Welp, I’ve done it
I’ve done it. I’ve taken an oath to the King. I’m sure at least a few of my ancestors are rolling their eyeballs in hell. Here’s what I had to say:
I, Stoaty Weasel, swear by Almighty God that, on becoming a British citizen, I will be faithful and bear true allegiance to His Majesty King Charles III, his Heirs and Successors, according to law.
I will give my loyalty to the United Kingdom and respect its rights and freedoms. I will uphold its democratic values. I will observe its laws faithfully and fulfil my duties and obligations as a British citizen.
I had the option to take the oath in Welsh. Are you ready? Back up:
Yr wyf i, Stoaty Weasel, yn tyngu i Dduw Hollalluog y byddaf i, ar ôl dod yn ddinesydd Prydeinig, yn ffyddlon ac yn wir deyrngar i’w Fawrhydi y Brenin Charles y Trydydd, ei Etifeddion a’i Olynwyr, yn unol â’r gyfraith.
Rhoddaf fy nheyrngarwch i’r Deyrnas Unedig a pharchaf ei hawliau a’i rhyddidau. Arddelaf ei gwerthoedd democrataidd. Glynaf yn ffyddlon wrth ei chyfreithiau a chyflawnaf fy nyletswyddau a’m rhwymedigaethau fel dinesydd Prydeinig.
How is this even a language?
So that’s it. My last bit of British legalese. I’ve already registered to vote and started my passport application.
The process was: biometrics, Fiancee Visa, Further Leave to Remain, Life in the UK Test, Indefinite Leave to Remain, Naturalisation application (with added biometrics!). My prospects as a cat burglar are doomed. I’m sure I’m missing a couple of hoops in there.
If you would like a look down memory lane, the keyword is weaselimportlicense. The very first post is How to get a Weasel Import License, Part the First – October 3, 2008. What a long, strange trip it’s been.
p.s. I love the way both the lion and the unicorn are sticking their tongues out. The lion is doing a full Gene Simmons.
Oh, and Norman Lear has copped it. Congratz to Army Brat and new Dead Pool Friday. These things are getting shorter and shorter.
December 6, 2023 — 7:37 pm
Comments: 15
Cursed. CURSED!
This painting was recently sold for £20 at a junk shop near me. Then it was brought back. Then it was sold again. Then brought back. Then sold for £25.
Having acquired a reputation as accursed, it sold on Ebay to an attraction in London for £1,600. Yes, it’s a Hallowe’en story – I missed it at the time.
The article describes all the ill luck that supposedly has followed it, including to people at its final home.
Personally, I think it’s simply unnerving because her left eye is about twice the size of her right eye. It’s otherwise reasonably well painted, which somehow makes it worse.
People will only accept so much facial asymmetry.
RFK jr’s face gives me the willies. It’s like his left eye is trying to slide off his face, just like this guy (name that film!).
November 21, 2023 — 8:06 pm
Comments: 4
Holy shit, it’s for real
When Uncle B sent me this, I thought it was a piss-take. That’s clearly Lympne Castle in Kent (pronounced “Lim”).
But no, it was up for sale in 2021 for £11 million. If’n you ask me, that’s not a bad price for a 18,862 square foot Medieval castle with 130 acres overlooking France, for cry-yi. It would take a bit of hoovering, though.
That’s the farthest extent of my travels up the coast (I’ve never been to Dover). We briefly considered it as a wedding venue until we learned it is very, very high on a cliff. Don’t do heights.
The new owners will be using it as – what else? – a wedding venue.
October 16, 2023 — 7:13 pm
Comments: 4
We smell.
Those little black triangles are places where the water supply is low to non-existent. We aren’t even that near one and our water is out. Has been, off and on, since last Friday.
My first idea for an illustration was cartoon stink lines. Nobody’s having a whole lot of hygiene. Thanks to our storage tank, I can at least wash my hair in rat water.
It feeds the toilet, too, so we’ve been able to flush as normal. Phew. It looks like times when we have a little water, it trickle-fills that tank.
What happened, you ask? Earthquake? Bombing campaign?
I can’t speak to all those other black triangles, but rumor has it in our area there was some planned maintenance project, during which some bit of engineering that hasn’t seen sunshine since Victoria went pop.
No idea when we’ll be clean again.
September 28, 2023 — 7:10 pm
Comments: 8
Stupid autocorrect!
Behold, the Vinegar Bible! Spotted on our adventures this weekend. It is so-called because of a typo in the header of the 20th chapter of Luke, which is titled “the parable of the vinegar” instead of “vineyard”.
It was published in 1717 by John Baskett, who set out to make the most showy and beautiful bible ever printed in English. Most bibliophiles think he succeeded.
It’s also absolutely stuffed with typos. It was called “A Baskett-full of printers’ errors” in its day. This article (and this one) claims it was the origin of the expression “basket case” – but it wasn’t (that first appeared in print shortly after WWI to describe mythical soldiers who had lost all four limbs and were carried around in baskets).
I’d like to know how many were printed and how many have survived, but I haven’t had much luck. This article claims there were four still around, but I’m sure that’s untrue. I’ve run across seven extant copies just Googling tonight.
Including one you can buy for $15,000.
Baskett was unpopular. He tried to keep a monopoly on bible printing in England and spent a lot of his money defending his claims in court. Despite that, he seems to have done alright for himself.
I can understand why this church leaves it open to the famous typo, but I wish they’d left it on one of the pages of sumptuous engravings I read so much about.
Your moment of synchronicity: the printer of the very first King James Bible was Robert Barker. (Get it? Eh? Bob Barker?).
August 29, 2023 — 7:38 pm
Comments: 3
He was a very little giant
It was a weekend of flower festivals. There were four at least within our usual travel range. We went to two.
One was at Brede, where I got to visit my old friend the Brede Giant. He was a real man, but not a real giant. If he was ever in this tomb, I make him 5’6″ tops. They did call him the Giant of Brede within his lifetime, though, so who knows why.
I wrote more about his legend here (13 years ago? Have I really been cruising the flower festivals that long?).
Well, good old Bob Barker has kicked the bucket. Barker was 1/8 Sioux and grew up on an Indian reservation. Congratulations to RushBabe (you better be right about that, Uncle Al – I haven’t double checked). You know the drill!
August 28, 2023 — 7:08 pm
Comments: 2
Hops!
We crossed the border into Kent earlier this week, the first county to grow hops in Tudor times and still the main producer of hops in Britain. We rounded the corner and I snapped this pic through the windshield.
I don’t know how they do it now, but the hop bines (those tall strings of hops) were originally hung up to the overhead wires by men on great tall stilts.
Then, at harvest time, whole families of Londoners would come down by train to pick them. They worked long hours for slave wages, even the littlest had jobs, and lived in these godawful leaky shacks on the farm. They regarded it as a holiday in the country, with pay.
A local person in my friend group remembers the hop picking.
All around Kent, Sussex and Surrey, you still find oast houses (also called hop kilns) where the hops were dried. Green hops were spread on perforated floors in those round towers and fires were built beneath. The conical hat, called a cowl, had a little sail stuck on the side to make it turn in the wind.
Nearly all the oasts have been converted to housing now, and very posh and desirable houses they are, too.
Oh, I know much, much more about hop picking. I could bore you for hours. It’s one of the topics we have extensively documented at work.
August 23, 2023 — 8:06 pm
Comments: 7
Speechless
At 2 am on the morning of the 4th of July, Sussex police were called to a building site in the town of Barnham where a crane had been stolen. Presumably, the reporter watched it drive off.
A few yards up the road, Police heading to the scene found 43 year old Alfie Smith had used the crane to punch a hole in a Co-Op Market in hopes of stealing the ATM.
Which is kind of like the old saying about the dog who chases cars – what would he have done if he had managed it? Driven off at, like, 20 miles an hour in the hot crane? Used the crane to smash the ATM on the pavement in the hopes it would rain £20 notes?
Put it in the van and vamoose in hopes of opening it later? Oh, yes – there was a van. It got away. And a 37-year-old unnamed accomplice who was also arrested at the scene.
I’m going to go out on a limb and speculate that alcohol was involved.
Remember Dead Pool tomorrow. Bring out your dead!
July 6, 2023 — 6:26 pm
Comments: 6
The most English thing ever
Growing flowers in wellington boots. Spotted at a village fete over the weekend.
Not much else of interest. Oh, except I met the sister of the cow I met last year at this show. My friend from last year is almost all growed up and ready to be a milk cow.
p.s. my village won the boules contest last night. w00t!
p.p.s. going to go sit in the garden and wait for Chicken Bed Time.
June 27, 2023 — 8:24 pm
Comments: 5
This was unexpected
I forgot about this – I ran across this pic flicking through my photos just now. I took it on my birthday this year, when we dined at my favorite fish and chips restaurant.
You might wonder what an altarpiece is doing in a fish and chips shop. I did, so I asked. The owner saw a crew demolishing a church and spotted it. He asked for it, they gave it to him. Cornwall, I think it was.
I believe it’s granite, late 19th C. It props up a bookshelf now; probably some kind of sacrilege.
Speaking of sacrilege – I’m about to make a quiche Lorraine from scratch for the first time. Thoughts and prayers, please.
June 22, 2023 — 6:27 pm
Comments: 9