Do We Make Ripples Or Not!

Hi,

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Welcome to a new week.
I wonder what it holds for us!

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I have often thought that so many people seem to be willing to pay their monies and go to see mediums and fortune tellers.

They want to know stuff that seems to be of prime importance to peoples all over the world., such as ‘Will I fall in love soon’, or ‘Is my lover unfaithful to me’….or ‘Will my hopes be fulfilled’.

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I wonder if we really do want or need to know the future, after all there are bad things that can happen as well as the fulfillment of desirable dreams.

Would we really want to risk finding someone who really could do the deed and who then told you exactly what sad things were waiting just along the path, or even far into the future.

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At present, if you don’t even know for sure what the day holds, never mind the future….then you can truly believe that the world IS your lobster,

But, if you think otherwise, then what is the point in living your life fully.

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It is also true that you are giving away your strength to someone else because the world is full of money-making charlatans who could cause untold damage too.

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I remember a conversation from years ago, while discussing seances etc..

A lady who was visiting an American city on business went to see a fortune teller who had been mentioned to her as being very good.

It was one of those impulses that strike you as a good idea when you are on your own and far from home, and she acted upon it.

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She was at that time happily married, with a loving husband and a child, and hopes of completing their family with the addition of one more member when the time felt right.

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The lady she visited, at the top of the stairs, gave the consultation.

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It resulted in the poor businesswoman only ever having one child.

After all, who could risk having another child join the family, after being solemnly informed that if they did then one of those children would die.

She was told that she would never successfully raise more than one child.

As a result, she felt she could never risk anything happening to the one beloved child she had.

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Afterwards there was no way to remove the dread from her mind because …what if the reading she was given was true.

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Better really to live each day of your life as fully and completely as you wish to, and making your decisions as you need to, depending upon what mood and circumstances dictate.

You cannot live happily with such fears.

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I mean, all of us have to die of something, it is the human condition, but do we really want to know where and when and what, if we do not have to!

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Just think, even if you were given a list of only wonderful things that were going to happen to you, would it not also remove the basic joy of a life where good things MAY happen at any moment.

I don’t know, but I think that I prefer it this way, when each day may contain a wonderment and the appearance of a sad or scary thing is also a total secret.

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I suppose that the theory of the future either being totally planned for us no matter what we do, or the opposite theory that we can affect the future with the ripples from our actions in the now, are also best left to work out as life unfolds.

There is always the danger that if we think we know what is in the future then we will strive just that bit less and therefore lose the game.

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Myself, I try to do my best anyway, and then see what happens, along with all of the excitement of the ride.

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So, what do you think of it all.

J,

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To The Beat Of A Sunday Drum.

Hi Peeps,

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The bells are pealing madly here to welcome a Sunday.

I  suppose that it could be very annoying to some, but I love it, quintessentially British childhood memories there.

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In those far-off days of a simple sort of life, just after WWII, we were grateful for any form of entertainment that would relieve long and bland days.

Once a month or so we children would be pleased to suddenly hear the deep sound of a drum disturbing the Sabbath day.

It heralded the arrival of a group of people from the Salvation Army.

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They wore dark blue uniforms.

The ladies in skirted suits with very old fashioned bonnets with ribbons tied to the side of the chin.

The men wore suits and military style caps to match.

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The music was played on the drums and tambourines to accompany the solemn hymn singing , interspersed with preaching.

We children happily stood around in a circle and absorbed the whole fascinating process as often as we possibly could.

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Of course other visitors such as the French Onion Man on his vegetable festooned bicycle, and the Ragman, were equally important.

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After the singing, the Sally would go around knocking on the doors for some kind of monetary donation from the usually cash-strapped householders.

I don’t think that their arrival was seen as such a desirable situation from our parents point of view as money was short and eating was given much more importance than religion.

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However, for a short period of time, I was forced to attend Sunday School at some local church or other.

As my family were not churchgoers, I assumed that they just wanted to get rid of me for some time so that they could get some space to kick back and read the news Of The World in blissful peace.

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I used to read that newspaper myself actually, even as a small child.

I would lie on the floor with the paper spread out before me, and learn all about vicars running away with lady parishioners, and all other kinds of scurrilous happenings out there in the wide world of real life….this probably as helped to soften the paper too!

My parents probably liked it when I was always reading because I was a great one for asking questions.

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It eventually got so bad that my harassed mother would answer them all by saying that…”That’s for me to know, and for you to find out”.

So I would ask other people, such as my Uncle Herbie.

And I began obsessively reading through a huge set of encyclopedias which suddenly appeared from out of the depths of the cupboard, in an alcove at the side of the coal fire.

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It was a nice set, with tooled green covers and thick pages that made an important noise when you turned them….and the pictures were all a sort of greeny colour.

They got read over and over again through the following years and contained many statements about other races of people that would nowadays be considered to be criminally racist in their meanings.

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A very different world in those days.

j,x.

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Big Bad Wolves Abound!

Hi.

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Greetings from a land of sunshine….no, I kid you not!

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I have to tell you that I got pretty pissed off this morning when the post arrived, well it didn’t just suddenly arrive by magic or by Owl Post or something equally esoteric….the postman brought it !

And it was very very annoying.

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The bundle contained a renewal notice of our combined ‘house and contents’ insurance….I know, it is bloody boring stuff and usually we just note that it has been renewed and pop it away in the drawer in case some catastrophe should befall us in the coming ‘well protected?’ year.

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Well, this time I felt unusually sensible and energised for some reason, so I decided to actually thoroughly read it through.

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And what did I find, tucked away on a page at the back!

There was a new tit-bit added….which had been given a clear ‘Yes’ answer.

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It said that the building had never, in it’s past, been used for anything other than domestic purposes.

Who inserted this question all of a sudden!

And who bloody answered ‘Yes’ to it, cos it certainly was not us, as the premises WERE once used for business purposes.

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Do you know what….that makes you suddenly realize what the result would be if you made some large claim or other.

Say the property got hit by a plane, which happened just a couple of days ago when a house was hit by a small 2 person aircraft….or perhaps a runaway tanker….or a giant stamped on it!

Well, the claim would probably be dis-allowed wouldn’t it….because we LIED!!!

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Honestly, I was, change that to am, so annoyed by it!

And now we will have to cancel that insurance because I don’t trust them anymore….not that anyone seems to trust them very much anyway.

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It is like signing documents that your solicitor gives you, and there is a little bit of writing that advises you to take legal advice before signing this document as it is binding and could have legal consequences.

Why do they think we got a solicitor to do it….probably because we DON’T know what we are doing….or we would do it ourselves in the first bloody place.

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I remember years ago, when Big H was self-employed and we got our accounts done by the accountant, giving him every paper and receipt etc. that he could possibly need.

We got pulled in to the tax office because the firm of accountants had not done their job properly and had neglected to do some cross referencing….which the taxman said was obvious because some ticks were missing that are usually there when the cross-checking is done.

He said it was obviously not our fault and that the accountant had been careless in his preparation.

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Wow, what a relief.

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The taxman followed this by saying that he was still going to make us pay the overlooked tax….plus a big fine….because he would have to let everybody off with things otherwise.

He was a total bastard and we had to sell our utility shares that the government sold to everyone at that time, our savings to do the house up, and the money that we had saved towards that current years taxation.

We could have fought our corner I suppose but we were so stressed already and I think that the need to do so would probably have killed Big H off.

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I did ring around for advice and even asked the accountant’s governing body what could be done.

Upon being informed that all that they could possibly eventually do, was write a little squib about it in their publication, sent to accountants, as a means of smacking his hands.

Big Help!!!

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So there you have it, we are all little naive sheep, out there in a world of expensive, non-accountable, devious, Big Bad Wolves.

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If you are still with me, I cannot think why, because even I feel totally depressed and angry by now!

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Wow, that was a long rant.

Anyway, have a non-confrontational day yourself,

Moi,x.

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Will This Horror Ever End.

Hello Folks,
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I am saddened to have to write this post on what is unfortunately a sadly familiar subject.

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I read in the press about this video, which was apparently taken at an Essex abattoir.

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The film footage was taken secretly by animal welfare campaigners for Animal Aid, over a period of a few days, and shows pigs being savagely ill-treated by slaughterhouse workers.

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The animals are seen having cigarettes put out on their faces, they are beaten, they are shocked carelessly, hit with sharp paddles and generally caused great fear and suffering.

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This is a huge slaughterhouse which kills about 6,000 pigs per week.
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Unbelievably there will be no prosecution for doing this.

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The following footage is harrowing and should be approached with this warning in mind, and it also provides more comprehensive information about what was consequently done about the cruelty.

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Footage shot at Elmkirk Ltd (Cheale Meats) slaughterhouse (5 min version) from Animal Aid on Vimeo.

This film shows the violations of the Welfare of Animals (Slaughter or Killing) Regulations that Animal Aid found after secretly filming at Elmkirk Ltd (Cheale Meats) slaughterhouse in Essex. More information at http://animalaid.org.uk/h/n/NEWS/news_slaughter/ALL/2525///

There is also a longer 35-minute compilation here: http://www.vimeo.com/26861795

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Do You Remember Me?

Hi,

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How are you today.

Come on, it has to be better today ‘cos it is a Friday once more!

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Unfortunately the weather here has continued to be coldish and very grayish, which is a bit on the disappointing side given that we are at the end of July, which is the height of our summertime.

We have all lost our earlier tans and are definitely a very typically British pale green colour again.

We are a people who wear a natural camouflage….if we were invaded it wold be very hard to see us in the countryside….that is probably why the earlier  and less technological of our race used to smear blue woad all over themselves.

It was so they could see each other easily within this green and pleasant land of ours.

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I have had a quiet week but one interesting thing happened.

I received a message from a lady who had been searching for me all over the place before getting my e-mail from a family member she had discovered on-line.

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It appears that she went to the same grammar school as I did and she wants to get in touch etc.

How strange it was.

I had never realised it before, but I can remember just about nothing about those days at all.

Although I was at the bloody place from 11 to 16, it would appear that I either have Alzheimer’s, or I did not enjoy it at all.

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Having said that, I can of course remember particular instances with different friends, which took place during those long studious years of scholarly toil.

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The e-mail told me that we knew each other and on at least one occasion we had been to each other’s houses.

I, however, have only a complete blank about the whole thing.

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After subconsciously mulling on it for a few days, I have discovered a sliver of memory where I am standing talking to a taller girl and thinking that she had the most amazing hair, which was so black that it had blue in it.

Perhaps this is her!

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Isn’t it strange.

I wonder if other people can recall everything about that period of their lives.

But hey, let’s be real, it was about 50 years ago and that is a whole lifetime gone past.

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But then again, perhaps I AM in the early stages of losing it completely….a bit like being totally drunk….only much cheaper!

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Have a good one yourself.

J,x.

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Suffering Succotash!

Hi,

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Isn’t it funny how you can be totally struck by something that you have never noticed before.

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It’s like a ‘Sylvester The Cat‘ cartoon I saw again recently.

You remember how it goes….when he says the catchphrase, he pronounces it is ‘thufferin thuccatash’…. because he has a lisp.
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After years of seeing his cartoons, it suddenly became very necessary for me to know what ‘suffering succatash’ actually means.

He always says it, but I have never actually wondered what it meant until now.

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A Sylvester The Cat Cartoon…. just to remind you.
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As they keep disabling these cartoons regularly, here is the link to YouTube for your delectation….just in case!

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Succotash is actually a meal, of which there are various recipes, based upon corn and lima beans.

Supposedly, it is delicious, except if you happen to hate corn….and of course, lima beans!

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Succotash Recipe.

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I suppose for those of you who are deeply into this particular groove, the ultimate pleasure would have to be stuffing your face with Succotash while watching Sylvester cartoons, preferably dressed in a complete ‘Tweetie Pie’ suit.

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It takes all sorts….and you know who you are!

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J.

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Counting Kisses.

Hi,

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Well, here I am once more, prowling about the house in the early hours.

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I did go to bed just after twelve, but then did the old thing of lying there wide-eyed as the hours passed slowly by.

Although it was at least snug and warm in bed, I had to leave it eventually because I kept yawning and making my eyes water, so that they needed wiping every five minutes….which then resulted in the usual problem of getting an eyelash in my eye….so I had to get up anyway.

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All of that old stuff about getting sleepy by counting sheep is pure crap, because I did that.

Well, more or less the same thing, because I started trying to remember everybody I have kissed, since my first young and very tentative crush.

He was very sweet, and we stood outside his back door for ages, gently pressing our closed lips together and being thrilled with the moment.

So innocent and so very nice.

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I also remembered the first time my friend and I went to a party and we all played that game where you go outside the room with somebody and kiss them.

The boy that I went with gave me my first french kiss and I was disgusted!

Yucky when you were not prepared for it, but it definitely gave us girls something to whisper and giggle about all week when we should have been doing schoolwork.

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Anyway, I tried counting kisses and then how many different sports cars I had been in, and which was the best one.

I still think that it was the old E-type Jag! In Red!

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Then I had to get up and finally ended up having to wash my eye out, because I had made it sore by trying to remove the eyelash with twisted-up toilet paper.

There is no end to the exciting things I get up to is there!

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The world out there is very dark tonight, with everyone’s house lights switched off, and nothing much is moving.

I did watch a really big black and white cat slowly strolling about enjoying the night.

He was walking along the pavement opposite before he caught an interesting scent and spent ages tracking it out onto the road and snuffling around following it.

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Once he was bored with that he became interested in something in a garden and stood for ages with his body halfway through the garden railings , just staring intently into the bushes, before once more slowly stalking off just like a tiny lion.

Obviously a fine predator in his own night world, seeking out all kinds of unsuspecting smaller prey, perhaps even seeing some quite strange things.

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As for me, I think that I might make myself some strong tea and consume the remaining piece of Brie cheese in the fridge, along with some nice hard oatmeal biscuits and a sliced tomato.

I have left the electric blanket on 3….that is safe even though Big H is asleep…so that if and when I finally feel ready to try and sleep I shall be nice and snuggly again.

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I hope that you did better, and that you managed to sleep easy.

J,x.

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So It’s A Normal Sort Of Tuesday.

Hi Folks,

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So Tuesday beckons.

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It is not a great morning weather-wise today, as it is gray gray and more gray.

Yesterday came as a disappointment after all of that sun and heat on Sunday, which now seems to have been a one-off,  as the more usual rubbish weather has quickly resumed.

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I think that today will probably be spent working on a new painting that I started recently, and it will also include a medium sized  walk even if the sky empties above us.

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Now that Big H is getting better, we are trying to get ourselves fit once more.

So much of the past few years has been spent housebound that we are definitely out-of-condition and somewhat falling to bits.

But it is never too late….I hope!

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The pot plants in the patio garden are looking fine though. after all the rainfall.

Included with the older plants, there are six beautiful hostas that I bought from a plant stall at Tynemouth Market in the spring.

They have grown huge, with large variegated leaves, and are all proudly displaying long plumes of pale purply flowers.

Very lovely indeed.

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There are also four huge pieces of sandstone stuck out there, which Big H wanted to keep in case he needed them at some time.

They are so heavy that I cannot move them even a little bit, so I am having to put up with them until such time as he recovers enough to move them somewhere else himself.

Men! You just get a place looking the way you want it too, after lots and lots of hard work, and then they spoil it.

It is inbuilt I think, they are totally bonkers sometimes!

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It could be worse though, because he could be a collector of tractors. or rare old bricks or something, so I don’t suppose that I can complain too much in truth.

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I did read the other day that everyone collects something.

My mum actually used to have stacks of bottles of perfume that she never really seemed to use, so they must have been ‘just in case’.

Some people collect DVD’s or CD’s, horse brasses, spiders, or even clothes or shoes….so I suppose it could be true.

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I expect that I quite frequently have a collection of empty beer cans or wine bottles around the place, but I seriously do have to stop storing too many books at home because I always end up going too far with it.

I would actually prefer to be a collector of diamonds!!!!

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So, do have a good one, ‘cos you can never have this particular one again.

J,x.

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Typical Man!

Hi,

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Another quick one for you.

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You know what women say about men not wanting to get married.
You can see that they start young.

 

This YouTube item is the newest sensation, and you can see why!

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Now THAT’S What I Call A Long Garden!

Hello Folks,
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I hope that you had a fine weekend yourself.

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We had a lovely one up here, because the weather did live up to the ‘sunny’ forecast, and Big H and I made the most of it all.
At one point, we went to the garden to cut the grass and generally tidy everything up again, but the recent monsoon-like weather has caused the bloody weeds to grow huge and multiply shockingly.

But at least it is half done now….so only half more to go!

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I don’t know how we would have coped if we had lived at a little cottage called The Gables, which is about 11 miles from York, a property which has just come onto the market.

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This property consists of a very normal little ex-railway level crossing keeper’s cottage….and there’s a mouthful for you!

What is unusual about it is the garden.

After all, how often do you get the chance of a garden which is three quarters of a mile long….and 30′ wide.

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Yes, of course, it used to be part of a private railway which ran from Easingwold to join with the main East Coast service from London to Edinburgh.

It was eventually closed in the 1950’s.

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This property was bought almost a decade ago by a Mr & Mrs Topham.

During the past years they have enjoyed their unusual plot which now boasts of refinements such as ….

a pond,

a railway carriage, which used to house goats,

a 70′ nissan hut workshop,

2 greenhouses,

a wildlife area,

a rose garden,

2 paddocks,

two large greenhouses and a stream.

Possibly even a partridge in a pear tree too!

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Unfortunately Mr Topham, who is now 73, had a stroke last year and probably needs a garden where it does not require a person to spend 15 minutes to walk from the house down to the end of it.

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It is on the market with the estate agents Stephensons, in North Yorkshire.

Use this link to access the sales particulars if you are intrigued by the idea of it.

It has been offered at a buying price of £340,000.

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Surely a gardener’s wet dream!

J.

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