Wise men say

Some will remember this charming scene, which happened in a committee meeting.  It does not matter which committtee.  All committees, I sense, are largely the same, in their sweet inefficiency.  Playgrounds for the elderly, often - men and women who can't let go, yet who don't know what they are holding onto.

I was sitting there munching biscuits when the first older person appeared. 

Hello, he said.

Hello, I replied.

A companiable silence fell, as we awaited others. 

Shall I put my hearing aid in?, he suddenly asked.

I stared at him in bemusement. 

I don't usually wear it when I referee at hockey, he said pensively.  His brow furrowed, and his face tightened.

Why should I, he asked, with passion.  Why should I wear it, so I can hear them call me blind?

Love, M&T x   

A cheeky China crisis

I don't know what made me think of this today but here's an 'orrible story about relative wealth.  A few years ago, a friend's friend (urban myth alert - but we do trust the friend) was travelling in a remote part of China where the local villagers were poor.  He was suffering, as one can do on travels, with a bit of a dicky stomach.

He found himself in need of the facilities and they took him to a toilet.  It consisted of four waist high walls surrounding a succession of holes in the ground (these I have seen and used myself.  It's not a treat.)  He was desperate to go - so go he did.  Then - no toilet paper.  And - how do we put this - he really needed toilet paper.  None anywhere.  In desperation he scrabbled around in his pockets to finally alight on some currency.  The notes had a value equivalent to around 10 English pence each.  He thought about it briefly - but needs must.  He set about cleaning himself.

A hair on his neck must have prickled.  He suddenly turned around.  There, on the hillside next to the toilet, what looked like the entire village had gathered.  They had in fact not seen a Caucasian before, and their curiosity had got the better of them.  They had watched him.  They had watched him throughout.  They had watched him wiping his bum -several times - with the equivalent of a day's salary.

He left on the next bus. 

Love,

M&T xxx        

Stupid spellcheck

On one of my occasional trawls through the blogosphere, I came across a guy ranting that spellcheck didn't have the faintest idea what he was going on about. Neither did I at first. Just what was a "conasewer"? But then he explained it. A serious expert.
First time I felt empathy for spellcheck.
Love
M & T x

Sex symbol to the over 70s

I'm not complaining.  I'm not.  It is better to be a sex symbol to the over 70s than not to anyone at all.  (I think). 

It is good for people to still feel Spring rushing to their loins in the autumn of their years.  Why not. 

But still.  How did Anna Nicole Smith do it?

We ask the questions, so you don't have to.

Love,

M&T xxx

Long live live music

This week has been a long one.  But there have been some highlights.  Managed to go to a gig in a local pub on Wednesday.  It was absolutely excellent.  Talented people playing good - even brilliant - songs.  There was a crowd but people weren't packed in like sardines.  London offers so much of this kind of stuff.  Maybe we do take it too much for granted.

Live music is outstanding.  Hearing people sing their songs, stop, start, crack a joke, explain something, set a song in context - you can't beat it.  Being able to tell them that they are good face to face.  Not that they need us to tell them that.

I don't like big arena venues.  On Wednesday it felt as perfect a live music session as I've been to in a while.  We need to make sure there is money around to allow good people to do this.

Love,

M&T xxx                        

Lost in translation

The magic of language.  Mrs W described to us yesterday a marvellous translation on the side of wine boxes from the splendid Loire valley in France.  The boxes proudly proclaimed that the wine came from "le jardin des letters francaises".  Which of course was painstakingly translated on the opposite side of the box as wine coming from "the garden of French letters".

Oooh, I say.  Make mine a large one.

Love, M&T xxx  

Food, food, food

We've been thinking a bit about food in recent weeks.  There's been a spate of stuff in the papers about actresses and models who indulge in apparent displays of conspicuous eating when interviewed.  (You know the sort of thing: "Naomi Campbell wolfed down a large piece of chocolate cake".  "Nicole Kidman devoured the chips and then licked the butter plate clean."  "Is that all?" wondered David Tennant, holding up the half buffalo carcass.)

Fact: you can eat a great deal and stay slim if you don't eat a helluva lot the whole time.  A friend - a gorgeous slim girl called Jenny who is now a gorgeous old crone called Jenny (sorry, Jenny.  I meant a gorgeous middle aged crone) used to happily scoff chocolate eclairs by the packet-full.  But then she did not eat anything else all day.  Those of us who were plumper observed without too much difficulties that whilst we may only have had the one eclair, we also had breakfast, elevenses, lunch, early tea, late tea, high tea, dinner and supper too.

Eat a bit of everything all the time.  Especially that really thin pretty girl I saw on the bus.  You need to eat a little more and you would be even lovelier.  There is a balance to be struck and whatever anyone says, it's better to have a bottom.

Love to all the bottom feeders,

M&T xxx