Sorry if you were expecting Chicks and Bunnies pole dancing in a tree, but this isn’t Playboy and I’m no Hugh Hefner 🙂 When we left Hampshire last year the Princess asked me to take a decent cutting from the Twisted Hazel. As a bloke I tend not to ask questions, just follow orders (it’s easier that way 🙂 ) So imagine my surprise (as I had forgotten all about it) when I came home to see aforementioned cutting spayed white. It was then that I also realised why she wanted a pallet foot with a 25mm hole drilled into it.

I had been informed earlier that the Princess needed to get some Chicks and Bunnies for Easter. Okayyy I have to admit the testosterone bit of my mind kinda went down the 1970’s Playboy route, but these were the fluffy type. It was explained to me that we were to…

I had hoped to return one day to take better photos.  Now I hope that I may return one day when it has been restored.

Five hundred feet below me the rocks of the Sierra Madre mountains appeared unforgiving, the guide called out, ‘It’s okay the horse knows where it’s going.’ I decided to leave my fate in the hands of a Mexican pony and sat back in the saddle. Eventually we came to a clearing by a stream and there was a picnic.  Many hours later, with buttocks safely back in the bar, I finally realised why cowboys walk the way they do .

Later that evening we found a seat in the bar and I made yet another discovery; cowboys stand at the bar in saloons. This bar had a TV I’m not a fan of TV’s in bars, it was stage right so we sat stage left.  I say sat;  I tried perching on my hip, but this made me look like male model with hemorrhoids; at least here I could see the…

The Spanish called us ‘Pesca Submarina’ – underwater fishermen. The name carried respect and we were proud of the kudos. We were treated well and so considered ourselves honoured and tried to live honourably when in their company. But after ten minutes in a raging sea, fear dispelled pride. I recalled his final words as we entered from the harbour wall. ‘Stay with me!’ The fuckity, fuck I felt earlier was nothing compared to what I felt now. I finned a metre out of the water and realised he was no where to be seen so I began to fish. Over weighted by the lead we sank quickly, solitary dark shapes gliding down through the gloom. On the sea bed you lay still, waiting for the curiosity of the fish to take over and hoping your lungs would last out the time. That was on a calm day…

How many times have you played this and it’s got a bit risqué? In all reality it’s for kids isn’t it? I’ll leave risqué to the young adults. Even so, do you remember the excitement when you finally had the chance to ask Sally-Jo how many times she’d kissed Jim-Bob and then dared her to kiss you 😀 (yes I know 1950’s American names, just thought they sounded better than Arthur and Agnes). Then of course Jim-Bob dared you to ask Sally-Joe if she would be your date and ole’ Sal blushed and looked at you with those big brown eyes and your heart fluttered. Of course there was the time when Jim dared you to challenge big Gunther to a fight and an hour later you were in the emergency room with that broken arm 😜.

Is it sad that as we get older some of us lose that daredevil…

Who really knows what is best for you, who is your best friend? Advice is great, but isn’t it a ‘cop out?’ If you take someone’s advice and it all goes wrong then it’s not your fault is it? How many times have you heard the statement, ‘If it wasn’t for you, him or her, I could have…….?’ My students often ask me how they should do something instead of trying to figure it out for themselves, even to the extent of asking what page something is on in a text book. I ask them if they have ever heard of an index? The anticipation of failing is much worse than actually failing, trust me, I’ve failed a lot 🙂 When I was fifteen I was told I couldn’t be a motor mechanic because I didn’t have my CSE’s so they stuck me in a factory, one year later I…