Ioseb Jughashvili; born Georgia, 18th December, 1878 died 5th March, 1953. remembered not with any affection by many as Joseph Stalin. Sergei Sergeyevich Prokofiev; born Ukraine, 23rd April, 1891 died 5th March, 1953 and who's death went pretty well unnoticed, now remembered with some affection by many. Prokofiev had the misfortune of dying on the … Continue reading The overlooked.
or, in the Eastend vernacular, of the great unwashed, of which I was once one; "Pin back yer lug 'oles an' lissen" On Thursday last, the first day of autumn here, up in the Southern Hemisphere, at 14.45 hours, I had the appointment with the audiologist, which I'd told you about in a previous post, … Continue reading Oyez, Oyez, Oyez, Hear ye, Hear ye, Hear ye.
I don’t know if any of those who read and follow my rants and rubbish have ever met Kate fhrewsday, she does very little these days but her pofts are well worth reading.
She has a delightful dog named Macauley, who drops hif ballast often. and recorded.af a warning.
It appears that the use of letter S is being returned to it’s previous style, of fomething
This is a gem from Kate Shrewsday; , enjoy. 😀
Of late, though fhrewsday hath not fpake, fhe hath learnt much.
Here’s what’s in her head today.
Pope. That’s who: not the Holy Father with the little purple cap and an air of infallibility, but the poet who lived and died an invalid some 270ish years ago.
Alexander Pope. The man who is the second most quoted writer in the Oxford Dictionary of Quotations, just behind Shakespeare, yet who chose to eschew glory at his death and be buried beneath a small paving slab with ‘P’ inscribed in a tiny font in a church in Twickenham.
Pope: the man who set the tongues of Thames landowners, up and down a-wagging about Greek Revival Gardens; Pope, son of Pope the linen merchant and his wife Edith; Pope the catholic in an anti-Catholic world; Pope the wordsmith, Pope the collector of curiosities. Pope the brooding, Pope the moody, Pope the infirm, Pope…
View original post 535 more words
If it's a plummy pollie, it's "Hearar, Hearar" or something like that. If it's a pollie from the East End, it's probably " 'ear, 'rear". Be that as it may, that has absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with todays little ramble. Three weeks ago, I said farewell to my local GP, Doctor Ping Nee Lee, … Continue reading “Hear Him”, “Hear Him”