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Here we go!

The Summer fete/flower festival/country fair season is upon us and this is a homity pie.

Never had it before. In fact, I haven’t had it now. I’m savin’ it for lunch.

It’s a pastry crust filled with potatoes and an onion and leek mixture. Then it’s covered in cheese and baked. This particular variable has mustard seeds in it, which I haven’t seen in any of the recipes. A nice old lady sold it to us at a country fair.

It looks like the cross between a quiche and a ‘za.

I’ve never heard anyone in the wild say ‘za, by the way. It’s a word I picked up playing an online variation of Scrabble. Very handy for dumping unwanted Zs.

And with that, the festival season begins!

May 27, 2019 — 8:56 pm
Comments: 12

Happy birthday, Sherlock

According to the National Archives, today is Sherlock Holmeseses birthday. The birthday of the character? The birthday of the creation of the character? I dunno. They don’t say. They do say

Scotland Yard used to receive many letters from individuals hoping to make contact. Allegedly a secretary was later employed to respond, explaining he was no longer detecting and had left London to enjoy a rural retirement in Sussex.

Hey, we could be fictional neighbors!

p.s. ever since I told WordPress I use a British keyboard, it changes my Z’s to S’s and puts all those gay extra U’s in stuff.

May 21, 2019 — 7:50 pm
Comments: 12

Yep, they’re still washing up

Unexploded bomb spotted at Beachy Head. It’s apparently only visible at low tide, so the bomb disposal squad is waiting for morning. You know, if you want to run out and steal it.

I wonder what damn fool took the picture.

Beachy Head is a tall chalk cliff near Eastbourne and is the UK’s favorite suicide spot. In fact, Wikipedia tells me it’s the third most popular suicide destination in the world, after the Golden Gate Bridge and the Aokigahara Woods. People have been offing themselves there since at least the 7th Century.

The one that sticks in my head is the poor bastard who drove his rascal off the cliff. Now that’s determination.

Happy Monday!

May 20, 2019 — 9:36 pm
Comments: 11

I don’t think you could hide many merry men in there

Ladies and gentlemen, Sherwood Forest.

Somebody went on a hike there today; it came across my Twitter feed. It’s a park now, naturally. It blows my mind when I see something cross my threshold and I realize, ohhhhh, THAT Sherwood Forest.

Like the time Uncle B and I were out driving a ways from home and I said, “oh, look — there’s a tea room called the House at Pooh Corner.” And he was like, “no, Weasel, I’m pretty sure that’s the actual House at Pooh Corner.” And I’m like “GET. OUT!!!!

Right. Remember. Tomorrow. 6 WBT. Dead Pool Round 121.

May 16, 2019 — 9:39 pm
Comments: 9

A little mystery

Okay, last picture from my field trip. This is from an ancient building next door to the church. It’s converted to offices now, and this giant wheel is over the receptionist’s desk.

I leave you to guess what the building was for (I’ll update the post with an answer later).

Good weekend, all!

And the answer is: abbatoir. It was a Tudor abbatoir. They would’ve hoiked cows into the air by that thing and, I guess, cut their throats over the spot where her desk is. She informed me cheerfully.

May 10, 2019 — 9:28 pm
Comments: 9

Comes the weekend…

Uncle B had an appointment in a little village the next county over today. A little village with a lovely big church (clearly a place of importance once). Built in the 12th Century and substantially enlarged in the 15th, I think it said. I might be off by a century or so.

By tradition, English churches are always open and I had this one all to myself until someone came in to clean. Perhaps I’ll post some pictures of the inside, if my phone camera didn’t let me down.

Have a good weekend, everyone — I certainly plan to, long weekend and all.

May 3, 2019 — 9:46 pm
Comments: 7




I don’t know why this is from the New York Times, but it’s an interesting dialect map of the UK.

Uncle B sent it to me and said it’s accurate, so I assume it nailed him.

I was surprised when I took it that most of them had answers I would consider correct, but my score was, “you’re not from around here, are you?”

No, I’m not. But I spent half my life in Tennessee and half my life in Rhode Island before coming here, so my dialect is…impure.

Day 1 of Weasel Birthmonth I had the first strawberries of the season.




May 1, 2019 — 8:10 pm
Comments: 12

Sweeps clean

My new broom. You may think it an odd thing to be chuffed about, but this sort of broom is hard to find here. They more commonly use push brooms, like shop brooms.

Uncle B calls this a besom. It isn’t exactly — that’s the ‘bundle of twigs’ broom like the witches ride — but he put out his back once, badly, using one of my brooms from the States, so I’ll allow him to call it whatever he likes.

I found this one at an animal feed store. I had a nice chat with the shop girls about how excellent they were for getting into corners and stuff. Horsey girls. You know the type.

It’s amazing he little differences I bump my nose against on the daily. Still a foreigner after all these years.

April 25, 2019 — 9:33 pm
Comments: 11

Glamour and celebrity

Today, we were next in line to this guy in the supermarket checkout. I have a side bet with Uncle B that you guys will know who he is. You’re just the type.

The picture is a hint. I stole it from the BBC, which is also a hint.

My, he did look weedy, I must say. He was buying a sad little cluster of cans of mushroom soup. One he was returning because he’d accidentally picked one up with chicken in it, so I suspect vegetarian. Don’t do it, kids. Just don’t.

I probably violated half a dozen EU privacy directives just now.

Uncle B nodded hello to him, but I was busy wondering if I could sneakily take a phone picture without getting caught. The answer is no.

April 9, 2019 — 8:49 pm
Comments: 18


Folks, I can’t tell you what’s going on in this country at the moment.

No, really. I can’t. I’m a guest in a place that’s suddenly morphed into a single giant, throbbing raw nerve ending and I’m trying to keep my trap shut and not attract attention to myself.

Nobody likes a mouthy immigrant.

Image pinched from here.

April 8, 2019 — 9:18 pm
Comments: 13