Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Rats
Modest amount of rat sign again and a fair bit of bait has gone. Perhaps word is spreading in the ratty world of tasty blue snacks to be had in the compost heap at number xxx. So the bait stays down for a bit yet.
Talk of rats reminds me of the decline of civic virtues on our estate. It is no longer the case that everybody takes responsibility for the bit of pavement and road in front of their own house. So odd bits of litter and broken glass might stay there for days. The BH and I are starting to show our age by conspicuously picking up of litter in front of other peoples' houses and ceremoniously dropping it in our own dustbin. For example, a middle size branch arrived on a verge about a week ago and had been sitting there ever since, to the peril of weak sighted passers by. This has now been retreived, chopped up and lost down our garden. The work of five minutes. But why could the householder involved not bother? The same householder had the cheek to park a large unused car, wrapped up in a plastic bag, opposite their own house on a bit of road where flat owners struggle to find a spot, when his or her own house had a very large off street parking bay. At least did have the cheek. After about a month of this someone must have had a pop at them and it is now on the parking bay where it belongs.
On a road a bit further on the way to the station there are some large box plants in the verge, maybe 1 metre square by 2 metres high. These plants are getting infested with brambles. Again, one might have thought that the householders in question might have taken a few minutes to excise the brambles before they take over. But no. I suppose, sitting in their fine houses which are probably worth £750,000 a pop (so one might think that they ought to know better), they think that it is up to the council to tidy plants. Maybe they spend more time on the phone harrassing the council to do something about them than it would take to do it themselves. Matter of principle you know.
And then there was the young tree in the bank, in front of a short row of houses, just before the railway bridge. Planted at some considerable expense and expired one hot summer because no-one could be bothered to chuck a bucket of water at it from time to time.
But we do find time to take male strippers to court. I see from the DT that one busy CPS office has seen fit to take a make stripper to court because his fancy dress included a policeman's uniform with no less than two truncheons, these last constituting an offensive weapon. The case being thrown out, said CPS office is now putting an appeal together. They would all be much better employed taking the brambles out of plants on my estate. Alternatively, we only have half the story from the DT and would take a differant line had we the other half.
This weekend, reminded why roast beef is the business, having gone in for boiled for a bit. A very special bit of roast fore rib. 5.5 pounds, cooked for two hours at 180C, served with white rice and crinkly green cabbage. Brown on the outside and red on the inside. No gravy. A very simple (if not very cheap meal) but just the job. Followed by apple crumble with cinnamon but without sultanas. Cold yesterday with more crinkly green cabbage and mashed potatoes. These last being basic whites from Mr S and they are not terribly good. Tend to be a bit lumpy even when thoroughly cooked and thoroughly mashed. Maybe we have to up our game to taste the differance or duchy originals. Must also protect what is left of them in the garage from frost.
Which reminds me that I was interested to find out the other day, that the heir to the throne is not a grocer after all. Perhaps his grandmother's ghost had been giving him a hard time about being in trade. It seems that he has built a brand name which he simply sells on. So if I think I have the business in organic sausages for vegetarians, but need a bit of image to go with them, I apply to the heir to use the Duchy Original brand name. After various sweeteners, some of the folding sort, said permission is forthcoming. The heir is a bit richer (but without actually being in trade) and my sausages are on the move. Everybody is a winner.
Talk of rats reminds me of the decline of civic virtues on our estate. It is no longer the case that everybody takes responsibility for the bit of pavement and road in front of their own house. So odd bits of litter and broken glass might stay there for days. The BH and I are starting to show our age by conspicuously picking up of litter in front of other peoples' houses and ceremoniously dropping it in our own dustbin. For example, a middle size branch arrived on a verge about a week ago and had been sitting there ever since, to the peril of weak sighted passers by. This has now been retreived, chopped up and lost down our garden. The work of five minutes. But why could the householder involved not bother? The same householder had the cheek to park a large unused car, wrapped up in a plastic bag, opposite their own house on a bit of road where flat owners struggle to find a spot, when his or her own house had a very large off street parking bay. At least did have the cheek. After about a month of this someone must have had a pop at them and it is now on the parking bay where it belongs.
On a road a bit further on the way to the station there are some large box plants in the verge, maybe 1 metre square by 2 metres high. These plants are getting infested with brambles. Again, one might have thought that the householders in question might have taken a few minutes to excise the brambles before they take over. But no. I suppose, sitting in their fine houses which are probably worth £750,000 a pop (so one might think that they ought to know better), they think that it is up to the council to tidy plants. Maybe they spend more time on the phone harrassing the council to do something about them than it would take to do it themselves. Matter of principle you know.
And then there was the young tree in the bank, in front of a short row of houses, just before the railway bridge. Planted at some considerable expense and expired one hot summer because no-one could be bothered to chuck a bucket of water at it from time to time.
But we do find time to take male strippers to court. I see from the DT that one busy CPS office has seen fit to take a make stripper to court because his fancy dress included a policeman's uniform with no less than two truncheons, these last constituting an offensive weapon. The case being thrown out, said CPS office is now putting an appeal together. They would all be much better employed taking the brambles out of plants on my estate. Alternatively, we only have half the story from the DT and would take a differant line had we the other half.
This weekend, reminded why roast beef is the business, having gone in for boiled for a bit. A very special bit of roast fore rib. 5.5 pounds, cooked for two hours at 180C, served with white rice and crinkly green cabbage. Brown on the outside and red on the inside. No gravy. A very simple (if not very cheap meal) but just the job. Followed by apple crumble with cinnamon but without sultanas. Cold yesterday with more crinkly green cabbage and mashed potatoes. These last being basic whites from Mr S and they are not terribly good. Tend to be a bit lumpy even when thoroughly cooked and thoroughly mashed. Maybe we have to up our game to taste the differance or duchy originals. Must also protect what is left of them in the garage from frost.
Which reminds me that I was interested to find out the other day, that the heir to the throne is not a grocer after all. Perhaps his grandmother's ghost had been giving him a hard time about being in trade. It seems that he has built a brand name which he simply sells on. So if I think I have the business in organic sausages for vegetarians, but need a bit of image to go with them, I apply to the heir to use the Duchy Original brand name. After various sweeteners, some of the folding sort, said permission is forthcoming. The heir is a bit richer (but without actually being in trade) and my sausages are on the move. Everybody is a winner.
# posted by Jim @ 12:12 AM 
