To see the latest photographs of the pups, Montey and Max, at the "Merrie Monk" pub click this link. The photos were taken with John G's latest aquisition, a digital SLR camera. Sorry about the quality folks!

There are some more photos just here. Not about the dogs, but about the re-enactment society I was once in four years ago. I dropped out because some of the scenes I thought were a bit OTT, and in bad taste; and now I'm a bit too old to go prancing around the countryside dressed in army gear! Still, it was fun while it lasted.

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I'm sad today. The attractive young woman across the road has finally fitted some thick curtains in her bedroom window.

       *Sigh*

C'est la vie. . . . .

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Last Friday I was having a little snooze in my armchair when I was suddenly awoken by someone continuously ringing the doorbell.

Now this really annoys me because for one thing I don’t like being disturbed when I’ve had a hard day playing with the pup, and for another, I didn’t install a doorbell just for peoples amusement. So you can imagine that I wasn’t in an amicable frame of mind when I opened the door.

“Yes?” I snapped to the smartly dressed young exec-twat standing there holding a clip board.

When I saw that board I knew straight away that he was a time waster, and I would have a job getting rid of him.

“Can’t you read?” I asked, pointing to a large notice in my window that says “I DO NOT BUY FROM THE DOOR – COLD CALLERS AND RELIGIOUS NUTTERS ARE NOT WELCOME HERE!”

“Oh no, I’m not selling anything. We are in the area and thought that you might like to try a free week of Sky TV. You are under no obligation to buy. If you are not convinced what a great package this is after that time we will take it away and it won’t cost you a penny” he said.

I thought “This twat is too good to miss. I’ve got nothing to do this afternoon so I might as well see what he has to offer”.

“OK, come in and do what you have to do then”. A big smile spread across his face, “I’ll just get the equipment out of the van and be right with you sir” he said. With that he scurried off and came back with several cardboard boxes which he plonked onto the floor in the lounge. “Would you like it in here?” he said. “Why not?” I replied.

He ripped open the boxes and spread the impressive looking equipment, with it’s remote unit and oodles of leads with weird looking plugs on the end, all over my settee and went over to my 24” DVD player which looks remarkably like a TV set.

He spent several minutes looking round the back of it and finally said “I’m not familiar with this particular model, have you got the instruction manual for it?”

“Yes, I’ll get it for you” and I went upstairs and messed around in the drawers for about 10 minutes. I finally found it and took it to him.

He thumbed through it for a while and said “But it’s all in French and German, and I don’t speak either of them”.

“Yes, the reason being that I bought this DVD player in France”

“DVD player? Oh no sir, it’s your television set I need” he said.

“I haven’t got one”.

Stunned silence. “Er, what do you mean you ‘haven’t got one’ ?”

“Just that. I haven’t had one for 12 years. I don’t want one, because I consider that the crap turned out nowadays isn’t worth watching and certainly not worth the exorbitant licence fee they charge.” was my reply.

“You mean you let me open this lot and you knew all along that you couldn’t use it? Why didn’t you tell me that you hadn’t got a TV when I first came?”

“You didn’t ask me!”

I’ll leave you, dear reader, to imagine what happened next, and I’ll give a prize to the first person who gives me the correct answer; just as soon as I get out of hospital!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Many years ago I read of a similar incident in America where a vacuum cleaner salesman, who wouldn't take no for an answer, pushed past the dear old lady who answered the door and then proceeded to throw soot and flour all over her carpet to demonstrate the cleaner. When he asked her where he could plug the cleaner in she replied that she didn't have an electric supply to the house, she only had oil lamps!

I never thought that something like that would happen to me. But it did! Thank you God, it made my day. . .

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Typical of this Government! Something else to waste the taxpayers money on.

Surely if any parents wanted any advice about sex and the mating habits of humans they could ask their children.

After all, the kids nowadays know everything.

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According to my "Boy Scout Diary 1948" it is exactly 60 years ago today that I bought my first fountain pen.

For the technically minded it is a "Swan Leverless" made by Mabie Todd and Co. Ltd. It has a No 2, 14 carat gold nib. I really wanted a "Swan Calligraph" pen, but it was too expensive for an 11 year old boy on a small income (rather like now that I'm on State Pension!), and now the "Swan Calligraph" pen is a rare thing to find, even on eBay. I would still like to own one, but I daresay one in good working order would be very pricey!

I have used this pen since the day I bought and it is still in good working order. I did have to fit a new ink sac about ten years ago. Luckily the Parker pen ones are the right size.

My camera isn't a very good one and I can't take close-ups. Just in case you can't read the text in the photo I will reproduce it here:

"In 1948 when I was 11 years old I left primary school to go to the "Big Boys School" as we called it then.

To celebrate the occasion I threw away my old slate and slate pencil and bought myself a fountain pen. It cost me 17/11d, four weeks pocket money!

I still have the pen and I use it almost everyday! It is still in perfect working order. In those days things were made to last. I don't own one of those newfangled ballpoint pens and only use one under duress. We were banned from using them at school (they had only just come on the market in 1949) because we were told that they would ruin our handwriting."

They were right. With a ballpoint or a rollerball you can't get complete control of the pen, it tends to wander all over the place. A fountain pen nib has a certain amount of friction with the paper and this gives you a better chance of forming your letters correctly.

Thats right isn't it, Anji?

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

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Aren't people funny? I have noticed that on this blog; and on my other sites, that if I post about nice things like puppy dogs and pussy cats I get lots of comments. If I post about something controversial (like the previous post) where I am critical of the Government, hardly anybody wants to comment.

This is the nature of the British. Most people would prefer to keep quiet about a situation they don't like, and just put up with it rather than speak out for fear of upsetting someone. In other words we have become a nation of sheep. The British lion doesn't ROAR anymore, it just whimpers.

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Gordon Brown, our PM, (spit!) has just promised to give £13,000,000 of our money to help the Palestinian/Israeli peace talks and last month the Government promised to double its “Foreign Aid” to Africa. If I remember correctly it was £480,000,000 last year.

His Chancellor of the Exchequer, Alistair Darling (double-spit!) who is such an insignificant boring non-person in my estimation, has generously awarded those aged over 60 an extra £50 over the normal £200 annual fuel allowance, but he says, “This is only a one-off payment and the allowance goes back down to £200 the following year”!

This is great news for the 3 million ‘Old Age Pensioners’ of which the Government admit are living in Fuel Poverty (cannot afford to heat their homes). Not to worry though, 25,000 of them died of cold related illnesses last year and with a bit of luck the figure will be higher this year, thus saving the Government even more money to squander overseas.

The head of the British Gas Mafia said yesterday the price of gas would go up by 70% in November, just in time for Winter, due to “rising costs”. (Don’t forget, the price went up by 26% last November and by a further 12% in February)

One of these rising costs is his annual income of approximately £1m, consisting of his salary, expenses, allowances, bonuses and other perks. Maybe he has earned this money because he has just come up with a solution to the pensioners heating problems.

He says “Wear two pullovers when indoors”. Wow! I had never thought of that! And there was me last Winter, in my unheated house, walking around in a T-shirt and shorts and wondering why my toes and finger were a nice shade of blue.

“Ah”, I hear you say, “Why don’t you cut out all the un-necessary things like holidays, drinking beer, going out for the odd meal, get rid of the car, get rid of the phone, etc., and buy cheap junk food? Then you can afford to switch the central heating on!”  Why don’t I just dig a big hole, lie in it, and wait for the Grim Reaper?

I would like to see these public servants, whose job it is to protect and look after us, lined up against a wall and some common sense machine-gunned into them.

End of rant

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Last Friday I bought myself a puppy. His name is "Max" (name decided by Nikki, John G, and myself at the pub). He is a Lakeland Terrier, or as I call him, a Lakeland Terror! He is just six weeks old and for about one day he was inconsolable, wandering from room to room looking for familiar surroundings and his mother and brother. Glad to say that he is OK now. His hobbies include crapping on the carpet, annoying the cat, and playing tug-of-war with the legs of my jeans.

A few more pics I took last night. Published by popular request for John G, Nikki, Di, and any one else who frequents t'pub!


Playing with his squeaky plastic "Christmas hedgehog". Whatever will they think of next?



Time for a nap.



And who are you?


Now can I go back to my "Blog-oliday"?

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Two years ago in December we had a rather heavy snowfall, so much in fact that my car couldn't be moved because the road was completely blocked and remained so for two days.

Up until this point in time I had only bought fresh food as I needed it on a day to day basis. When I looked in the fridge there was only half a bottle of milk, one egg and some dubious looking ham. I checked the cupboard and found a packet of dried peas, and a tin of baked beans. The vegetable rack yielded one soggy cabbage and some spongy potatoes. The freezer revealed a lot of ice and an individual chocolate gateau.

"Je suis dans la merde!" I thought, so on with the wellies and my old army overcoat I tramped off to the local Co-op looking like an older version of "Greengrass". Did I say 'local'? Through the snow and the biting wind it seemed to take forever, like it was in the next county!

That taught me a lesson. When the snow cleared I decided on a course of action. I would have an 'Emergency Food Store'. I searched the internet for an idea, and the best one I found was a free-standing rack (see the pic on the left) whereby you put your tins in the top part of the shelf and because of the slope they roll down to the lower part and you take the front one every time you needed a tin, remembering to replace it with a new one at the top when you go shopping. This ensures that you rotate them in date order, and you always have a good supply of food. Great idea, but there is no room in my small kitchen or the shed for one.

So I bought an old secondhand cupboard with plenty of shelves in it and set it up in the shed and over the next few shopping expeditions I bought loads of tinned veg, fruit, and ready meals and stacked them in the cupboard. I also bought packeted and dried food such as flour, yeast, rice, pasta, sugar etc., which I keep in the kitchen cabinet. I decided not to buy a lot of frozen food because if we had power cuts due to the weather, or any other disaster, and the juice was off for a long time the food would be ruined.

Upon reflection I should have done this a long time ago, because it is silly to live from day to day and rely on the fact that there is always food available when you want it. In this day and age with oil shortages and strikes we can't rely on the supermarket shelves always being full of what we need.

If the lorry drivers came out on a semi-permanent basis the food wouldn't get to the shops, the petrol stations would run out, and everybody would panic buy. Look what happened recently in Southern France and Spain, exactly what I just said.

So having a Store Cupboard insulates you to a certain degree against the effects of bad weather, national disasters, food riots, and illness when it's impossible to get to the shops if you live alone and have no-one to help you out as in my case.

Having a store of reserve food also helps if you have unexpected guests (which would never happen to me anyway!). Another effect is that you can buy the food at todays prices because as we all know the price of food goes up on a daily basis.

It's like having my own personal little shop, [KEITHS' KORNER SHOP. Open all hours.] but without the daily price increases!

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Every Monday night we have a live music night at my local pub. Actually it was started off last July by yours truly as an 'accoustic only' Folk Club just after the smoking ban in the pubs. A lot of the local musicians didn't want to sing and play in a smoky atmosphere, so we waited until the ban took effect and then we took over the Lounge on Mondays from 8:30 till late.

As I said, it was originally intended to be a Folk Club, but as the weeks wore on and more people came we gradually changed over to include all type of music, including pop and modern. All in all I think it is a success, because we seem to have a lot of talented musicians in this area, and every week there is something different to listen to.

The grumpy old git on the snare drum providing a bit of rhythm when needed.

The attendance is a bit sporadic. Some weeks the room is so crowded that you can't move without tripping over someones feet (or guitar, Which doesn't go down very well!) and other weeks we perhaps only have 6 or 7 people there, but it is always a very lively event.

There were only a few the night I took these pictures. I think with it being the week that we had Summer and some hot weather (Remember it?) almost everybody had something better to do that night, or was there something good on the telly?

Two of the 'lads' who do a turn separately and also provide some accompaniment for the other musicians

We have to have a 'Chairperson' or an MC to try to keep order and to make sure that everyone gets a spot. No, I'm not the chairperson or whatever, I leave that to someone better qualified than, someone who has run folk clubs in the past.

This is Di who only took up the guitar about 18 months ago. She is now confident enough to sing and play in public, and very good she is too!

The evening is run on the "sing-around" principle. In other words we go round the room anti-clockwise and each person gets one song or instrumental, until everybody has had a turn, then we go round again. Sometimes the singer sings solo, or requests that everybody else plays along with them.

I haven't got a camcorder, or whatever they are called now, so I can't video the sessions and put it up here on on uTube.com.If you live within a reasonable distance of the pub why not come along one Monday night? You would be most welcome.

Entrance is free, and refreshments (sandwiches) are provided.

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This is a classic Provençal salad that is full of flavour and is also a source of valuable nutrients: the tuna and anchovies provide protein, the olives and olive oil supply monounsaturated fat (good for the old ticker!), the eggs provide protein and vitamins, the potatoes provide energy-giving carbohydrates, as well as plenty of potassium and fibre, and the salad vegetables add more fibre. This is food that's very good for you! It is a tasty salad from France that I use quite often; when we have a Summer that is! It can be used as a first course, or it makes a nice lunch on it's own, and it's easy to prepare. I always make it when the second course are galettes (see previous post).

Main Ingredients: **
2 small potatoes, boiled and cut into bite-size cubes.
A few broad or french beans.
3 - 4 tomatoes, cut into wedges.
4 cups butter lettuce leaves—washed and dried.
4-5 spring onions.
1 stick of celery, chopped.
A bit of cucumber, chopped.
1 small red onion, chopped.
Hard boiled eggs, 1 per person, quartered.
Tin of Tuna Chunks.
4-5 anchovies. (Never use them myself, groo!)
About 20 black olives (Niçoise are ideal).
A few walnut halves.
A shoot of Basil for decoration.
Salt and pepper to taste.

Dressing: +
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil.
2 tablespoons red or white wine vinegar.
1 clove garlic (crushed).
½ teaspoon Dijon mustard.
½ teaspoon salt.
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper.


** These are the ingredients I use (except the anchovies!) but you can vary them and add what you prefer, possibly roquette instead of lettuce? Beetroot? In fact anything goes in this type of salad.

+ If you can't be bothered to make the dressing Hellemans make a rather nice "Low-Fat French Dressing" which is virtually the same as my homemade version.

Method:
They say a picture is worth a thousand words, so if you study the photo above you will see how I present the salad. The smaller bowl contains a salad for one of my guests who doesn't like the dressing I put over the main salad.

I always think that presentation is very important. On a large platter I lay a bed of lettuce leaves, torn up; not cut! In the middle I lay the mixture of finely chopped celery, onion, and cucumber. On top of this I carefully place the tuna chunks (still 'tin-shaped'). This I cover with the walnut halves and place the black olives around the mound.

The eggs, tomatoes, and spring onions are then placed around the edge of the platter. Next the sprig of basil is placed in the centre and the whole salad is sprinkled with fresh chives, chopped up fine. Finally the dressing is poured over the whole thing, covered with cling film and left to marinate for at least 2 hours.

Everything is ready:
In the photo on the left my table is laid out ready for my guests. The basket is ready for the garlic bread, still being prepared in the kitchen. The radishes are for a starter, with butter and salt; there are more on a side table (not shown) together with the vin rouge, Pastis and nibbles for the apéritif. There is also a bottle of "Eau de Vie" for the digestif after the meal.

The main course of the evening is as described in the last post. The desert? I almost forgot. That's a secret. . .

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The Old Grumpys' way of making "Galettes super-complète" (makes 4)

For the galettes:
175 g buckwheat flour
1 egg
400 ml cold water (preferrably sparkling)
20 g melted butter
1 generous pinch of salt
salted butter (Brittany Sea-salted butter) for frying

For the filling:
4 tbsp chopped onions
4 tbsp chopped mushrooms
8 tbsp grated Emmental cheese
8 tbsp chopped tomatoes
8 slices thinly sliced smoked ham
4 eggs
some oil
crushed pepper


Prepare the dough at least 2 hrs ahead. Combine the buckwheat flour, butter, egg, water and salt in a mixing bowl and whisk with a fork until combined thoroughly to form a smooth and very runny dough. Cover and leave to rest in the fridge for at least 2 hrs.

Take out of the fridge and beat the dough with a fork for at least 10 minutes. The longer you beat it, the more it will be aerated and thinner your dough will turn out to be.

Fry the galettes in batches using a 30 cm skillet (crêpes pan, if you have one) - heat a little bit of butter, then add a ladle of dough, making them as thin as you possibly can. If you're incredibly talented, the dough will probably yield 6-8 galettes, a "normal" first-timer will probably succeed 4... don't dispair and always remember the French saying: "La première, c'est pour le chien!" ("The first one's for the dog") Fry on both sides until golden brown and reserve.

Heat a little bit of butter in a pan, add the chopped onions and fry until starting to brown. Add the mushrooms and fry until soft. Reserve.

When you're ready to serve, heat the pan and add a galette. Sprinkle with 2 tbsp cheese, spread a quarter of the mushroom/onion mix on top, add 1 tbsp tomatoes, cover with 2 slices of ham and fold the galette on three sides to form something resembling an envelope.

Meanwhile, in another pan, heat some oil and fry the 4 eggs until the whites have set. Top each galette with a fried egg, sprinkle with pepper and serve with a "Salade Nicoise", or just a normal salad on the side.

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It happened again last night! That's the second time this year. Verbal abuse, that's what!

I was walking home from the local pub last night about 11:30pm when I met a group of teenagers coming towards me who had obviously had too much to drink. Usually in these circumstances I cross the road and try not to make eye contact, but last night I thought "Why should I put myself out?". Big mistake. As I walked past, totally ignoring them, one of the girls (there were four boys and two girls aged about 16 or 17 I'd say) shouted "What the fuck you looking at you fucking old perv?", then she literally fell over laughing.

That was the cue for all the others to start shouting abuse as I walked away, "You should be in your fucking box, pushing up daisies!" (How original!), "Come back and fight you old git", etc. I think you get the picture. I just got a firmer grip on the stick I was carrying and carried on walking, I knew what would happen if I confronted them.

Please don't ask why I never reported the incident to the fuzz. There are no police in our little town, the nearest cop-shop is 10 miles away, and I know from experience that they are not interested anyway.

The ‘yoof’ of today makes me smile, angry, and sad, all at the same time, but they also frighten me; not for my own safety, but this country will be in their hands one day, and if they don't change their attitude then God help Britain.

They have no conception of courage, because they would rather fight the vulnerable.
They have no conception of respect, yet demand it unconditionally from their elders.
They have no conception of love, yet they breed indiscriminately.
They have no conception of sacrifice, because they fight a war against nobody, but themselves…

To every stupid little ungrateful parasite, already hateful of the country you were conceived in, and cannot be arsed to speak the proper English language, because yah fink yah cool, an’ fit in talkin’ like dat, innit, then go elsewhere. Preferably Iraq. You will not be missed. You are surplus to requirements, innit.

To every young person in Britain, with an intention of becoming a decent citizen, the time for you will come, and the rewards also, so be patient…

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This morning I was sorting out my bookcase and putting aside all the books I no longer need to take to the local Age Concern Charity Shop when I came across the book on the right.

This book shows you how to feed a family of 4 with 3 meals a day and the total cost is only £5! It was a return to good basic food, made from cheap but nourishing ingredients. I bought it many years ago because it had a lot of common sense recipes in it.

It was designed to help those caught in the poverty trap and living on a low income, such as the genuinely poor.

The book was published in 1991 and I suppose it was right in saying that your family could live on £5 a day, but how times have changed since those days! I doubt if you could feed one person a day for £5.

I picked out a recipe at random just to compare with today’s prices. It states that the “Yorkshire Omelette” for four people costs only 90p, so I went to Morrisons to price up the ingredients at today’s prices and it worked out at:

	4 large potatoes		£1.09
	115g bacon		£2.19
	5 eggs		£1.13
	Oil and mixed herbs		£0.35
			_____
	Total		£4.76
			====

That’s a big jump from 90p total in 1991. So working on that figure for one meal that means that the cost of 3 meals a day for a family of two adults and two children would now be nearly £15 a day (aproximately). It makes you think doesn't it?

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Reading Sandys' post about poor little Nino reminded me of how much I would like a dog.

I live alone and some days I never see or speak to a soul from dawn until dusk and I would love some company in the house. Someone or something to talk to and share my life with. A dog seemed like the answer, he would get me out of the house to go for walkies etc., but it is not to be, thanks to the "politically correct do-gooders" at the various dog-rescue centres.

The are three dog rescue centres nearby. I approached the main one, who is overcrowded with stray dogs looking for a home. I saw a nice quiet dog, a labrador that had been found wandering on the motorway (obviously dumped from a car), and we hit it off straight away. I visited the centre several times and the dog (named Sandy) was always over the moon to see me. She would jump up at the wire wagging her tail and barking and I thought that she would make a good friend for me.

I asked at the office if I could adopt her and they replied that I would have to be assessed first. Several days later a woman, accompanied by an official looking man with a clipboard arrived at my house.

He told me that he had checked with the police and I was "clean". Perhaps they thought I was a convicted dog-beater?

They then asked a lot of questions like "What was my income?" (could I afford to feed the dog properly), "Was I on any means-tested benefits?" (could I afford any vet bills? If not the dog would be covered for free vet treatment at the PDSA if I was on a benefit). Then they looked at the garden (was it secure?) and lastly looked over the entire house. "Where would the dog sleep?" he asked. "Wherever he wanted!" I replied. "She wouldn't be kept in a kennel in the yard then?" "Perhaps sometimes if she wanted to", I said.

A week later a received a phone call.

"Mr. Smith? Sorry but we feel that you are not best placed to have the dog. Your Old Age Pension doesn't really seem enough to support both you and a dog and to pay any high vet bills because you are not on any state benefits. Your house isn't big enough for a large dog to 'rattle around' in, and the garden needs at least a 2 metre high fence around it to stop the dog from straying."

My house is the normal size semi with three bedrooms and two rooms downstairs. In the 40's this was classed as a 'family home' for a couple with two children, and now suddenly it's not big enough for one grumpy old man and a dog!

I despair of this officious country. The self-appointed cretins who tell us what we can or can't do. I wouldn't have asked for a dog if I didn't feel that I could afford it, even if it meant making little sacrifices and giving up my last few luxuries. They did ask how much savings I had, but I thought that was a 'bridge too far' and declined to answer. I wonder what happens when the rescue centre is too full to take any more dogs? What happens to them? Bang, bang?

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15th April 2008

Vaisakhi. One of the most important dates in the Sikh calendar.

About 5,000 Sikhs from all over the country descended on Bradford to commemorate the auspicious date. One of the marchers Satnam Singh said: “Everyone has been smiling, it’s a time of great joy for us.”


23rd April 2008

St Georges Day. One of the most important dates in the English calendar.

The event in Bradford, involving thousands of schoolchildren, was due to take place on Wednesday. But police and council chiefs told organisers a few days ago that the parade could not go ahead as planned for “health and safety reasons”.

The police said that they were unable to protect the children because of the cost of the operation. Just who would the police have to protect the Cubs, Scouts, and Guides from? After all they are only celebrating a traditional English festival.

I notice that Wigans annual St Georges day parade was axed this year as well for the same stupid reason. Well, at least thats what they tell us!

I know that there are a few other reasons why people are turning to the BNP, but this particular news-item made me angry because I spent many years as a Scout Leader and the annual St Georges day parade was one of the highlights of our year.

Apparently these sort of events are frowned upon nowadays by the politically correct brigade just in case in case they can be construed as "incitement", and could possibly offend our new residents from the Asiatic and east European lands.(akin to the Orange parades in Northern Ireland that were designed to antagonise the Catholics, Note the flag-waving by the leaders in the picture). We don't want that, do we?

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The new Farm Shop at Shenton near Hinckley, where you can buy Local Leicestershire food from farms near you. Click the picture for further details.

In the early 70's a local farmer decided to open a farm shop to sell his produce directly to the public. This particular farm produced vegetables and soft fruit of every description,. He had an orchard (in fact it was called Orchard Farm, in Orchard Lane) comprising of plums, pears and the most delicious apples ever. I know, I used to go "scrumping" there when I was a lad. You could buy logs and kindling for your open fire, and he would deliver with a tractor and trailer directly to your house if you hadn't got transport. He also reared hens, ducks and geese.

He cleared out part of the old barn and set up shop. It was an immediate hit with the locals, and even people from far away. It was great, the vegetables still had muck and creepy-crawly things on it, the eggs (oh those eggs, so tasty!) still had hen shit on them. If you wanted something that wasn't on the rickety shelves he would go out to the fields and dig it up for you; how's that for freshness and service?

This little shop was open like that for several years, never expanding, never "modernised". That is until old Jack died and his wife went into a care home. Jacks son took over the farm and the first thing he did was to demolish the old barn and build a modern shop with tiled floor, melamine shelving, and introduced a modern till that you needed a Phd to operate. The veg was washed and cleaned, as was the other produce. Needless to say the prices rocketed! He explained that it was to pay the staff; he employed two girls now, and to pay for the modernisation of the shop.

Then he started selling produce from other farms, near and far. Suddenly a new Range Rover car appeared! The tractor and trailer had long since gone, so no way was he going to deliver logs and other goods in that!

Before long the orchard was sold off to a local developer who has built about 20 "desirable country residences" on it. The shop still sold fruit, but now it had little labels on stating "Produce of South Africa". The veg came in on a lorry ready packaged and supposedly fresh.

The farm now is being subsidised by the Government NOT to produce anything, the fields are now lying fallow and the house and outbuildings are looking dilapidated, but no doubt some rich person will buy them and turn them into a mini-mansion.

The ducks, chickens and geese have long gone, and the eggs are now sold in little boxes marked "Produce of Poland". They don't taste the same as the old shit covered ones I used to collect from there in my little enamel bowl. In fact the eggs now taste like shit!

Nowadays you can buy any of the normal supermarket products there, jam, butter, wine and spirits, beer, postage stamps, and all the other trash you can get at Asco's! In fact it is run on supermarket lines, with checkouts and a cigarette kiosk now. What is the point? You may as well go to the local Hypermarket to get your groceries, and clothing, and electrical goods, and petrol, etc.

All is not lost though!

We have a new farm shop not far away now, it's not quite like old Jacks farm shop because of the Health and Safety and Food Regulations, but promising nevertheless. It is called "Shenton Farm Shop" would you believe and you can visit it here. I haven't been there yet myself, but several people have said how good it is. Let us hope that it doesn't turn into another SuperFarm Shop

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