Mine’s A Large One

This time of year life seems so much better through the bottom of a glass, miserable weather, everyone is fed-up, hate their jobs, want a holiday……need I go on.

But fear not, it could of course be worse, instead of merrily (or not so merrily as the case may be) supping at your third Pinot Grigio of the evening and debating whether John Madejski dies his hair or the benefits of over the counter Viagra, you could be shaving all your hair off and going into re-hab!

Having to make the decision whether to have a glass of wine or a gin and tonic out of my pathetic array of coinage and pennies before pay day arrives, does at times seem the better option. You’re not going to hear what’s the record number of straws a man can fit in his mouth, or whether piles is going to be a problem for sister Annie when she has her baby and Oooo do you think it’s a girl or a boy debate on how round, fat, thin her ‘lump’ is in the noveau swish uber cool bar’s of LA!

No where else than your local bar or pub will you hear conversations worrying over Mozart the Iguana in Antwerp and whether he will have to have his penis amputated from being continually aroused for a week after mating with his beau, but don’t let your eyes water too much as lucky old iguana’s have two….now there’s another conversation to be had, but definitely during a head swimming grape & grain session in the early hours of the morning!

Don’t get me wrong there are plenty of serious conversations to be had in every watering hole; your local has to be the best place for straw polls on any subject. The old boy sitting in the corner donning a flat cap rather than a cravat will astound you with mind boggling facts and figures on UK and worldwide carbon emissions….he has a few emissions himself, but I don’t think he’s aware!

No, perhaps our mundane lives are not so bad after-all and at least I can take comfort by knowing that I have succeeded further with my New Year’s Resolutions than any of my drinking chums.

Mr Sports Car who has a monthly tab the size of the third world debt, failed miserably with his resolution of not drinking all January, when we partook in a wee vodka snifter or two on January 3rd!

The suave and sophisticated cigar smoker is of course back on the cigars, but hats off he lasted well into February! Pointless asking any of the local media types what happened to theirs, purely pie in the sky hideously unachievable ones if at all they can remember making any but as a good friend of mine would say, ‘we’ve all done it’!

As, for myself, mine was to not have passed away from alcohol poisoning before I am 40….ha ha…I am streaks ahead, but maybe only just!

So all in all we think we deserve a pat on the back for doing so well with our alcohol abstinence and upholding the art of political and utterly ridiculous debate to which we should all feel very proud.

Mine’s a large one!

First (hmm) Great (Trades Descriptions Act) Western (Erm!)

So Long…Farewell….

I have a friend who is off to Gibraltar for two years today. On Wednesday he was going to jump on a train from North Camp (Farborough) to Reading so we could have a few beers and say cheerio. Train was due to leave North Camp at 21.29. By 21.45 I was at Reading station waiting…text from him saying it was delayed until 21.54…that was the time of the next scheduled service. Ok, he can still get that….what do I do, well a) I needed to powder my nose (sorry, if you need to pee you can’t use the toilets at that time in Reading station, they are all shuttered up) and then b) still needing nose powdering, nearest powdery nose place was the Three Guineas, could be worse.

Nose powdered, glass of wine bought…TEXT “f**king saying it’s 22.12 now!” Hmm, I could sense a little tenseness from this text!!

I called National Rail Enquiries 08457 48 49 50, after the numerous options I get through:

Me: “Hello, can you please tell me when the 21.29 from North Camp will be arriving”

NRE: “Where is North Camp?”

Me: “Farnborough”

NRE: “The next train from Farnborough is….”

Me: (I interrupt) There are two stations in Farnborough, I want North Camp

NRE: “Oh”

Me: “My friend was at the station to catch the 21.29, he is still there, what is the reason for the delay?”

NRE: ” The train is delayed by 59 mins”

Me: “Can you tell me why this is?”

NRE: “No”

Me: “Surely you must know why a train has been delayed by an hour and what happened to the intermittent train?”

NRE: “No I can’t, there is no information”

Me: ” I have to say I am surprised at the lack of information and the poor service and the fact that my friend has been waiting there for over 45 mins and you have no explanation”

SILENCE

Me: ” Hello, are you there?…..Can you speak to me?”

NRE: ” Yes I am here I was nodding in agreement with you”

Me: ” I am talking to you on the phone I cannot see you… nodding doesn’t help”

SILENCE (I presumed more nodding was taking place)

NRE: ” Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Me: “Erm, I think not”

TEXT “Fed up, pissed off, cold, wet, going home”

Thank you First Great Western for our farewell drink.

Chink Chink cheers to you!

I wonder if they’ll pay for my flight to Gibraltar?

SILENCE

Is that them nodding???

Light Up With Pride

Reading Needs Pride in it’s Lion

A few weeks ago I had a friend coming to Reading and we decided to stay at The Forbury Hotel…but a review of that is not the content of this post, it is of the lack of prominence of the Maiwand Lion that stands so proudly in Forbury Gardens.

The gardens now look fabulous after all the lottery funded work carried out, but I have one gripe and it’s a big one.

The Maiwand Lion is synonymous with Reading; it is the masthead of many businesses in the town including the Reading Post as well as Reading Football Club having a lion as its mascot.

Now, the friend I had visiting was interested in seeing the monument having done two tours of Afghanistan recently and for those of you not in the know the Maiwand Lion was erected to honour the memory of the servicemen whose lives were lost from the 66th Berkshire Regiment, during the Battle of Maiwand . They were praised for their heroism which was a truly moving and powerful example of the loyalty, bravery and camaraderie of the British armed forces then and exemplified now.

Of the battle an Afghani officer described their end.

“These men charged from the shelter of a garden and died with their faces to the enemy, fighting to the death. So fierce was their charge, and so brave their actions, no Afghan dared to approach to cut them down. So, standing in the open, back to back, firing steadily, every shot counting, surrounded by thousands, these British soldiers died. It was not until the last man was shot down that the Afghans dared to advance on them. The behaviour of those last eleven was the wonder of all who saw it”.

The inscription on the plinth reads as follows:

This monument records the names and commemorates the valour and devotion of XI (11) officers and CCCXVIII (318) non-commissioned officers and men of the LXVI (66th) Berkshire Regiment who gave their lives for their country at Girishk Maiwand and Kandahar and during the Afghan Campaign MDCCCLXXIX (1879) – MDCCCLXXX (1880).
“History does not afford any grander or finer instance of gallantry and devotion to Queen and country than that displayed by the LXVI Regiment at the Battle of Maiwand on the XXVII (27th) July MDCCCLXXX (1880).”
Despatch of General Primrose.

The reason for my gripe is that by the time my friend had arrived in Reading and we had enjoyed a well deserved drink, we walked up towards Forbury Gardens only to find them closed, ok, it was about 8.30pm, but still very disappointed we couldn’t walk through the gardens. The most disappointing thing is that my friend could not even see the vast monument that is the Maiwand Lion. Why, oh, why, is it not lit up?

Why was the lighting of the Maiwand Lion not part of the regeneration of the gardens through the lottery funding? I am actually quite offended that a monument as synonymous as this along with the attached historical value of the sculpture to the town has not been allowed to stand proudly and be admired day or night.

I for one would like to see this monument lit up proudly at night, there must be some money in RBC’s coffers?

Fishy goings on

I was a naughty girl last night and had fish & chips on a school night after my boy had requested them. I went into a fish & chips shop in Caversham and asked for two haddock and chips:

Chippie: “Sorry, no haddock, only cod”

Me: “Ok, two cod & chips please…is it fresh?”

Chippie: “Yes, it’s freshly cooked”

Me: “Has it been frozen?”

Chippie: “Yes”

Me: “So it’s not fresh then?”

Chippie: “No, you don’t expect us to get daily deliveries of fresh fish do you? We can’t have fresh fish delivered everyday and we couldn’t afford it”

Me: “Well, it would be nice don’t you think?”

Chippie: *shrugs shoulders”

Me: *sigh*

Now I am acutely aware that we don’t live in Reading-on-Sea, however we are blessed with having a fabulous fishmonger in Smelly Alley (Union St), Frosts the Fishmongers and as we know fishmongers are a precious commodity these days and Frosts is the only one around for about 50 miles.

Obviously, this is a bizarre idea *achem*, but why don’t the fish & chip shops in Reading, of which there are a fair few, not form a collective and buy from Frosts, negotiate a deal with them. Not only would this allow them to have a premium product but would allow them not to have a ridiculous price point should they be purchasing direct from a supplier themselves (or god forbid actually visit a fish market!). Re-investing in the local market seems to have been forgotten.

Pinched from Frosts website:

“Why “The Smelly Alley Fish Company”? We’re in a street that has had food shops in it for hundreds of years. In the 1600s it had an open sewer running down its length, so it became known as Smelly Alley. Now there is just one fishmonger, one greengrocer and one butcher, and we are in Reading, Berkshire.

Don’t fall for that old chesnut that fish is best from coastal fishmongers. They don’t have the variety of fish that we do, and what do they do when the fishing boats don’t go out or the weather is too bad for fishing? We are centrally located and can get fish from Newlyn or the Shetlands 12 hours after it has been caught!”

It would be a fishy win win, in my book!

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