Saturday, 22 September 2018

BREXIT: Kiss of Death for Chequers. Unscrupulous EU Trap Sprung in Salzburg.

I was never the biggest fan of the British PM but now I am. The EU's kiss-kiss bosses have sown the seeds of my discontent. I am seething. I see they have nothing to learn from Judas Iscariot, nor from the money-changers in the temple. Let them build their EU Reich, I care not anymore, for I know it is destined to the same fate as all previous efforts to control and manipulate the European peoples. The fat controllers and their dwarves have learned nothing from history. Their avarice and ambition knows no bounds. There is no means to which they will not stoop. They know nothing of honour and fair dealing. Under the guise of a refugee crisis and a terrorist crisis and any other crisis they think they can use they will now create their much vaunted European Army. I wonder who will be in charge of it. And I wonder who will dictate policy and who will give the orders. I think I know what the final outcome will be. Some of us have been there before. Others have the memories of parents and grandparents to draw on. Macron, Merkel and Co. have their own plans, agendas and their own theories. They do not include Britain, and probably the majority of the smaller EU countries who haven't yet woken up.  So be it.

Friday, 21 September 2018

The Old Driving Whirlwind

The poem first saw the light of day  on my Poet-in-Residence blog in 2009 under the title 'A poetry game you can play at home' where it still stands together with some words about its creation.

Reading Rachel's blog just now I recalled it, or something like it.  Thank you Rachel!

The Old Driving Whirlwind 

Two glasses of vin du pays
Settle the dust in my mind.
Hope is the colour of dirty brown paper.
A dark cultivated woman
Something of miraculous desirability
Was my desire
Mounting all the time steadily
Coming in at night in the wet
Punctured in a mountain village
In the bitter windy rain
In the old driving whirlwind . . .

Saturday, 8 September 2018

The 48th best 'quality of life' city in the world

Choose from this list:

A) Vienna

B) London

C) Istanbul

Answer below:

And in 48th place it's


Such a dismal performance. And going down fast. Knife crime. Murders. Terror. What can one say?

"Turn again Whittington,  Lord Mayor of London!"  

Monday, 3 September 2018

Dining Out

Two days and nights of thundery showers and warm humid weather and the food finally appeared on the old and blackened tree stump which served as a table. A gastronomic delight, a sumptuous mushroom repast and sufficient of it to please the hungriest epicurean, the most bloated gourmet, the greediest gastropod. They grazed and munched without restraint until they finally fell into the slimy swollen stillness, the sleep of satiated slugs.  

Sunday, 2 September 2018

Brexit and the 1% minority

There are presently 24 official languages in the European Union. One of them is English. 

After Brexit in 2019 the number of people in the EU with English as their first language will be 1% of the total EU population according to an article in one of the Austrian weekend papers.

Many of the EU's controllers can barely speak a passable version of the Rolls Royce of languages.

The EU controller-in-chief when J-C Juncker's term ends is slated to be a German. I hope he has a better command of English than his predecessor.

I for one shall wear my 1% English minority badge with justifiable pride.

ps - Cymraeg, that is to say Welsh, was never an official EU language. It was always categorized as a semi-official EU language. I shall wear my no longer semi-official red dragon emblem on my heart with unbounded pride as I always have done.

Saturday, 1 September 2018


There are two kinds of wine: good wine and bad wine. 

Good wine is grown organically - in good earth and is free of chemicals. If wine tastes bitter it is because it contains chemicals. 

The wasps in the first picture are in the bottle, the sugar water trap. The grapes are safe. 

Bad wine is often sprayed with dangerous chemicals in order to kill insects. This will destroy the earth, the good insects and the wine-stock. And eventually the wine drinker too!

Note the healthy  vegetation at the organic farm and compare it with the vegetation at the farm where chemicals are used. I believe I don't need to say which pictures relate to which method of farming.

My organic wine grower is 79 years of age, works every day, and is a picture of vibrant health. He never visits the doctor.  He drinks a bottle of his own wine daily; half during the day and the remainder in the evening. He has been producing wine organically for 30 years. In the beginning his neighbours all laughed at him. Well, they're not laughing now!

Good health! Cheers! Prosit! Salute!