Wednesday 19 March 2014

A Jolly Jaunt

Yesterday afternoon I went to see friend M, who lives in the village.   We have been friends for many years and enjoy one another's company.  

My mode of transport was 'different' to say  the least, but beggars can't be choosers - I hitched a ride on the farmer's tractor as he pulled the slurry tanker between the slurry tank and the fields.   Climbing down the steps of the tractor was a bit hairy - three metal steps and then a big gap to the ground, but I managed it.   It wasn't a smooth ride; although the tractor has a passenger seat the journey was somewhat rocky.

As always, we covered a wide range of topics during the afternoon - we never run out of things to chat about.   But we did have a laugh (well you would either laugh or cry wouldn't you) about how, as we get older we often have to search the filing cabinet which is our brain for a name from the past.

Later, talking about the death of Clarissa Dickson Wright and about other television cooks, we tried to think of the cook who used to be the Head Chef at our local Swinton Hall hotel, and who also took part in a programme (the name of which we couldn't remember!!)
to try and educate a dozen or so girls in their teens into becoming 'ladies'.  I think the prize for the one who finally won, was a sports car or some such luxury.   To no avail, we could neither of us remember.

During the evening I suddenly thought of the dilemma and called across to the farmer, to ask him.   I got half way through the first sentence and the name popped into my head - Rosemary Shrager.
Now what makes that happen?   What triggers the brain to suddenly and unexpectedly throw up the word or name you have been searching for for hours?   Is it something that only happens as one gets older - or does it happen at any age?   Answers on a postcard please (preferably one of those old, rude ones which you can't seem to get any more)

Changing the subject - today is Budget Day - why do they persist in having such a day?   I think it is a sop to try and kid the public that they are getting something special.   Surely all these changes could just as easily be made in the day-to-day running of the country.  Is there really any need for everyone to feel they have something to celebrate if there is 1p off income tax or some other such 'sop'.  I often wonder if that red box which the Chancellor holds on the doorstep of Number 11 really just carries his sandwiches (probably made of caviar and pate de foie gras)

Can anyone give me a rational argument as to why Budget Day is important?

Howling gale here today so no muck spreading - we want it on the fields, not on the hedge, the wall, the lane and (worst of all) the farm house windows!  Instead it is back to fencing which the farmer is doing to keep the bl**dy sheep in, to use his expression.   He is not a lover of sheep, especially as they are getting itchy feet to get back up on to the tops.

12 comments:

Frugal in Derbyshire said...

A ride on a muck spreading tractor.. Excellant! While ever we have these experiences we don't take ourselves too seriously (unlike some red box wealding people)and life is richer.
Sheep find every weakness don't they?
Gill

Cro Magnon said...

Shrager could almost have been one of 'Three Fat Ladies'. She's very brusque, and authoritative. She might even have kept the other two in check.

Mary said...

Love picturing you bouncing along in the tractor! That's one mode of transportation I've yet to try.

Hope the weather improves and you won't have to be washing windows Pat!

Hugs - Mary

Maureen @ Josephina Ballerina said...

Hi Pat,
This is the second time you have used the phrase, "Answers on a postcard, please." At the risk of sounding ignorant, could you please 'splain it to me?

JoAnn ( Scene Through My Eyes) said...

What and interesting ride - but if you want to go you have to take the local "bus" LOL

Heather said...

I chuckled at your efforts to remember names, etc. I have a heavy head cold at present and that seems to stop my brain working - well that's my excuse! I usually remember the forgotten thing several hours later and completely out of context with anything that's going on.
Your mode of transport was certainly different. As for Budget Day, I have never understood why some people get so worked up about it. A few prices might come down but usually they'll go up, and there is little we can do about it. Even voting for the other side won't make that much difference.

Barbara said...

I loved the mental picture of you riding to your friend's in the "buddy seat" on the tractor with the farmer.
It gave me a chuckle to think of the sheep with itchy feet trying outwit the farmer in order to get to the tops.(I assume that is where the good grass is)I can understand his irritation. There is nothing more headstrong than a sheep bent on getting to green grass!
We live in cattle country and there are not many shepherds. Most of the cattle disparagingly refer to the sheep as "range maggots".

angryparsnip said...

hahahahahaaha I love the idea of you all dressed up riding on the muck tractor. Sounds like something I would do.
I remembering last year you talking about the sheep with itchy feet who can't wait to take off for the hills.

cheers, parsnip

Rachel Phillips said...

What is in the small print that never reaches the newspapers is what is important about The Budgets.

Em Parkinson said...

Nothing wrong with riding on a tractor.....many a young boy would be very envious!

Completely agree with you about budget day - absolutely ridiculous. I find myself wrinkling my nose a lot.

Cloudia said...

Our minds contain so much acquired 'data' that it takes longer to sift through it - like a computer hard drive rich with wonderful pictures.

Yes, I prefer savoring and laughing to the tears that lurk too near as I (a young bird of 60 and 1/2) mature....Thanks for showing me the right way.....

ALOHA from Honolulu
Comfort Spiral

=^..^= <3

The Weaver of Grass said...

Thanks for the visit. You all seem to approve my mode of transport - glad none of you were here to see my descent from the cab (not a pretty sight).