LOOK YOU ~ a rolling scrapbook of life, the universe and nearly everything...
ARCHIVE 2016 - JANUARY

To view previous
POSTCARDS FROM
MY SQUARE MILE
click... Smile
Updated: 11/08/2013

ALSO...
for a taste of life on the wild side of my square mile, click...

400 Smiles A Day
Updated: 08/06/2013



                                                                                        Design: Yosida

 
                                                                 ♫♫♫ TO SELF                            
It seems that the artist Leonardo da Vinci kept a notebook, Notes to Self, a list of “things to do today”: buy paper; charcoal; chalk ... describe tongue of woodpecker and jaw of crocodile...
     These are my Notes to Self, a daily record of the things that make me smile and which brighten up my day no end, whether read in a newspaper, seen on TV, heard on the radio, told in the pub, spotted in the supermarket, a good joke, a great story, a funny cartoon, a film clip, an eye-catching picture, a memorable song, something startling that nevertheless generates a spontaneous smile, curiosities spotted along my walks through the Towy Valley...
     This is a snapshot of life beyond the blue horizon...

    
                                                                               ...and everyday a doolally smile of the day
PS: The shortest distance between two people is a smile ...
                                                                             
Contact Me
 


Sunday, January 17th, 2016 > > > > > > Sunday, January 31st, 2016
 

“STRENGTH is the capacity to break a Kit Kat bar into four fingers ― and then eat just the one finger. Fortunately, as I grow older I grow much weaker.” Me ― but with huge apologies to American writer Judith Viorst, 84, for much paraphrasing of her original quote.

Yes, I’m about to enjoy
a break and a Kit Kat ― or two, or three, or four, maybe more ― so here I go, disappearing into my supply of Kitty Katties...

However, before I go, I must share another Liddle something with you.

Yesterday, Rod Liddle entertained Look You with tales of all that hanky-panky in lieu of payment for driving lessons. Well, in today’s Sunday Times  he was off on yet another tack, which also made me smile XL...

 

                      Liddle white lies

Should parents lie to their children? Users of the internet site Reddit have been sharing the patent untruths told to them by Mum and Dad. “You’re allergic to sugar” was one of my favourites. And: “The [bedroom] door is locked because Mummy was helping Daddy hang a picture behind the door.”

My parents lied to me for less pragmatic reasons. From my mum I got erroneous descriptions of various races: Finnish people were “cruel” and Belgians “utterly disgusting in every possible way”.

My father’s fibs were even more bizarre. At the age of five I asked him where thunderstorms came from. He thought for a while and replied: “They come from Baldock, Rod, a small town in North Hertfordshire.”

Memories

Actually, someone said the other day that they vividly remember their parents telling them that when the ice cream van was in the locality and played that familiar loud music, it meant there was no ice cream left.

Personally I was not a very inquisitive child; I simply allowed life, the universe and everything to just sweep over me. Meaning, if you ask no questions you get told no lies.

However, living on a farm, I do recall my parents warning me as a child never to touch or grab any sort of package or some such like found by the side of the road or in the hedgerows of the small country roads around home because they were quite likely to be “some sort of explosive package dropped by German planes during the war which still hadn’t been found by the army or the police”.

I never did get to the bottom of that because it was exceedingly rare to spot any sort of rubbish along our highways and byways during my childhood. Roadside rubbish is a very modern phenomenon. But there had to be some curious sort of logic for the warning, and I’m sorry that later in life I never thought to ask.

Whatever, while tucking into my Kitty Katties, I shall cast my mind back to see if I can recall any other white lies I was told as a kid. Santa doesn’t count, obviously.

See you soon, if spared.

Kitty ... Kitty ... here Kitty...

 

Saturday, January 16th

Carry On ... Up the Highway Code

THERE’S been a curious tale all over the shop of late, but I thought Rod Liddle embraced the wonderful smileyness of it all rather perfectly.

            Baby, take off your L-plates ... slowly

Every so often I read about a special offer that is simply too good to turn down. So it is with the ruling in Holland that allows driving instructors to accept sexual intercourse in lieu of financial payment from their students. As someone who is inept at driving and never has sexual intercourse, this very nicely kills two birds with one stone.

I assume one is permitted to choose one’s instructor ― if so, I would like that lady who represented Holland in the Eurovision Song Contest a couple of years back, or perhaps a minor member of the Dutch royal family.

Do you suppose that contraception is required ― or will they be happy with an emergency stop?

Very good, Rod ― but I was slightly worried there for a minute when you wanted the lady who represented Holland in the Eurovision Song Contest.

But I was thinking of Conchita Wurst For Wear, the bearded drag queen who won the contest in 2014 ― but ‘eshee was from Austria. Phew. Carry on, Rod.

Bits & Pieces

  “John Cleese once told me he’d do anything for money. So I offered him a pound to shut up, and he took it.” Fellow Monty Python comedian Eric Idle ― who obviously accepted that Cleese never said “Thank you”.

  “Always live in the ugliest house on the street, then you don’t have to look at it.” David Hockney, 78. English artist, with a neat bit of lateral thinking.

And I would guess that it would probably be the house least likely to be broken into.

  “Not looking at your watch.” James Cracknell, 43, Olympic rowing champion, and his definition of that mystic thing called happiness.

As I do not normally wear a watch, I wonder where on the happyometer that leaves me?

 

Friday, January 15th

Dead right

ACCORDING to recently published evidence of the dangers of drinking alcohol, if Winston Churchill were alive today, he’d be dead.
Hugh G. Brady of Worthing, W. Sussex, in a letter to the Daily Mail

The new guidelines include the warning that “if you have one or two heavy drinking sessions, you increase your risks of death”. This is impossible; risk of death is already 100 per cent.
Ian Prideaux of London SW4, in a letter to The Daily Telegraph

I see that, as a man, I’m being encouraged to limit my drinking to a single pint of beer per day. I’ve been doing exactly that for some time and am now up to 21 August 2017.
Steve Webb of Southwell, Nottinghamshire, in a letter to The Daily Telegraph

So now they tell us that even the smallest drop of booze is bad for us. Against this puritanical nannying, we might cite a Victorian friendly society that only offered insurance premiums for teetotallers ― before discovering that drinkers outlived them.
Rev Dr Peter Mullen of Eastbourne, East Sussex, in a letter to The Daily Telegraph

  “There are more old drunks than there are old doctors.” Willie Nelson, 82, American singer.

The observant will have noted that those who seemingly drink to excess yet enjoy good health and often live to a grand old age ― Winston Churchill was an intriguing example ― they all, crucially, love their food and eat regularly. Again, Churchill’s appreciation of good food is well acknowledged.

More importantly, those who suffer because of their heavy boozing do not regularly take meals. Drink is their stuff of life. Sadly.

Nothing today, thanks

Who remembers the ‘No hawkers, no circulars’ signs on gates? Could our computers not be fitted with the same message?
Christine Green of Sheepwash, Devon, in a letter to the Daily Mail

My suspicions were aroused recently when I read a message (later confirmed as a scam) informing me that my email account had “exceeded it’s quota”. Long may the rules of grammar distinguish the sheep from the goats.
The Rev Claire Wilson of London NW3 in a letter to The Times

Talking of email scams, this message has just appeared in my junk inbox:

Secure SkypeNotifier ― Hey, Delayed e-mails immaculately

The Rev Claire Wilson’s sheep and goats came to mind as I clicked on the delete button.

However,
I also received a proper message from the Compare The Market insurance people. Indeed, towards the end of last year I insured my car through them, and I’m sort of proud to say that I didn’t actually go for the cheapest.

Now, though, I get regular emails from those entertaining little meerkats as they sniff out more business opportunities, which is fair enough.

They also have this 2 for 1 cinema tickets offer, which I have never claimed, or indeed shown any interest in.

So this message lands in my inbox...

Comparethemeerkat.com ... 1b.Male_Inactive ― HB, see The Hateful Eight with MEERKAT MOVIES...

Now I don’t think those meerkats had meant to officially point out that I’m a second-class bloke, who has walked through time doing as little as he can possibly get away with ― but I did smile as I pondered how the hell they can tell so much about me from a simple motor insurance quote.

Knit wit and purls of wisdom

My late grandfather told the story of his cleaning lady who, when asked what she took for her constipation, replied: “I takes my knitting.”
Jonah Walker-Smith of London W2, in a letter to The Times

I remember as a teenager in the Seventies asking my grandmother, upon her return home after a weekend stay with friends, whether she had enjoyed her trip. “Oh yes, I had a lovely time,” she replied. “I slept under one of those newfangled bidets. Very comfortable it was, too.”
Richard Huntingford of London SW13, in a letter to The Daily Telegraph

Fowl play

It seems a paradox that people who think the name Black Cock Inn refers to anything other than a dusky fowl, or who indulge in similar wilful misinterpretations, appear to believe themselves to be victims or to have been offended.
     In the past they were just considered to have a dirty mind.
Laurence Young of Faversham, Kent in a letter to The Times

I always accuse myself of having a one-track mind, a dirt-track. I shall go and sit on the naughty step.
 


Thursday, January 14th

Good morning, this is your alarm call

TIME, methinks, to again visit my Desert Island Video Jukebox (alongside), in particular the Rise & Shine section ― essentially because of something spotted on the interweb ― ta-dah...

Wham! ~ Wake me up before you go-go


Waking up at the SMACK of dawn: Alarm clock slaps you in
the face to get you out of bed

 

Robotics enthusiast Simone Giertz (shown sleeping inset) built the device dubbed ‘The Wake Up Machine’ on her houseboat in Sweden. It comprises an alarm clock and motorised rubber arm wired to an Arduino Uno microcontroller housed in a wall-mounted biscuit tin. Positioned above the bed, the arm whips around to repeatedly slap the sleeping person in the face (main image) when the alarm goes off.

Each to her own. And of course it presumes that you stay in the same position all night, something I certainly do not. There again, the whole thing is meant to raise a smile. Tick.

 

As it happens I have no trouble waking up of a morning, quite early in fact, and immediately getting up.

However, if I was a bit shaky first thing, I have already put together a series of glorious sound effects to tease me into life ― from a car refusing to start ... to the glorious sound of Dario G and Sunchyme.

Along the way listen out for the really smiley crowing cocks, the exquisite rhythm of the trains climbing the Lickey Incline just south of Birmingham, and the perfect music tracks ... here are the YouTube links:

Sound effects - Car engine refusing to start
Cocks crowing
Rooster crowing compilation
Steam Trains on the Lickey Incline
Twin Steam Trains on the Lickey Incline
Opening music to 2001: A Space Odyssey
Snap out of it – Jaws Theme
Sunchyme – Dario G

Oh yes, that final choice of mine: 8:26 minutes of pure sunshine and joy. It would be wonderful waking up to that every morning, especially on the coldest of mornings, as today.

However, I’d still stick with those trains. Not just the rhythm of the whole caboodle as it slowly climbs that famous incline, but the sound effects slowly but surely getting louder and louder, especially the whistle as a final wake-up call...

And as I raised a glass to those steam trains, a confusing clickbait just spotted:

Dry January ‘could do more harm than good’, claims expert

I don’t believe it. What are they talking about? We are promised a settled if cold, frosty and perhaps snowy spell ― but after all that winter rain how on earth is a dry January bad news --- ah, hang about, they were actually talking about alcohol.

Let’s move quickly on...

  “Never drink more than you can lift.” With apologies to Miss Piggy for marginally paraphrasing her best advice on dieting and self-control.

Meanwhile, in the snug bar... 

“I say, I say, I say, my dog’s learning to speak a foreign language.”

“Español?”

“No, he’s a Labrador.”

“Ah, Newfoundland Irish, then. And it’s Labradorean, by the by.”

                                                          -----------------

“I say, I say, I say, I walked past a rubbish skip parked up outside a house today ― and there was nothing in it except for a kitchen sink. Boom-boom!

 

Wednesday, January 13th

Cooking up a storm


DO YOU remember this from the beginning of the month?

Most irresistible gift of 2015
(From the London Evening Standard diary)

The Jeremy Corbyn colouring book, drawn by James Nunn, features the Labour leader, among other things, parting the Red Sea and as a collection of Russian dolls...

One of the drawings, however, catches the attention a bit more than the others. It’s a reinterpretation of Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel ceiling fresco, with Jezza Corbyn as Adam and Karl Marx as God.

“Jeremy’s in the nude,” Ben Yarde-Buller [the publisher] adds. “They [Corbyn aides who showed interest in obtaining copies to give to supporters] couldn’t tell if that would make it more or less appealing as a Christmas present.”

Incidentally, over the past year I note that there has been a 1,200 per cent increase in sales of adult colouring books. Look away now, eh?

Now when I shared that original piece about the Jeremy Corbyn colouring book I had meant to include the following, compliments of Atticus (Roland White) in The Sunday Times  ― so, better late than never.

Simply Jezza

Thank you to readers who sent contributions to a possible Corbynista Cookbook.

Steak Diane was a popular choice, but only Glynn Dalby served it with Abbott Ale. Other suggestions were Lenin drivel cake (Ian Mills), anti-coronation chicken (Angela Vince) and Benn’s on toast (Richard Lewis) followed by a box of Equality Street (Christopher Hall).

The winner of the CCCP Cookbook: True Stories of Soviet Cuisine  is Comrade Keith Bullock, who offered Mao-Tse tongue followed by seasonal Ho Chi Minh’s pies.

Let us celebrate his glorious victory by singing The Red Flan.

O so very clever and witty, and definitely worth the wait.

And so, to round off today’s Jezza Corbyn soapbox corner:

  “Sadiq Khan supports Jeremy Corbyn like the rope supports the hanging man.” Former MP George Galloway, who has thrown his ever present hat into the mayor of Old London Town ring, offers up his thoughts on Labour’s candidate for mayor of Old London Town.

Yes, you have to smile at the endless proof that it really is a delightfully doolally world out there ― and nothing highlights it more than the response to David Bowie’s death.

Yes, I know, I did go there yesterday, but the exquisitely crazy stuff keeps rolling in.

  “Like nothing else we have ever seen.” Tony Blair, writing in The Times, splashes an extravagance of Old Spice hero-worship all over the memory of David Bowie ― but as Stephen Glover in the Daily Mail points out, there is curiously no mention of Bowie in Blair’s autobiography, which runs to nearly 700 pages.

Ah, how easy it is to look stupid. Stephen Glover continues...

Tony Blair’s vicar on earth, Alastair Campbell, pre-empted his former master’s fatuous article in The Times with a most revealing tweet. “Only two times I saw Tony Blair star-struck ... when he met David Bowie at the Brits and Barbra Streisand in a make-up room. Star goes out. RIP.”

Doesn’t this say it all? Tony Blair is only in awe of a couple of pop stars. Not the Queen or soldiers who had risked their lives in one of the several wars he involved them in, or great philosophers and writers who may have crossed his path. Just David Bowie and Barbra Streisand.

Glover also ponders the following little gem in praise of Bowie, allegedly one of the greatest geniuses who has ever lived ― and one quoted here on Look You just yesterday:

Boris Johnson, a product of the Eaton and Oxford educational institutions, also took to twitterdom without fully engaging his mind. “No one in our age has better deserved to be called a genius.”

Really? What about the great Russian writer Solzhenitsyn, who died in 2008? Or James Watson, who discovered the structure of the DNA molecule?

Oh yes, yesterday David Beckham was also mentioned in dispatches, and this is what Glover had to say:

Nor is it worth getting worked up by ex-footballer David Beckham, who posted a picture of David Bowie on Instagram, saying: “Rest in Peace STARMAN.” It’s difficult to see the point of such a post unless it is to draw our attention to David Beckham.

Alas, so many tributes ― not least Tony Blair’s ― seem calculated to show the admirer in the best possible light.

What can I add?

Well, this observation in the comment section of Mail Online tickled all the boxes:

John of Grimsby: The grieving obsession started with Diana and we’ve become expert at the show of grief with books of remembrance, piles of flowers and candles, scarves tied round railings, etc., all for people we never knew.

Couldn’t believe Jeremy Vine on BBC Radio 2 on Monday ― he spent the morning with tears streaming down his face and his wife drove him to work because she told him “there’s no way you’re cycling in whilst you’re in this state”. He was so proud of himself for being so gutted over someone he’d never met.

Wouldn’t like to think of Jeremy in a wartime trench seeing his best mate get blown away ― he’d have needed a month off.

Man up out there ― David Bowie had a full life and had great success but the world isn’t “turning a little slower” this morning with his passing. I say all of this as a 55-year-old who heard all his music in the 1970s and enjoyed it.

Perfectly observed, John of Grimsby.

All I can add is what I said yesterday: My only regret for David Bowie and a life seemingly well lived, if over-indulged, is that he missed that three-score-years-and-ten bell for the final lap. After all, after 70 (the promised age), every hour is a glorious curtain call.
 


Tuesday, January 12th

Take a Bowie

  ALL THE birds of the airwaves fell a-sighing and a-sobbing when they heard of the death of poor old David Robert Jones (aka David Bowie) ... Goodness me, talk about ground control to Major TomTom.

Since early yesterday morning, Monday, there was no escaping the life and times of David Bowie. In minute detail. On every meeja outlet. Total overkill.

So at around 10 o’clock yesterday morning I abandoned all news channels and music radio stations. Nothing against Bowie, indeed I really like some of his songs. Just as I thoroughly enjoy the odd Stones, Beatles and Elvis tracks.

But I also enjoy a bit of Sinatra, Streisand and Strauss, along with the occasional song of praise thrown in for good measure (and to hopefully cover all the exits). Look, nothing like a bit of this, a tad of that ― and of course a little snatch of the other.

However, it would appear that those who control the media in Britain 2016 danced exclusively around the Bowie Totem Pole ― which explains all the meeja madness.

Thank goodness, though, for Classic FM on the wireless, for the station only mentioned the death of Bowie at 69-years-of-age on their news bulletins.

But there was no escaping the blanket coverage, even online.

Still, here are a few eye-catching tweets:

  Boris Johnson @MayorofLondon: Terrible news to hear Brixton born David Bowie has died. No one in our age has better deserved to be called a genius.

I enjoyed how Boris managed to subliminally promote Old London Town with his “Brixton born”. Also, is the word “genius” not in danger of going the way of “hilarious” as deployed in online meeja clickbaits to describe even the tiniest degree of amusement?

  GermanForeignOffice @GermanyDiplo: Good-bye, David Bowie. You are now among #Heroes. Thank you for helping to bring down the #wall.

Yes, I did check to see if it was a leg-pull ... but no, it was genuine.

And finally, thanks to
@JohnRentoul for pointing me in the direction of The Spectator  and Julie Burchill on everyone else on David Bowie: “Please spare us the sob signaling over David Bowie.”

Here’s a brief grab...

My lack of deeper feelings about David Bowie came as something of a surprise to me, and I know my bad self quite well. While Facebook friends professed themselves to be living through THE WORST DAY EVER, my thoughts were merely “O, isn’t it lovely that he spent his life making such a good living from doing the things he loved
!”.

She rounds off her penetrating piece thus:

You’ll excuse me for finishing now, as I’m on tenterhooks waiting to hear what David Beckham makes of it. Because they have the same initials
! ... [as for David Bowie] ... What a good life’s work it was ― well done, him. And that’s all I have to say on the subject.

I appreciate how Burchill felt.

Oh yes, today’s Google Doodle celebrated Charles Perrault’s 388th birthday.

Charles Perrault? Who he? Well, a Frenchman, I learn, and the father of the modern fairytale, with classics like Little Red Riding Hood, Sleeping Beauty and Cinderella on his CV. Impressive or what?

However, a bit of a philosophical tease. Who do suppose of the following will Google Doodle be celebrating in another 300 years or so: Bowie, Jagger, Lennon, Presley, Sinatra, Streisand, Strauss or William Williams Pantycelyn (a famous Welsh hymn writer, and actually, his 300 years will come round next year)?

My only regret for David Bowie and a life seemingly well lived, if over-indulged, is that he missed that three-score-years-and-ten bell for the final lap. After all, after 70 (the promised age), every hour is a glorious curtain call.

PS: I am writing this on the Tuesday evening after the Lord Mayor’s show ― and I may just risk sneaking back in touch with the world as seen through the eyes of the alarmingly Starstruck meeja.

Wish me well...
 

Monday, January 11th
 

And now for something completely different, sort of


HONESTLY, I only have to click on this interweb thingy and I will inevitably spy with my beady little eye, something or other ― usually a picture ― which instantly reminds me of something completely different but remarkably similar.

So I see this exceedingly smiley photo of a cat ... and then the thinking part of my brain catches up with the all-seeing bit of my brain and ― bingo!

See if you agree...

   

Poor old Jeremy Corbyn, he can’t seem to do anything right these days, a classic example of ‘The Peter Principle’ i.e. every person will rise or get promoted to his or her level of incompetence.

Indeed, many believe Jeremy Corbyn is turning the Labour party into something of a political group with socially deviant or novel beliefs and practices, in other words, a cult.

For example, Corbyn’s much anticipated and hugely drawn-out frontbench reshuffle turned into a Monty Python sketch, leaving in its wake the resignation (as opposed to the sacking) of so many shadow ministers.

 

  “Jeremy Corbyn’s Shadow Cabinet reshuffle was more of a kerfuffle.” D Allen of Runcorn, Cheshire in a letter (while playing around with letters) to the Daily Mail.

And just to add insult to injury, Corbyn’s Twitter account was last night hacked when it started broadcasting a series of bizarre and foul-mouthed messages.

But first, a significant warning...

In one post the wicked hacker poked fun at Jezza Corbyn’s well-known opposition to Trident, Britain’s nuclear missile system: “Fuck trident.”

Another message to the Labour leader’s 384,000 followers started:
“Here we ... here we ... here we fuckin' go
!

And then there was one which mocked Prime Minister Cameron:
“davey cameron is a pie.”

This one baffled people. I mean, not very insulting or risqué.

But surely, it was code for “davey cameron is a hairy pie”, which is of course code for “davey cameron is a fanny”. Or “davey cameron is a twat”. Or indeed, the powerful c-word, if you are so inclined.

And on that note, the Sun  newspaper must be grateful the hacker didn’t get into its workings when nobody was paying attention:


 


Sunday, January 10th

So many forks in the road

IT’S getting more confusing by the day out there. Witness these clickbaits...

2015 (Daily Mail)

Factfile: why is red wine good for you?

Medicinal claims for the benefits of red wine have been boosted further after research from the National Heart and Lung Institute at Imperial College, London, suggested it could help treat serious lung disease and reduce the harmful effects of smoking.

Also, past studies have linked components of red wine with helping to prevent cancer, protecting against heart problems and improving brain function...

Excellent. But hang about:

2016 January (Independent)

Red wine not good for you after all, doctors to reveal

Red wine’s supposed health benefits are set to be rubbished by Government experts, according to reports. A landmark report by Chief Medical Officer, Dame Sally Davies...


Do you suppose they are all winding us up? Indeed, Warwick Banks of Grantham, Lincs, in a letter to the Daily Mail, wondered aloud if Dame Sally Davies was a teetotaller because she looks as if a good glass of red wine might cheer her up a bit. Nice one.

And anyway, if the drink doesn’t get you, then the sex will:

2016 January (Metro)

Man, 43, with bionic penis has to wait even longer to lose virginity

After getting fitted with an eight-inch bionic member, Abad revealed that he’d made plans to lose his virginity to 35-year-old sex worker and failed MP Charlotte Rose. But the date has been put on hold, because Abad has been involved in another car accident and breaking a leg.

Oh dear, Abad day at the office ― and out BLBW! (Bionic Leg Before Wicket). Oh, and I did smile at that has to wait even longer in the headline. There’s that juvenile gene of mine kicking in yet again.

And finally, this:

2016 January (Daily Mail)

Transgender woman, 26, is accused of raping 15-year-old girl before she changed sex from male to female...

I gave up at that point and went in search of that third bottle of champagne waiting to have its cork massaged ― and that despite the NHS health chief insisting last Friday that I should really drink more tea instead of wine.
 


Saturday, January 9th

Snowbird

A TRAFFIC camera above a Canadian freeway has captured a surprisingly quality image of a snowy owl in flight, taken last Sunday by Transport Quebec’s cameras along Montreal’s Highway 40 as the bird came in to probably perch atop the camera pole...


03/01/2016: Snowy owl snapped in flight by CCTV in snowy Montreal, Canada
 

Transport Minister Robert Poëti tweeted about the owl early last Thursday morning, and the province later released video footage of the bird’s graceful entrance, stage right (simply Google ‘traffic camera captures images of snowy owl’, or similar).

The snowy owl is an official symbol of Quebec and is protected from hunters in Canada, though birds are occasionally and predictably killed in collisions with cars, aeroplanes and power lines.

Owls are of course symbolic of higher wisdom (hence Chief Wise Owl at the Crazy Horsepower Saloon).

Snowy owls breed north of the Arctic Circle, where they hunt in the summer ― and probably spot Sami people and their reindeer going about their business.

Flower power

Keeping to the ‘snow’ theme, I recently observed how reluctant the snowdrops are to make a show in the woods this winter, and that despite the invitingly mild weather.

Well now, every Saturday the Western Mail  newspaper has a gardening column, part of which is called Ask Lynne, the author one Lynne Allbutt, and endlessly interesting she is, too. For example:
 

Snowdrops are less abundant this year. Our gardening writer offers explanations

Q: I am reading a lot about plants in the garden being ahead of schedule and our daffodils are definitely further ahead than they were last year, but our snowdrops are looking very poor. There are not as many as usual. Is it weather related or should I be feeding them?

A: You are not the only one who is worried about their snowdrops. They are indeed less abundant this year. I believe there are two reasons. One is that they haven’t had any harsh frosts, which they need to be able to tell what time of year it is and that they should be preparing for their big debut.

I think the mild temperatures are leading them to think it is still October. If we have the severe frosts that are forecast for the middle of the month, I am confident they will be propelled into action.

Secondly, I think that they had such a good year last year that they are “recovering” a little this year. My father always used to say that if a plant or shrub had a prolific flowering season, it would have a bit of a “whiff” the following year. It is all about balance.

Of course, while we appreciate the beauty of a good flowering year, in nature it denotes good seed production. Dad’s theory was based on the fact that a rest was in order after a seed-sowing season.

If you feel inclined, you could lift some of your snowdrops and split them up. Overcrowding will also limit blooming, but personally I would wait until next year to see if they were resting or restless!

See what I mean? Dead interesting is our Lynne. And I am not even a gardener. However, I will look on snowdrops in a slightly different light in future.
 


Friday, January 8th
 

“I must get out of these wet clothes and into a dry Martini”
No, not James Bond, but Alexander Woolcott (1887-1943)

I PARTICULARLY enjoy it when various laugh-out-louds off the Look You smileometer come together in glorious coincidence.

For example, that memorable Bette Davis quote: “You should never say bad things about the dead, only good. Joan Crawford is dead. Good! Also this from Burt Reynolds’ memoir, But Enough About Me:  “Bette was tough and indomitable ... she smoked even in the dentist’s chair.”

And then yesterday, there I was fondly reminiscing about seeing off a few bottles of champagne over the festive season, prompted perhaps by Celia Imrie’s “I need to laugh more and drink more glasses of champagne ― even when there is nothing to celebrate”, and of course GK Chesterton’s: “Drink because you are happy, but never because you are miserable.”

So a Telegraph  clickbait and picture beckoned...

Forget Dry January: the 25 best quotes about drinking


A celebration of some of the funniest, most inspiring ― and occasionally
sobering ― quotes about drinking ... and yes indeedy, that is
 Bette Davis up there, looking decidedly naughty and nice

So here’s just a handful or so of my favourites...

  “The only time I ever enjoyed ironing was the day I accidentally got gin in the steam iron.” Phyllis Diller (1917-2012).

  “Always do sober what you said youd do drunk. That will teach you to keep your mouth shut.” Ernest Hemingway (1899-1961).

 “Wine can be a better teacher than ink, and banter is often better than books.” Stephen Fry, 58.

  “A dry martini,” he said. “One. In a deep champagne goblet.” “Oui, monsieur.” “Three measures of Gordon’s, one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet. Shake it very well until it’s ice-cold, then add a large thin slice of lemon peel. Got it?” Bond. James Bond.

I particularly like how the “Oui, monsieur” from the barman definitely adds something to that quote. Mind you, just one of those 007 Specials would be enough for this witty lady...
 

  “Here’s to alcohol, the cause of, and solution to, all of life’s problems.” Who else but Homer Simpson (1955 - ?) ― but originally uttered, as far back as we know, by Plato (428-348). Great minds think alike, obviously.

One for the road

Mind you, I was pulled up short by this story spotted all over the shop today...

Drink tea instead of wine, NHS health chief says ... No amount of alcohol should be called ‘safe’ in the biggest shake-up of alcohol advice in 30 years

Health chiefs attacked over nanny state alcohol guide that warns against even one glass of wine which raises risk of cancer

A drop dead

Surely, though, it is not alcohol per se that gives us cancer but the brain instructing us to indulge in drink, food, smoking, drugs, sex, whatever ― to compensate for its own short-circuiting.

It is a perfect example of experts and politicians putting their fancy carts in front of the wise old horse.

But precisely how you whip our brains and immune systems into order is another matter entirely.

Landlord! Same again...
 


Thursday, January 7th

Champagne Charlie is not quite my name
(but I am working on it)

  “I need to laugh more and drink more glasses of champagne ― even when there is nothing to celebrate.” Actress Celia Imrie, 62, contemplating her next 20 years ― and Celia’s quote takes its third curtain call here on Look You since first climbing my smileometer, oh, nearly a year ago now.

But there’s method in my madness. Last Tuesday I finally waved cheerio to 2015, compliments of a bottle of champagne bursting into life with 2016 bareback riding the exploding cork into another smiley new year.

Talking of champagne, if I rewind a little, my personal festive viewing featured two perfect bookends (tellyends?).

Oh, I should first say that on Christmas Eve I had three bottles of champagne in stock. So best to get this quote out of the way:

 “Drink because you are happy, but never because you are miserable.” G. K. Chesterton (1874-1936), English writer, lay theologian, poet, philosopher, dramatist, journalist, orator, literary and art critic, biographer, and Christian apologist. So there. Do not argue with GK.

Good quote, though. Right, back to my festive viewing:

All Aboard
! The Sleigh Ride (BBC4) on Christmas Eve: just me (by choice), a bottle of champagne ― and an enchantingly relaxing couple of hours in the company of two Sami girls and their reindeer.

In a Slow TV Christmas special, BBC Four had rigged a traditional reindeer sleigh with cameras (and sometimes a drone providing a captivating aerial view of the convoy) for a magical journey across the frozen wilderness 200 miles north of the Arctic Circle.

The two girls and their three reindeers and sledges followed the path of an ancient postal and travel route still used by the Sami to connect their villages.

A magical, mystery tour with Rudolph leading the way

A mesmeric two-hour trek deep inside the Arctic Circle with no plot, no dialogue,
no music, no annoying celebrity presenter ... heaven in a purple-grey half-light

Sleigh something simple

This marvellous sleigh ride was filmed in real time, a journey of some three miles at a temperature of -21º with just four hours of daylight available to play around with.

There was no commentary, no annoying celebrity presenter ‘having a go’ and telling us how wonderful it all was, no distracting music to fill the gaps ― just the occasional caption floating across the screen to enlighten us about the journey.

There was nothing to disturb the rhythmic sight and sound of the two Sami tribeswomen ― Anne-Louise and Charlotta, just occasionally talking to the reindeer or each other ― the crunch of snow underfoot, the hint of a gentle breeze on the microphone (and was that the tinkle of reindeer bells?), and the odd sighting of husky dogs rushing over the snow as they all made their way across the icy crust at the top of the world.

Mind you, I did feel a teeny bit sorry for the ‘trailer’ reindeer that was unceremoniously being tugged along by the pace of Rudolph at the front.

All in all though it was as wonderful and relaxing a way to spend a couple of hours (while at the same time dispatching a bottle of champagne) as has ever been invented.

If it’s a journey that appeals, search out All Aboard! The Sleigh Ride  on YouTube. There’s a link below to a three-minute trailer. And watch out for the rhythmic and mesmeric walking pace of the girl at the front.

Anyway, from Christmas Eve ... to New Year’s Day, and the evening repeat of the
New Year’s Day Concert From Vienna (BBC4, again): just me (by choice), a bottle of champagne and a rhythmic and melodic couple of hours in the company of the Vienna Philharmonic...

Yet another perfect way to appreciate a bottle of champagne. And as the man said: “Drink because you are happy, but never because you are miserable.”

PS: Here is that YouTube link to The Sleigh Ride  trailer, a three-minute starter for 120:

                                                                                               All Aboard The Sleigh Ride: Preview – BBC Four
 


Wednesday, January 6th

There is nothin' like a dame

IT’S been that doolally time of year when we commoners and gardeners have to learn to tug our forelocks at a whole new passing parade of dodgy Very Important Persons.

Yes, the New Year’s honours have been chucked about like confetti.

I particularly enjoyed this letter in The Times:

Stand and deliver

Sir, Britain has a noble tradition of citizens who selflessly dedicated their lives to helping others for minimal or no remuneration, and a number feature in the New Year’s honours list.
     It’s a pity their reward is sullied by the inclusion of celebs, spivs, cronies, robber barons, CEOs, failed politicians, journeymen academics and the usual host of Whitehall time-servers.
Rev Dr John Cameron, St Andrews, Fife

Cameron? David’s uncle, you suppose? Nah, surely not. But I did like this response to the above missive...

  @guywalters: Who is this clergyman? I’d love to hear him preach!

I see where Guy Walters is coming from. The letter is particularly well written with an easy-going rhythm and a little ball bouncing along over the top of every word.

Queen Victoria calling

One honour which has drawn a shed load of negative meeja comments is that of now Brand New Dame, Barbara Windsor, 78, English actress best known for her appearances in the Carry On films and blessed with an extravagant talent for double entendre.

Oh, and for playing pub landlady Peggy Mitchell of the Queen Vic in the BBC One soap opera EastEnders ― and shouting “GET OUT OF MY PUB! at those who step on her toes.

Our Babs has certainly got a colourful ‘Why don’t you come up sometime and CV me’ history, and she has most definitely become the most unexpected and unlikeliest of dames.

Yes, she comes under the ambiguous term ‘national treasure’ ― but as many point out, does she really merit the highest honour in the New Year’s list? Hm.

There again, I can hear both Prince Philip and David Cameron having a good old ding-dong around the old joanna...

         

          There ain’t a thing that’s wrong with any man here
          That can’t be cured by putting him near
          A girly, womanly, female, feminine dame
!

At least Dames Babs and Helen Mirren will now be able to enjoy a raucous f***-me sing-along down at The Old Bush & Bollocks.

A couple of observations to round up all the excitement surrounding this damehood business, both perfect bookends to this glorious thing we call wit and wisdom. First...

  @ NickMotown: Many believe that Barbara Windsor should’ve had a damehood years ago for services to innuendo. Nice to see someone finally give her one.

And then this in The Times:

It’s all in the name

Sir, That Barbara Windsor should be given an honour comes as no surprise to an old cynic such as myself. It is clearly a case of nepotism.
Basil Bailey, Hawick, Scottish Borders

Oh, and fair play, one for the road...

  “I just thought, ‘Why do you want to rain on my parade? Why do you want to do that?’, but then I forgot that’s what it’s all about.” Dame Babs hits back at those critics of her award.

Addendum: A letter in the Daily Mail:

Roll up, roll up

AT A fairground ‘hook-a-duck’ stall recently I managed to capture a duck. The stallholder asked: “What prize would you like ... a coconut or a knighthood?”
Colin Chalkley, Wakefield, W. Yorks
 


Tuesday, January 5th

Better late than never, so...
 

Here’s lookin’ at you...
 

Monday, January 4th

For what we are about to receive...

BEFORE allowing 2015 to gently disappear in my rear-view mirror, I must include this tale of a most curious Christmas Day lunch:

Is this the ‘saddest’ Christmas dinner ever? Diner forked out £45 for a luxury
meal of turkey and trimmings ― but ended up with this paltry plate of food...

 

Derri Burdon was so disappointed with her Christmas Day meal at the Whistling Wren in Leigh, Greater Manchester, she took to Facebook to share her experience.

Ms Burdon said: “Dear family and friends ― before I make this public I wanted to gauge your opinion. If you paid £45 for a Christmas Day meal would you be happy to have been served this?

“We were at the Whistling Wren in Leigh. I have complained to Marston’s but was told the meal was as they would expect apart from it being served on the wrong size plate (I expect the plate should have been smaller).

The service on the day was awful too. The table didn’t have a cloth and was set as it would be on a normal day. Not the stuff memories are made of.”

A spokesman for Marston’s Brewery said Ms Burdon had been given a full refund for her meal on the day and said the price included champagne on arrival, starter, main, dessert and coffee and mints, which was not captured on the photograph.

Bruce Millington, area manager of the Whistling Wren, said: “We are very sorry that the customer in question was not happy with her experience with us at the Whistling Wren on Christmas Day.

“It was obviously not our intention. She did complain at the time and received a full refund for the four-course meal worth £40 per head before she left the pub on that day.

“We have been in dialogue with her directly since and will continue to liaise with her on a one-to-one basis as required.”

(as spotted in Mail Online)

 

Oh dear, you have to smile. And I did wonder if Derri Burden ‘loaded’ the plate herself or was that how it was plonked in front of her.

Derri also mentioned that “the table didn’t have a cloth and was set as it would be on a normal day” ― which brought to mind Radio Cymru’s Dyddiadur ‘Dolig Non  ― Non’s Christmas Diary ― from December 12:

“When you stop to think about it, Christmas Day lunch is just a Sunday lunch XL, but for some reason which I do not quite understand, each and every year it takes on the importance of an Olympics Opening Ceremony...”

As a positive to the tale, and much like Miss Colombia who will always dine out on the fact that she was crowned Miss Universe for all of 90 seconds before a mega cock-up was realised, Derri and her family will always have something to talk and laugh about while enjoying future Christmas Day meals.

A
couple of Mail Online  comments also caught my eye...

Mae of Guildford: Let’s put this into perspective, I don’t think this is the ‘saddest’ Christmas dinner ever. Some people literally have nothing and that is sad. This is simply a rip-off.

Teenborg of London: Please. She obviously didn’t ask for gravy ... which would have made that meal OK.


I did drizzle a smile all over that last comment. In fact, the ‘turkey’ in the picture looked at first glance more like a piece of salmon.

Anyway, let’s call it a day with two favourite old Christmas cracker jokes dusted off and well worth a repeat. Both, I believe, have previously been voted the best worst cracker jokes of their day...
 

The Past, the Present and the Future walked into a bar ... it was tense.

How does King Wenceslas like his pizza? Deep-pan, crisp and even.

Yes, both worthy winners. Or should that be worthy losers?

 

Sunday, January 3rd

 I missed that bit in 2015 


THE following clearly earn their place on my 2015 smileometer...


 “Did I really say that?” Hindsight Award 2015 

  “Donald J Trump,” announced Donald J Trump deploying his default grandiose pout, “is calling for a total and complete shutdown of Muslims entering the United States.”

Trumping Trump’s claims that there were no-go areas in Old London Town, Mayor Boris Johnson retorted: “The only reason I wouldn’t go to some parts of New York is the real risk of meeting Donald Trump.”

Touché, as they say ― which leads me perfectly to...


 Upper Case Twitter Slip of the Year Award 2015 

  Hilary Clinton’s team explained that her response on Twitter to Donald J Trump should be read as
“love trumps hate” not the gloating “love Trump’s hate”.


 Boxing Day Tweet of the Year Award 2015 

Tweetie Pie Corner
    
“Christ, I knew you couldn’t read. Can’t you count either?” Alastair Campbell in a message to Labour piss artist ― oops ― Labour peer Lord Prescott, who taunted the ex-spin doctor with the words “What’s the score? What’s the score?” when his team Hull City beat Campbell’s beloved Burnley 3-0 on Boxing Day.


 Best Counter-trolling Tweet of the Year Award 2015 

  “The internet doesn’t just offer opportunities for misogynistic abuse, you know. Penis enlargers can also be bought discreetly.” JK Rowling responds to a troll hiding under Twitter’s rickety bridge.


 Spot The Obvious Ambush Award 2015 

The barrister Charlotte Proudman, 27, outed “leering lawyer” Alexander Carter-Silk, 57, as a sexist for calling her Linkedin profile picture “stunning”. She claimed he had “objectified her” by focusing on her appearance rather than her professional attributes.

Twitter responded by suggesting she change her name to the “gender-neutral” Proudperson.


 Spot the Not So Obvious Ambush Award 2015 

When Cadbury decided to resurrect its 1960s TV chocolate Milk Tray Man ads in October, it walked into a meltdown of a minefield. ITV held a studio debate “Milk Tray ad ― chivalrous or sexist?” and on social media the Milk Tray Man was declared “a bit rapey”. Cadbury panicked, announcing “the next Milk Tray Man could be a woman”.

Hm, so that  is why Irene Rosenfeld, head of Mondelez International, the owner of Cadbury, is paid $21m (£14m) a year, as opposed to actually earning it.


 
Transfer all blood from brain to penis ASAP Award 2015 

  “I was stupid, and there is no fool like an old fool.” MP Simon Danczuk, 49, a child abuse campaigner, who has been suspended by the Labour Party for sending “lewd” text messages to a 17-year-old girl.

Finally...

A Bette Davis addendum apropos yesterday’s  ‘Most quotable quote of 2015’ :
“You should never say bad things about the dead, only good. Joan Crawford is dead. Good!

  “Bette Davis wasn’t afraid to play unattractive characters, parts other actresses wouldn’t touch, parts that were dangerous and hard to bring off ... Bette was tough and indomitable ... she smoked even in the dentist’s chair.” From Burt Reynolds’ memoir But Enough About Me.

 


Saturday, January 2nd
 

 Choice news headlines from 2015 


STILL a few more loose ends to tie up before the champagne is popped to welcome in 2016 proper...


 Most unsurprising headline of 2015 

E-cigarettes are no safer than smoking tobacco, scientists claim

I never quite understood how inhaling any sort of chemical concoction was deemed to be safe. Whatever...


 Most surprising headline of 2015  

“10 o’clock and, quite remarkably, this exit poll is saying that the Conservatives are the largest party on 316 seats”

Yes indeedy, and the Tories go on to win a 12-seat majority in Parliament with 331 seats, and we punters throw a contemptuous sideways glance at the pollsters who got the run-up to the election so horribly wrong.


 Most Well I’ll go to the foot of our stairs headline of 2015 

Jeremy Corbyn wins Labour leadership contest getting almost 60% of more than 400,000 votes cast

Corbyn was, unbelievably, a 200-1 outsider when the three-month leadership race got under way.

Since the result was announced, most punters have been busily speculating if the 251,417 of the 422,664 Labour membership watching the parade ring had themselves been nobbled rather than the horses.

Yes indeedy, how did a humble, left-of-left chimney sweep become, overnight, a surgeon fully qualified to give not just the Labour Party but the nation itself the mother of all enemas?

Well, over the holiday period I happened to catch a bit of Mary Poppins on the telly, in particular at the end of the film where George Banks the banker realizes that his family is more important than his job. He then mends his son’s kite and takes his family on a kite-flying outing. And they all sing Let’s Go Fly A Kite ... ♥♫♥♫♥♫♥

I have a sneaky suspicion that 251, 417 Labour members realized that family is more important than anything and decided to go fly a kite on the common.

And lo and behold, the Labour Party then gets to fly its own kite in the Commons.

Which rather neatly brings me to...


 Most irresistible gift of 2015 
(From the London Evening Standard diary)

The Jeremy Corbyn colouring book, drawn by James Nunn, features the Labour leader, among other things, parting the Red Sea and as a collection of Russian dolls...

One of the drawings, however, catches the attention a bit more than the others. It’s a reinterpretation of Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel ceiling fresco, with Jezza Corbyn as Adam and Karl Marx as God.

“Jeremy’s in the nude,” Ben Yarde-Buller [the publisher] adds. “They [Corbyn aides who showed interest in obtaining copies to give to supporters] couldn’t tell if that would make it more or less appealing as a Christmas present.”


 Most quotable quote of 2015
  (But uttered in 1977)

“You should never say bad things about the dead, only good. Joan Crawford is dead. Good!Bette Davis (1908-1989) offers up her thoughts to reporters immediately after the death of Joan Crawford (1905-1977) ― as quoted in But Enough About Me, a memoir by Burt Reynolds, 79.

This, also from Burt Reynolds: “At the party everyone was talking about Joan Crawford, who had died that afternoon. When Bette arrived she made a beeline for me. ‘Well, the c*** died today!’ she said.”


 Most likely political obituary quote of 2016 

“You should never say bad things about the dead, only good. Jeremy Corbyn is dead in the water. Good!Some politico or other. Probably.

 

New Year’s Day 2016

IT SHOULD have been a bottle of champagne right here, right now, to toast in the new year, however...

The bluebell polka

Yesterday was all about spring flowers making their flamboyant appearance, surprisingly before the end of December. But as I mentioned, snowdrops have been reluctant to show themselves during this warm but wet winter.

Curiously, even though a few snowdrops have now appeared in their usual wild places, they are still reluctant to put on a show.

However, this morning along my sunrise walk I was passing my favourite bluebell wood and out of the corner of my eye noticed that a beech tree, or at least a really significant top branch, had been brought to earth by the recent storms. I decided to investigate.

What I noted though were little green bluebell shoots all over the woodland floor. Unbelievably they were showing themselves on the first day of the year ― and here they are...

Shooting the breeze

01/01/2016: First bluebell shoots of ‘spring’ already spotted in the Towy Valley

Normally, from the moment the shoots first appear, to the time when the woodland floor morphs into a lush carpet of green prior to the first bluebell making its grand entrance, takes anywhere between five to eight weeks. But it depends what happens to the weather in between.

Last year, following a similarly mild early-winter, the first shoots were spotted on January 19 ― but then we had a cold snap, which remained through February and the beginning of March, and the bluebell shoots came to a full stop ... before springing into life again in early March...

The first bluebell duly appeared on March 27, which is typically average.

Over the past 17 years I’ve kept a record of the appearance of the first welcome bluebell of the season.

The earliest it arrived was in 2008, an unusually mild and wet winter throughout, just like this one thus far, and the first bluebell made its grand entrance on February 28. Now that is early.

If this extraordinary mild winter continues then the first bluebell of 2016 should give 2008 a run for its money.
 

Smile of the day 2015: Dec

                                                                                                                                                                          Home


Previously on Look You...
Smile of the day 2015: Dec
Smile of the day 2015: Nov
Smile of the day 2015: Oct
Smile of the day 2015: Sep
Smile of the day 2015: Aug
Smile of the day 2015: Jul
Smile of the day 2015: Jun
Smile of the day 2015: May
Smile of the day 2015: Apr
Smile of the day 2015: Mar
Smile of the day 2015: Feb
Smile of the day 2015: Jan
Smile of the day 2014: Dec
Smile of the day 2014: Nov
Smile of the day 2014: Oct
Smile of the day 2014: Sep
Smile of the day 2014: Aug
Smile of the day 2014: Jul
Smile of the day 2014: Jun
Smile of the day 2014: May

Smile of the day 2014: Apr
Smile of the day 2014: Mar
Smile of the day 2014: Feb
Smile of the day 2014: Jan
Smile of the day 2013: Dec
Smile of the day 2013: Nov
Smile of the day 2013: Oct
Smile of the day 2013: Sep
Smile of the day 2013: Aug
Smile of the day 2013: Jul
Smile of the day 2013: Jun
Smile of the day 2013: May
Smile of the day 2013: Apr
Smile of the day 2013: Mar
Smile of the day 2013: Feb

Smile of the day 2013: Jan
Smile of the day 2012d (Oct-Dec)

Previous 2012 smiles: Smile of the day 2012 (Jan-Mar) .. Smile of the day 2012 (Apr-Jun) .. Smile of the day 2012c (Jul-Sep) .. Smile of the day 2012d (Oct-Dec)
Previous 2011 smiles:  Smile of the Day 2011 (Jan-Jun) .. Smile of the Day 2011 (Jul-Sep) .. Smile of the day 2011 (Oct-Dec)
                   Home

 Previously: Smile of the Day 2010
Home   2010 (Jan to Jun)   2009   2008   March to May '07   June to Aug '07   Sep to Dec '07


Reception

You are here, way out west,
at Llandeilo

aka Llandampness
aka Dodgy City

***************************************



***************************************

Previously on LOOK YOU......


Smile of the day 2015: Dec
Smile of the day 2015: Nov
Smile of the day 2015: Oct
Smile of the day 2015: Sep
Smile of the day 2015: Aug
Smile of the day 2015: Jul
Smile of the day 2015: Jun
Smile of the day 2015: May
Smile of the day 2015: Apr
Smile of the day 2015: Mar
Smile of the day 2015: Feb
Smile of the day 2015: Jan
Smile of the day 2014: Dec
Smile of the day 2014: Nov
Smile of the day 2014: Oct
Smile of the day 2014: Sep
Smile of the day 2014: Aug
Smile of the day 2014: Jul
Smile of the day 2014: Jun
Smile of the day 2014: May
Smile of the day 2014: Apr
Smile of the day 2014: Mar
Smile of the day 2014: Feb
Smile of the day 2014: Jan
Smile of the day 2013: Dec
Smile of the day 2013: Nov
Smile of the day 2013: Oct
Smile of the day 2013: Sep
Smile of the day 2013: Aug
Smile of the day 2013: Jul
Smile of the day 2013: Jun
Smile of the day 2013: May

Smile of the day 2013: Apr
Smile of the day 2013: Mar
Smile of the day 2013: Feb

Smile of the day 2013: Jan
Smile of the day 2012d (Oct-Dec)
Smile of the day 2012c (Jul-Sep)
Smile of the day 2012 (Apr-Jun)
Smile of the day 2012 (Jan-Mar)

Smile of the day 2011 (Oct-Dec)
Smile of the Day 2011 (Jul-Sep)
Smile of the Day 2011 (Jan-Jun)

Smile of the Day 2010
2010 (Jan to Jun)
2009

2008
Sep to Dec '07

June to Aug '07
March to May '07

As it was in the beginning:
ST DAVID'S DAY, 2007

***************************************
Postcards from my Square Mile @
smile
Updated: 11/08/2013

Here's lookin' at you @
400 Smiles A Day
Updated: 08/06/2013


What A Gas @
400 Smiles A Day
Updated: 17/05/2009

**********************
Contact Me

**********************
 Home
***************************************