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Blog.

When ya gotta go

Ya gotta go

An I gotta go

Now

Seethe

                                                                            Colin               

Where have you bean?

Photograph Quiz:

Photo no 163:- Who is this Godiva athlete Blog? I haven't a clue. All I know is that he live in Dordon, Warwickshire. My problem is that his style of kit seem to pre date the Godiva club vest by quite a few years.... HELP.

Dear Blog,

        I can now trudge around the country lanes and get hay fever directly from the grass verges without trying …  the Council have decided to denude all the verges at the side of the roads and country lanes after leaving them to grow all summer. Cutting them now seems a shame – the lanes look bare so aesthetically a bit of a disappointment – also with the roads sides obscured and vision on corners greatly reduced, the usual fast traffic did show signs of greater care on the narrow lanes, but now we are back up to speed. Once again, trudging becomes a dice with death on some sections of the country lanes …..

     I had the pleasure of watching a kiddies programme on Friday afternoon. It was rather an exciting programme about gardening and plants; it was rather well done. BUT. My enjoyment was spoiled somewhat when they introduced Colin, the bean. Colin, the runner bean. At first I had to smile at how appropriate it was – Colin the runner. How did the producer know I was going to tune in to watch with my grandkids??? I suppose my wife must have forewarned him. Anyway, Colin the runner bean acquitted himself rather well I am pleased to report. The kids thought it quite funny, granddad being a bean. But as I said, my pleasure was cut short when grandma pointed out to the kids that it was not Colin the been in granddad’s case, but Colin the has bean!!! Just wait until she sees that this week’s housekeeping allowance has bean reduced, then we will see who’s the clever cabbage around here.

   I have just spent a week catering for myself – all trudging and cooking. My cook and bottle washer has bean away for several days in Devon. Everything in the vegetable garden has gone crazy, growing at a rate of knots (so sooorry Blog, I have to confess that you have got me there … what is the metric equivalent of knots??? I bet those Johnny Foreigners have not thought of a word?). The beans have gone mad. Runner, broad and dwarf. So it has bean  self-catering been style. You should have seen the been stews I created! Delicious. It was been with every meal. I am thinking of a Recipe Book, “Colin Cooks” or ‘Being in with Beans’.

   Off for a very quiet trudge in the verge less lanes.

                                                            Colin

Mr and Mrs Brock go for walkies

It’s a funny old world sometimes Blog. As I may have told you frequently in the past, I have a tendancy in the summer months to wake up early, mainly I suppose because I have never got into the habit of drawing the bedroom curtains; they are left undrawn, even in the winter. As a consequence, I suspect the first glimmerings of light are enough to rouse me from my slumbers; as a do not often go back to sleep, I get up …... wandering down the Lane litter picking, I never get any strange looks at 4:30 in the morning, because no one is driving up or down the Lane at 4:30 in the morning. The point being, I get up early and am used to it. (Bear with me ……) For a couple of months now, I have been getting holes dug in my extensive network of lawns around my estate. The Head gardner thinks they are caused by rabbits, but my estate is pretty well rabbit proof, and the small cylindrical holes about three inches deep (10 centimetres Blog) don’t look like rabbit excavations. When a bunny wants to dig a hole, then a bunny digs a hole. No messing .. eat your heart out Mr Wimpey.* On my early morning litter pick, not a bunny have I seen. HOWEVER (read on, the excitement is beginning to mount). The security light and alarm went off at 3:15 am this morning. As I was wide awake I got up to see what had been the trigger for the security system to kick in. Out of the window, I saw the hole diggers, contentedly digging away, wholly n oblivious of me. Two of them. Not bothered by the light. Two badgers. I watched them burrowing around for ten minutes. Now, there has been a sett at the bottom of the garden for as many years as I can remember but none of the local plebs has ever seen the residents. The bloke who has the fields full of horses on the next estate down the Lane has a brief recording he made with a light sensitive camera lasting about 0.00003 milli seconds and that is it. Methinks, Yorick, I will skulk down there tonight to his horsey fields and engage him in chit chat and drop the fact that I have seen the badgers. yahoo matey boy. Before my trudge this am., I gave a wonderfully entertaining talk about ‘The History of Coventry Godiva Harriers and Other Clubs in the City over the last 140 years’ and Tiny Tims Children’s Centre, the charity which provides treatment for disable children, will benefit from the cheque the listeners were kind enough to donate. So far every talk I have given has been met by a request for a follow up lecture …… surely they ALL can’t feel that sorry for me??????????? Colin * I have to say I am rather proud of that one Blog, is it not clever or is it clever clever?

Fermat's next to last Theorem

Photograph Quiz:

Photo no. 169:- What is the connection between this sprinter and Coventry’s first World Record Holder? Och aye and while ye are doon in Coventry, ye could be visiting “The History of Coventry Godiva Harriers and other Clubs in the City during the last 140 years” as part of the Heritage Weekend in September.

Dear Blog

       As Fermat would have said to his mates, the Devil is in the detail!!!

Assume aⁿ + bⁿ = cⁿ to be true for all n>0, n=0 *

Then a^n-1 + b^n-1 = c^n-1 is true

                 etc. [a well-known mathematical term used first by the Euclidean Free School of Mathematics in Marathon, a village about 26.3 miles from Athens (42.3km to you Blog) where Priam was asked Helen, the school’s secretary, if she would go out on a date with him to watch the sacking of Troy on the wide vista vision screen at the local multiplex]

so a¹ + b¹ = c¹ is true

and a⁰ + b⁰ = c⁰ is true.

But I can see clearly now that 1 + 1 = 1 is strictly speaking not often the case.

Or to you Blog, 2 don’t not equal 1, not in your actual base 10 type numbers anyways. (ref *: you could go straight to here and miss all the other complex numbers out?)

Sos, if this is not true, the original assumption ain’t not true nohow.

So think again Andy boy, Wile away your time on squaring the circle!!!!

                                             Colin

It's nice toi go wandering. but it's oh so nice to come home .........

Dear Blog,

      I do apologise if I bore you with my little letters to you, but I do enjoy our intercourse with each other. I do not have a lot to look forward to as most people in a face to face situation turn it into a face to back of the neck situation.

      I have just got back from a few days sojourn to the White Horse, not the local pub but your very real life White Horse as in ancient monument White Horse on a hillside in Oxfordshire. We camped at strange camp site about half a mile (800 metres Blog – this conversion is rather tiresome you know!) away. The site was on a farm with four very large fields of many acres (hectares Blog – there I go again) with half a dozen porta loos in each. Given that there were only half a dozen families in residence on the whole farm so to speak, I wonder Why all the space, I wonder Why so many loos? I wonder How does the farmer make it pay? Presumably each weekend the Druids, or whoever it is who worship the chalk horse, turn up in their masses????? Anyways, It has to be the mega con of the century this White Horse thingie. Can you see it from the road? No you can’t. Can you see it when you visit the site? No you can’t! So how do you get a view????? Well I reckon the nearby army bods are running visitor viewing trips judging by the number of khaki unmarked helicopters of very large dimensions that flew overhead while I was camping.  I reckon Phil Hammond at the Ministry of Defence is helping that nice Mr Cameroon solve the UK debt crisis by running a few tourist sightseeing trips to over fly the White Horse on the quiet and not telling Nicholas Cleggleg about it. And I reckon the army charge a few extra quids for a few minutes hovering time, judging by the number of helicopters that come, circle, hover and buzz off from whence they came. I expect that the rate of flybys while I was there, means the National Deficit should be back in the Black by about this time next week if the weather holds up. So it’s well done to that nice Mr Cameroon and all his mates. A public school education has come in useful after all. That’s what charities should be about in my humble opinion, helping those who are better off to be even better off. Reward your mates with a bank or two and sod the plebs. After all what is plebs for if not to help their better be even better?

            I left my wife and daughter to continue their adventures while I return to look after the mansion with a capital ‘M’. Which means a touch of self-catering for me for a week. I am open to offers Blog, if you wish to invite me round to your place to save me from starving, vin rouge optional? No problem, my diary is pretty empty next week. I will even go as far as to say the blanche would be acceptable. My sister recommends that I go down to the super markets ( I don’t do super markets, sis, just as I don’t do mobile phones, or hole in the wall or takeaways or all the eyes paddies including the newspaper of the same name) and buy myself a ‘prick and ping’. She said it is a curry in a plastic bag which you put in the micro wave. I don’t do micro waves sis, just as I don’t do mobile phones or hole in the wall or takeaways or all the eye fones including the newspaper of the same name. I can’t remember whether she said in was a culinary delight or a complete pile of shite? The phone line was a bit crackly coming all the way down from Gods Own Country. I said I might give one a go if the fish and chip shop owner has me thrown out of her chip shop again for loitering – I keep telling her that I’m only after her cheap crispy scraps, her finny haddock doesn’t interest me!

       Any ways, I must stop now as my trudge has made me a touch desperate for my broad bean / touchme ond pea / runner bean / sweet potato mains and my rhubarb and cream followerss. All home produced blog, I kid you not.

                           Seethe, Colin