It is always a joy to visit our friends in Wainfleet, Lincolnshire. Some of you who have been with the BlackLOG for some time will already be aware of Teach who delights in picking up on any offences to the English language that I manage to sneak past Mrs B (This normally happens when Mrs B is tired or when I have added content after her editing. A.k.A while Mrs B is looking the other way). I like to think that I have inspired Teach to create her own Blog (skipperthequarterhorse It might be a bit horsey for some of you but I like Teach’s wit and style even if it specialises in galloping all over the BlackLOG. Teach, feel free to send your Blog address to my Ntlworld.com email address. I currently seem to be able to receive messages but not send them from it “Curse be on you MS Outlook!”. P.S. Teach, you might want to skip the next couple of lines or at least send me the Blog address before you read on. No particular reason…….) A huge prize for any one who reports back to me even the slightest wiff of a grammatical error, a hint of a spelling mistake or even a split infinitive when it should have been a double…..No pressure then Teach (Not that you have been reading this bit…..)
Our first visit to Hugh and Teach, many years ago, was to a fully fledged working dairy farm with real cows that went moo and everything, always the best kind in my view. As well as a menagerie of other animals that make up your typical farm, including numerous cats that actually worked for a living (aside 1),loads of chickens which came with a character filled cockerel called Dinner (aside 2). Recently, however, Hugh has got tired of working for a living and joined our cats as a lad of leisure. This was remarkably simple to do and just involved getting rid of all the cows leaving him plenty of time to concentrate on his favourite hobby - falling out with the neighbours. This must take considerable effort from him as he is such a nice bloke. (He told Mrs B and me that the cows had gone to stay with a little old lady in the city, where they would be much happier, and explaining we could probably go and visit them when they had settled in properly. I wonder if she is any relation to the little old lady who lives in the country and regularly gave good homes to all our cats, gerbils, budgies etc…when I was a kid. I really should track her down and ask for them all back, it’s just that my mother refuses to give me her address….). But that’s only part of the story, the real reason for our trips into darkest Lincolnshire is to catch up on the latest gossip and scandal. It’s like entering a living version of the News of the World. I’m sure these things go on under our very noses in good old Bishops Stortford but we certainly never find out about them. Between each visit to Lincolnshire people seem to regularly switch partners (thankfully Hugh and Teach seem stable enough), local Mayors get done for embezzlement. Their cleaner’s mum turned out to be running a brothel from the upstairs of a local public house. Teach went way beyond the call of duty for our latest visit and entertained us by running around a field watched by her bemused horse “Skipper” who took up a front row position and stood contentedly munching on grass. We can't wait for our next visit, I'm thinking possibly a scandal involving human sacrifice might be fun.....
Teach puts herself through yet another vigorous workout, including, ooh, stepping over the pole......
Skipper grabs a snack while he waits for Teach to start her next routine.
Berlin: - never a dull moment
The taxi that picked me up from Berlin airport had a TV in the centre console which was pretty cool for watching the footie, except every time the handbrake was applied the picture vanished. I have never wanted to hit more red lights in my life, not even when I was on my old school bus. I'm pretty sure that once the driver realised I was interested in the game he started to jump the lights. Gee,thanks.
Because my trip was taken at such late notice I ended up in the designer hotel that I had so much difficulty in the last time I stayed there. This time I managed to turn all the lights off within half an hour and as an added bonus the previous occupant had dismantled the constantly beeping phone, saving me the trouble of doing so. It looked like they had been less subtle than me though and used a sledge hammer; either that or his over-sized German wife had sat on it.
This visit I was disappointed to discover that the mini bar in the rooms are complimentary, which for a non-drinker like me is about as useful as offering a cannibal free reign over a salad bar.
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(1) This would come as a real shock to McG & Mischief whose very existence is dedicated to sleeping and being waited on paw and claw. We had a home invasion the other day when a beautiful black and white cat burst through the front door and started to make himself at home. While our two complained bitterly they did not so much as lift a paw to defend their territory, leaving it down to me to forcibly evict our friendly but never the less unwelcome guest. Our two would have been straight down the Cats Protection league if I had not done so. As long as they got a lift that is. Another example of their commitment to the cat equivalent of a dole queue was when I attempted some lawn repairs the other week. Within seconds of me leaving the scene the garden was full of birds; both of the cats just watched them lazily from the conservatory window. Mrs B was not much better calling out to me that the birds were eating all my grass seeds. Not one of them thinking to go outside and chase them away- had they all recently been watching Alfred Hitchcock “The Birds” and were too terrified to venture outside…?(Return to text)
McG in shock when he finds out that some cats work for a living
Mischief waiting indignantly for a lift down to the Cats Protection League to register a formal complaint.
(2) We asked Teach what we were eating one evening
Teach :- “Dinner”
Us :- “Yes we know that, but what are we eating?”
Teach :- “Dinner”
Us :- “Oh!”
If it’s any consolation to ‘Dinner’, he tasted very nice. (Return to text)
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