We are still weeks away from Christmas day yet clients are already asking for cakes and especially mince pies and Emily and Crew have already sold several boxes.
I just love the thought that this could really have happened.
After two weeks deliberation and much haranguing from Emperor Constant-Teen the Bishops Council had almost finalized the Nicene Creed.
All they needed was one shred of evidence to support Constant-Teen’s express desire that the Prophet was indeed divine. Just one tiny shred….
Eusebius sighed. “Sigh. So who’s this then?” he asked.
The clerk looked down at his list. “Septic Tanckus, You Most Worshipfulness”.
“And what is your story … Mr. Tanckus?”
“’He was there!”
”Guardin’ that stone. Y’know?”
“Who was?” Eusebius mumbled, leaning forward to cradle his head in his hands.
“Me great, great,’ he paused then counted on his fingers, ‘’great, great grandad,” beamed the grubby-looking man.
Eusebius groaned then turned to confer with the Bishop sat next to him. “I am not sure if the Emperor’s suggestion of offering a reward for any eyewitness accounts to the resurrection was such a good idea after all. I mean this is the…” he paused to consult a list of his own, “Fortieth eyewitness. Considering the event was supposed to have been nearly four hundred years ago I can hardly see any of these people being eyewitness to anything remotely divine. In fact I would go as far as to say it would be a miracle if most had ever seen a bar of soap.”
The clerk approached the long table at which all the Bishops sat. “Pardon, Your Graces, I think the Emperor said evidence of an eyewitness account. And this chap’s great, great, great, great, grandfather was a Roman Guard. I have checked the records and we do have such a name.”
This caused a minor stir and one or two mumbles of interest.
“Will someone please wake up Cardinal Hartly Sinin-Atall,” said Eusebius wearily.
Someone nudged an ancient figure snoring peacefully towards one end of the table.
The old man came to and exclaimed to the world in general. “Never laid a hand on her. Besides she said she was over fourteen. How was I to know?”
“Cardinal Sinin- Atall?” Eusebius interjected. “Are you with us?”
“Huh?” The old man asked.
“Oh, for goodness sake. Someone take him away!”
The old man was escorted from the room by a young priest.
“Now, Mister Tanckus. Your great, great, great grandad you say?”
“Er … one more great, Your Grace,” prompted the clerk.
“Quite,” Eusebius added sharply. “There seems no end to this man’s relation’s greatness. I presume the account you will tell us has been passed down through your family by word of mouth?”
“No, sir. Me mam told us. And her mam before her, right back to me great, great, great…er… great granny.”
“I am a little confused. Was it your great … etcetera grandad or your great etcetera granny?”
“Well, he was on duty by the stone and she come to keep him company. You know how it is, Your Worthlessship, right? Bit cold standing there on his tod.”
“So what exactly happened?”
“They was busy and…”
“Busy?” Eusebius interrupted.
“Yeah, you know. Wink, wink. Busy.”
Eusebius shook his head. Yes he did know. And unlike most of those at the table who thought a vow of celibacy meant only eating fish, he kept his vow. On Mondays. “And then what happened?”
“Well the stone began to sorta move t’one side a bit. On little castors it was. Anyhow, once the tomb was open proper-like, out steps this fellah in a long white nightshirt right as nine pence. My old great etc. granny apparently squeals a bit and tries to push me great etc. grandad off her. My mam reckoned she’d seen a bloody ghost, ‘scuse my Macedonian, Your Worthshipless.”
“And did this ‘’ghost ‘’ say anything to your great etcetera grandparents?”
“Well, apparently, he gives them a wink, held up his finger like this, see, says, “Ssssh, and walks off!
“So, do I get my reward now?”
It’s odd, I haven’t celebrated a Northern Christmas in more years than I can remember, yet the Tree, decorations and all the other paraphernalia are still very much a part of Xmas in our home.
Including Christmas Cake.
Here are a few examples of what Emily has produced for clients
The figurines are hand-made. Aren’t they so cool?
You’ll find more yummy stuff here…..Emily’s Cakes
Considering the current weather down here in Joe Hanners Berg, this is appropriate.
One of the lesser known facts concerning the bible is that the ancient texts contained no vowels and no punctuation. Great care had to be taken during redaction as errors could easily have been made.
Such as the phrase, God is now here, which could be read as God is nowhere.
It seems that biblical scholars, against all common sense and evidence to the contrary went with the former explanation; and God knows why!
Latest news from somewhere in the desert near Mount Sinaisitus suggests archaeologists have recently dug up another ancient book (well, it’s a compendium of scrolls actually) that only have vowels.
The entire text, known as Bye Bill, was found in a set of ancient jam jars at the bottom of an Akkadian long-drop, and is the first definitive proof of an alternative god to Yahweh, (which incidentally was spelled YHWH before biblical scholars dropped in the vowels.) who is also cited as being the Creator, appeared on a mountain in a cloud of smoke ( a very large pipe is alluded to) and later comes down to earth, knocks up a milk maid and is eventually put to death by a group of dairy farmers led by someone named Sam Hedrin.
The name of the new (much improved) God is OO-OO.
And this is where the religious community may have real trouble as *plorers from the David Attenborough Society of “How can you tell it’s a deadly poisonous tree fro…?” have confirmed that in the dense jungles of Wethafkarwee, a previously unknown cannibalistic tribe also worship this god. Only in their case it is a three-toed tree sloth.
However, religious leaders across the globe may soon be able to breathe a huge sigh of relief.
Byebillical scholars have decided to add consonants, in the same manner as ancient scholars added vowels to the Bible (Old Testament) and henceforth the New Improved God will be known as Yoo Hoo!
Already there is dispute regarding the text and various interpretations have been offered.
In the ‘going up the mountain scene’ in the Bye Bill, a furious row has broken out as to whether the text reads Ten Commandments or Ten Commandos.
This writer thinks this has an all too familiar ring to it, don’t you?
*Plorer: an adventurer who returns home, as opposed to an ex-plorer who doesn’t. Obviously!
There are a great many artists I love but I don’t necessarily like all of their music.
Jimi Hendrix is an exception. I can honestly say wth my hand on my heart there isn’t a piece of music of his I can think of that I don’t enjoy. And the true beauty of his music, for me, is I always seem to hear something extra when I listen to it. I cannot explain it, but I am convinced this is the true mark of an extraordinary musician. Mozart had it. Beethoven too. Astor Piazolla is another. Their compositions somehow transcend the ordinary in a fashion that cannot be repeated.
“A musician, if he’s a messenger, is like a child who hasn’t been handled too many times by man, hasn’t had too many fingerprints across his brain. That’s why music is so much heavier than anything you ever felt”
Jimi Hendrix 1969
While Crispy’uns and Most Slims seem diametrically opposed in their views there are some striking similarities.
However, it is not certain aspects of their doctrines; their the-illogical literature, that are the more noticeable of these two sworn enemas.
For the answer, one has to turn to the medical journals.
A recent paper, published in Sheep and Goat Herders Weekly by leading orthopedic surgeon Isaac Limpdixski, suggests an anatomical shortcoming in their nether regions.
Within the tenets of each religion are allusions to “Walking in the footsteps of the Wholly Profit”.
Dr. Limpdixski was called in to make a prognosis after E & T specialist, Dr. James “Y’what?” Blewitt discovered adherents of these two faiths, and especially re-baked Crispy’uns, had only a mere 1% hearing in one ear.
This hearing defect caused Crispy’uns and Most Slims to incline their heads to one side in an effort to hear better. Although, he was quick to add that they hardly ever listen. “Must be why they call it Mono-theism,” Dr. Blewitt ventured.
Over the years, this tendency to lean, forces a shortening of the bones in one or the other leg.
Eventually, devout Crispy’uns and Most Slims end up going around in circles.
Dr. Limpdixski believes there is little hope of a natural reversal once the condition has set in.
“At first, we thought they were just play-acting, and in the grand tradition of the theatre, suggested they ‘Go break a leg’. However, this did not have the desired effect and caused more psychological trauma. In fact some would make themselves bump into the nearest wall where they would immediately begin wailing for at least half an hour. So sad… really.”
Dr. Limpdixski has offered a non-surgical procedure as a less painful, albeit long-term alternative.
“If you come across one of these poor misguided souls, take pity on them rather than ridicule this unfortunate behaviour. I recommend telling them jokes as often as possible. Several have succumbed to a healthy dose of leg-pulling and it is marvelous to witness how, once again, a lucky few begin walking a straight and narrow path.”
I was sitting here thinking what song i could close off with tonight when the heavens opened.
Ah, thought I…problem solved!
Here’s Led Zeppelin. Classic ballad.
That’s Nile Rodgers, actually. And I have no idea what his secret is but he is very good at what he does.
One the most prolific and successful record producers in the game
and also the co-founder and lead guitarist of the band, Chic.
And over 30 years down the line he is still going and that unique Rodgers ”Fender Strat” sounding marvelous. He played at Glastonbury this year. Looked like a superb gig.
Hands up those who once owned a white suit!
Since the advent of Facetube I have been able to dig up stuff that I watched as a kid which I had thought I would never see again.
This program, The Old Gray Whistle test, was THE underground music show on the BBC in the seventies.
This particular show, featuring the legendary blues guitarist, Johnny Winter holds special memories for moi.
This show was on when I arrived home from the pub one evening. Johnny Winter was in England but I couldn’t get tickets so I was really keen to at least watch him on the telly and record the gig on my little portable cassette recorder. But I had forgotten to set it. Yes, this was before VHS.
So I frantically ran to my bedroom, grabbed the cassette recorder ran downstairs and jammed it up against the speaker of the TV set then out of breath, sat back with my cup of tea and some toast.
Well I had to have the telly up quite loud, didn’t I but on the second track, the one featured here, Mississippi Blues, after a long intro the bass comes in and the TV vibrates, and then my mother began banging her shoe on the floor of her bedroom which was right above the lounge. I had to turn the TV down. But it wasn’t enough and she banged the floor again!
Later, when I replayed the tape the shoe-banging in the background was crystal clear – a nice counterpoint to the bass and the drums.
And this is why I laughed out loud when I found this video, and the missus asked what was funny.
It was even funnier when I fetched the audio cassette from a box of tapes I still have, transported halfway across the world in 1979 and played it for her!
The final round of World Cup Qualifiers were wound up this week.
Listen to the commentator Nuno Matos. Whether you like football or not, whether you understand Portuguese or not, this bloke is amazing. Er…the commentator. Ronaldo isn’t bad either!
Apparently it is Mickey Mouse’s birthday. Hows about that then? 85 today
Here’s a cake that Emily made to celebrate!
Ain’t no lights around this harbor
The sea has turned and gone to bed
Far off cries the lonely siren
Or is that a voice within my head
Right or wrong I knew what she was saying
Cried out her heart such a lovely face
Behind her eyes the sun is dying
Maybe the moon can take it’s place
Out there ships upon the winds are dancing
Tired old hands the sails unfold
Around their eyes the wind is sighing
Maybe the end a tale untold
Far off cries the lonely siren
Maybe the end a tale untold
No copyright infringement intended
The very first time I saw/heard of Trower was a TV show while I was on holiday in France. I was blown away and a few years later I was blessed to see him play in Manchester.
I still have the ticket, somewhere too.
The vocalist on this track, James Dewar has sadly passed away since.