upset my wrecked digestion. My one vice is McVities Digestive and/or Hovis biccies. I really do not know how I got to be almost 73: grew up eating food fried with lard, toast with beef dripping or lashings of butter, cooking with salt, the list goes on.

*Pikelets were invented by Cromwell’s Model Army during the English Civil War. Lumps of aerated dough in a simple but special recipe, cooked over an open fire on the end of a 10 to 12 foot Pike. First used, I believe, in the siege of Newark Castle, hence the word is recognised all over the eastern East Midlands.

When the Thought Police arrive at your door, think -
I'm out.

[Bob Williams]

I had to stop eating curry after R&R in Hong Kong: I ate a pile of street vendor chicken wings and came out with a really painful, allover body rash, worst around my mouth and nose. Allergy investigation by an Army medic found the culprit to be 2 components of curry. Now I am much older and have virtually destroyed innards, I would be barred from anything spicy anyway, according to one of my consultants. That joins alcohol on the list of prohibited food and drink. I used to love curry. I once stayed with an Army mate in Bradford, at his mum’s apartments above a Bangladeshi restaurant where she worked as cleaner and caretaker. The meals sent up from below were absolutely wonderful.

Ed I understand your antipathy towards the modern Food Police and their methods to extend the Nanny State, but I also understand the reasons for removing much sugar and salt. I see you are a lover of Baked Beans, as am I, but I still buy the only small tins I can get, which are those with reduced s&s. To bring back the “real” taste, I melt a little butter and squirt a little Heinz Tomato Ketchup into the pan of beans, whilst heating them. (By butter I actually mean Clover, and not “Clover Lite”. It fools my taste buds and makes the minimum contribution as a ‘Healthy Spread’)

Richard I understand your own reaction, I also understand that you are maybe having a Bad Day amongst many Bad days. However, Ed is entitled to his own food preferences, as are are we all.

When the Thought Police arrive at your door, think -
I'm out.

[Bob Williams]

Richard I buy the Chums High Waist trousers & jeans because of the medical issue involved, but I would have bought them, had I known about them, without that problem. They are stated to have a 2″ higher waist band than normal, but I think it may be more like 1½ inches, maybe splitting hairs but seems like that to me. They are certainly comfortable for those of us in later life, with ‘later life body’ problems!

My GD certainly wants me to have fun, usually with her! I love the occasional outing that we have with just the two of us and I will be ready for the disappointment when she is older and seeing friends more often, which is life of course.

When the Thought Police arrive at your door, think -
I'm out.

[Bob Williams]

Due to my Parastomal hernia that produces a left profile larger than the right, I have to buy high waist trousers and jeans. I use “Chums” a lot for these:     http://tinyurl.com/ydc9f3md     – they call their jeans “denim trousers” which is just dumb, they are plainly jeans when they arrive. They used to be of uncertain fit and quality when the company was administered from Glasgow and I made several returns until I got the right combination. Then they suddenly changed to Knowsley Business Park: Liverpool L34 and the last pair of jeans I bought were via Amazon, but ticketed as Chums! They have been OK, best yet and very cheap.

I go through socks and u/pants more than other clothes items, so I buy any old karp from Asda, Tesco, Morrisons, wherever. This Christmas my 12 yo gdaughter took pity on granddad and bought me some classy, fancy socks in crazy designs and colours. She must know me better than I thought she did: handing me the parcelled pressie, she said “These are to reflect your personality, granddad!” Saucy little minx! Although not so little now, by her 13th. in June she will probably be taller than me.

I hope she doesn’t buy me pants next, I would probably give her grandma a heart attack with what she might choose.

When the Thought Police arrive at your door, think -
I'm out.

[Bob Williams]

My first home in Lincolnshire was on the Eastern outskirts of Louth. My neighbour was an engineer and one of the bosses at the local Council Waste depot. He told me that, in the first bout of Recycling fever, his Council bosses decided a dedicated waste truck would take glass. This was fine for the first few months, until the glass at the bottom of the truck machine became powdered. This resulted in the streets twinkling in the sun, as they became coated in very finely powdered glass. The odorous brown substance then hit the revolving object and the Council had to stump up for hundreds of streets to be cleared of the stuff. My neighbour also told me that he had informed his Council mandarins that this is exactly what would happen. He was given early retirement as a reward, with a promotion immediately prior to retirement, assuring him of a healthy golden handshake and a bigger pension.

“That was done to keep your conclusions to yourself then?”    –   “Of course: what would you have done in my position?”   –   “The same, mate!”

Having worked at another County Council myself, I recognised the tactics. It’s one direction in which your Council Tax goes. Some would call it Hush Money.

When the Thought Police arrive at your door, think -
I'm out.

[Bob Williams]

Pinched this from GENUKI about my village:

Gilbert de LEKEBURN (or TODWALLE) founded a Priory of Cistercian nuns here shortly before the reign of King John, circa 1150. All the monastic buildings have since disappeared and a more modern mansion built on the site.
The Anglican parish church is dedicated to All Saints, and was built about 1380 out of chalk.
The church was thoroughly restored in 1868, seats 240 and is a Grade I listed building with British Heritage.

Once there were 3 Methodist chapels, now all are private homes. We have a village pump, which was the main source of village water until 1953. That information came from an old chap in his 90’s, now long deceased, shortly after I came here in 2003. The Priory has a long, earthen surface lane winding around to it through old trees. When I first came here I used to take my dog Charlie down the lane, until one day a guy from a house at the entrance told me that the inhabitants of  a mansion at the site of what used to be “The Abbey” objected to my presence on their private road. I answered thus: “It was a Priory, not an Abbey. It has no signage informing of a private road. Therefore I have a perfect right to walk there, until the legal position is correctly communicated to me.” I walked Charlie down there for a week or so, until one day his hackles went up and he adopted a real canine Threat Posture. Looking to the bend in the lane, I saw the biggest black cat I ever saw outside of a zoo. I wish I had taken my camera, but had to drag Charlie away. He really wanted to have some of that animal: it was twice his size, but Charlie tackled anything, which was the reason I had to part with him. He was a Rescue dog and saw any other form of animal life as a threat to me.

I reported the Big Cat and was told by the RSPCA that it had been seen in other parts of Lincolnshire. It was eventually shot somewhere else, I believe. It was a Puma and I was most pleased that I was unable to make its acqaintance.?

Church, in there around the other side are 3 of my mates, I don’t plan on joining them anytime soon.

Images: Copyright Richard Croft and licensed for reuse under Creative Commons Licence.

Pump, handle still attached, still works if needed. There is a huge aquifer beneath the village:

When the Thought Police arrive at your door, think -
I'm out.

[Author]

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