pumpkinstrokemarrow

Having been asked about Boxing Day, BH detirmined that it was the day when the money put in boxes hanging off trees in the churchyard on Christmas Day was distributed to the poor. A second story, courtesy of OED, was that it was the day that tradesmen such as postmen and other delivery men (from, for example, the fishmonger), came round for their Christmas boxes. One can, of course combine the two, by saying that the first was the precursor of the second. But I find both stories curiously unsatisfying. They both seem a bit contrived. But that is not to say that I can think of anything better. I suppose I would have preferred if it was the day that Saint Boxing was thrown to the lions by the dastardly Herod, this last having missed out on his attempt to catch up with the infant Jesus.

Interesting dream the other day when I had mysteriously acquired a very afro hair style - florid dark blonde curls all over the place plus a modest beard of same. I was quite horrified when I noticed myself in the mirror, so much so that I suppose I woke up. Not sure what would have brought this on, other than a three day old exhortation to wash my hair.

Interesting observation in this week's TLS, about the way that people who, more or less accidently, make a lot of money, generally come around to the idea that they are qualified to opine on the box or in print on every arcane subject under the sun. Soros being a well known example. (I suspect that it is not just people who make a lot of money. We are treated to the views of people famous in one field on the affairs of another all the time). The TLS then spends an entire page, less a poem, on the musings of a recent example of the type, one Nassim N Taleb. The point would have been more impressive had it been confined to a couple of column inches in the in brief section at the back. But maybe the TLS writers are entitled to a bit of holiday too - they can presumably knock this sort of stuff out more or less in their sleep or when more or less incapacited by festive season cheer.

Outing to Leatherhead to walk through the common along the Mole. Mole looking fairly full with interesting damp smells - reminding me of Cambridgeshire rivers from my childhood. The smell varied quite a bit as one walked along. Plenty of pigeons and seagulls, some magpies and other crows, one ring necked parakeet, one jay and one deer. Plus an interesting brown bird, between a thrush and a partridge in both colour and general appearance, lurking in the rushes by the bank. Not particularly timid, taking its time to hoof it to the other bank and invisibility. Not a clue what it was. Two swans, just about managing to make headway against the current with a paddle rate of maybe 6 a minute. Each stroke appeared to be timed to the coming to a halt after the stroke before. Perhaps that way you get maximum distance for your effort.

Reminded that Sprog2 had been rather shocked to see a swan swallowing his returned fish on a fishing expedition earlier in the year. He - and I - thought that swans were veggies. Not sure why though. I now remember that the BH told me years ago of an expedition to the pond with her class and a number of carefully reared baby frogs which were promptly swallowed by the ducks. Much to the shock and dismay of most of the class. Presumably some of the little horrors thought it was great. Presumably the boys. More on the newly minted Sprog1.1 in due course.

At least three trolleys from the Swan Centre Mr S in the river, presumably a hundred pounds worth or more of trolley, even at the price he pays for them. They are substantial objects. Two of them would be fairly easily recovered without getting wet if one had a couple of lengths of rope. Will we return to the recovery and march the things dripping and triumphant back to the Swan Centre? It would be good for a laugh but I am not sure if the company gathered is quite up for it. We could even make a hobby out of it and get our picture in the local free paper being presented with a modest cheque for some worthy (preferably riverine) charity by the local representative of Mr S.

First round of turkey soup today. Left over gravy boiled up with some of the bones and some onion. Strain. Add pearl barley. Simmer for an hour. Add sliced cabbage. Add diced leg of turkey. Add sliced (elderly in this case) mushrooms. Simmer for a few minutes and serve. Amongst other virtues a good accompaniment to what is now rather stale bread. Hopefully the baker will be open tomorrow and normal service can be resumed.

A deer, for the second year running, has found the perpetual spinach. So I doubt whether it will be perpetual for much longer.