What’s the Story in Dalamory

Years ago I used to gather with a whole load of friends (teenagers, so it was a very long time ago…..) We avidly watched the Royal Variety Performance on a Sunday night as it was then, delighted to see top variety acts, singers and comedians. Last night I happened to be a bit bored, so spent some idle time flicking back and forth channels. What a disappointment. Either we are all much more sophisticated nowadays, or there is no such thing as variety any more. I really feel sorry for the royals who have to sit through the whole of such rubbish and in public view. (Royal Box.)

Or are they plotting mahem?

Each year round about this time I sort out the list for Christmas cards. And each year I try to work out how to do labels. In the six years since I have had a computer based address list I have managed it properly once. This year I cannot even find the bit in the instruction book which gives the modus operandi.

And a good king Wenceslas to you.

And it was on the morning of the fourth day
that Piglet’s bottle came floating past him,
and with one loud cry of “Honey!” Pooh
plunged into the water, seied the bottle,
and struggled back to his tree again.

Tigger’s Little Book of Diet and Exercise

A member of my past congregation sends me on the church magazine every couple of months or so. It sometimes provokes sad memories, maybe because someone has died, but often there are happier times brought to mind. This month I was amused by the following:

Who brings presents to good little kittens?
Santa Paws

Sssss! Don’t tell Fox.

Well she had been snuffling in the wet grass…..

Time for a haircut again. That means driving into Oban in the rain again. I can’t quite make myself get out the Christmas CDs, though that might put me in the mood to encourage the yearly ritual of getting the decorations down from the loft.

Let’s be honest – my job is to encourage someone else to get the decorations down.

To think – I enjoyed England’s victory in the Ashes last year. And now……enough said.

And still it rains.
And still the builders do not appear.
And Christmas is coming.

Another ordinary day…….

Planet Earth is an outstanding nature series from the BBC. It seems trite to call it just a “nature series” for it looks at the earth as near as is possible, like an outsider. One insider watching it last night took exception to a particularly nasty scene of a tiger killing a monkey. The sound effects obviously meant danger to Misty Marshall. She proceeded to growl, then bark, then patrol the policies……

I shall need to monitor programmes that have the nine o’clock watershed.